Audrey - Page 244/248

As she rose from the step Haward caught her in his arms. "It is I, my

love! Ah, heart's desire! I worship you who gleam in the moonlight, with

your crown like an aureole"-Audrey rested against him, clasping her hands upon his shoulder. "There

were nights like this," she said dreamily. "If I were a little child

again, you could lift me in your arms and carry me home, I am tired ... I

would that I needed not to go back to the glare and noise. The moon shines

so bright! I have been thinking"-He bent his head and kissed her twice. "Poor Arpasia! Poor tired child!

Soon we shall go home, Audrey,--we two, my love, we two!"

"I have been thinking, sitting here in the moonlight," she went on, her

hands clasped upon his shoulder, and her cheek resting on them. "I was so

ignorant. I never dreamed that I could wrong her ... and when I awoke it

was too late. And now I love you,--not the dream, but you. I know not what

is right or wrong; I know only that I love. I think she

understands--forgives. I love you so!" Her hands parted, and she stood

from him with her face raised to the balm of the night. "I love you so,"

she repeated, and the low cadence of her laugh broke the silver stillness

of the garden. "The moon up there, she knows it. And the stars,--not one

has fallen to-night! Smell the flowers. Wait, I will pluck you hyacinths."

They grew by the doorstep, and she broke the slender stalks and gave them

into his hand. But when he had kissed them he would give them back, would

fasten them himself in the folds of silk, that rose and fell with her

quickened breathing. He fastened them with a brooch which he took from the

Mechlin at his throat. It was the golden horseshoe, the token that he had

journeyed to the Endless Mountains.

"Now I must go," said Audrey. "They are calling for Arpasia. Follow me not

at once. Good-night, good-night! Ah, I love you so! Remember always that I

love you so!"

She was gone. In a few minutes he also reëntered the playhouse, and went

to his former place where, with none of his kind about him, he might watch

her undisturbed. As he made his way with some difficulty through the

throng, he was aware that he brushed against a man in a great peruke, who,

despite the heat of the house, was wrapped in an old roquelaure tawdrily

laced; also that the man was keeping stealthy pace with him, and that when

he at last reached his station the cloaked figure fell into place

immediately behind him.