She came in swiftly, closing the door behind her, found and
lighted a candle, and, setting it upon the table between us, put
back the hood of her cloak, and looked at me, while I stood mute
before her, abashed by the accusation of her eyes.
"Coward!" she said, and, with the word, snatched the neckerchief
from my grasp, and, casting it upon the floor, set her foot upon
it. "Coward!" said she again.
"Yes," I muttered; "yes, I was lost--in a great darkness, and
full of a horror of coming rights and days, and so--I would have
run away from it all--like a coward--"
"Oh, hateful--hateful!" she cried, and covered her face as from
some horror.
"Indeed, you cannot despise me more than I do myself," said I,
"now, or ever; I am a failure in all things, except, perhaps,
the making of horseshoes--and this world has no place for
failures--and as for horseshoes--"
"Fool," she whispered. "Oh, fool that I dreamed so wise! Oh,
coward that seemed so brave and strong! Oh, man that was so
gloriously young and unspoiled!--that it should end here--that it
should come to this." And, though she kept her face hidden, I
knew that she was weeping. "A woman's love transforms the man
till she sees him, not as he is, but as her heart would have him
be; the dross becomes pure gold, and she believes and believes
until--one day her heart breaks--"
"Charmian!--what--what do you mean?"
"Oh, are you still so blind? Must I tell you?" she cried,
lifting her head proudly. "Why did I live beside you here in the
wilderness? Why did I work for you contrive for you--and seek to
make this desolation a home for you? Often my heart cried out
its secret to you--but you never heard; often it trembled in my
voice, looked at you from my eyes--but you never guessed--Oh,
blind! blind! And you drove me from you with shameful words
--but--oh!--I came back to you. And now--I know you for but
common clay, after all, and--even yet--" She stopped, suddenly,
and once more hid her face from me in her hands.
"And--even yet, Charmian?" I whispered.
Very still she stood, with her face bowed upon her hands, but she
could not hide from me the swift rise and fall of her bosom.
"Speak--oh, Charmian, speak!"
"I am so weak--so weak!" she whispered; "I hate myself."