Arms and the Woman - Page 79/169

"It were better than to bury you"--lightly. "I assure you he caused me

no little exertion."

Yet her voice shook, and she shuddered as she cast aside the sword.

"You have made a laughing stock of me. I am a man, and can fight my

own battles," I said, sternly. "My God!" breaking down suddenly,

"supposing you had been killed?"

"It was not possible. And the man insulted me, not you. A woman?

Very well. I can defend myself against everything but calumny. Have I

made a laughing stock of you? It is nothing to me. It would not have

altered my--"

She was very white, and she stroked her forehead.

"Well?" said I.

"It would not have altered my determination to take the sword in hand

again."

She put her hand to her throat as though something there had tightened.

"Ah, I am a woman, for I believe that I am about to faint! No!"

imperiously, as I threw out my arms to catch her. "I can reach the

door alone, without assistance."

And so we went along. I did not know what to do, nor yet what to say.

A conflict was raging in my heart between shame and love; shame, that a

woman had fought for me and won where I should have lost; love, that

strove to spring from my lips in exultation. I knew not which would

have conquered had I not espied the blood on Gretchen's white hand.

"You are wounded!" I cried.

She gazed at her hand as though she did not understand; then, with a

little sob and a little choke she extended her arms toward me and

stumbled. Was ever there a woman who could look on blood without

fainting? Gretchen had not quite fainted, but the moon had danced, she

said, and all had grown dim.

"Gretchen, why did you risk your life? In God's name, what manner of

woman are you, and where did you learn to use the sword? Had you no

thought of me?" I was somewhat incoherent.

"No thought of you?" She drew the back of her hand over her eyes. "No

thought of you? I did it because--because I did not--I could not--you

would have been killed!"

I was a man--human. I loved her. I had always loved her; I had never

loved any one else. I was a coward to do what I did, but I could not

help it. I crushed her to my breast and kissed her lips, not once, but

many times.