Next day I awoke early and my wound very painful and troublesome; this notwithstanding, I presently got me out into the early sunshine and, to my wonder, found the fire already lighted and no sign of my companion. Hereupon I fell to shouting and hallooing, but getting no answer, sat me down mighty doleful, and seeing her stool where it stood straddled on its three legs I cursed it for its unsightliness and turned my back on it. And now crouched in the sunlight I grew mightily sorry for myself thus solitary and deserted, and the hurt in my shoulder all on fire. And in a little, my self-love gave place to a fretful unease so that I must needs shout her name again and again, listening for sound of her voice, for some rustle to tell me she was nigh, but heard only the faint booming of the surf. So I arose and (albeit I found my legs mighty unwilling) came out upon the plateau, but look how and where I might, saw only a desolation of sea and beach, whereupon, being greatly disquieted, I set out minded to seek her. By the time I reached Deliverance the sun was well up, its heat causing my wound to throb and itch intolerably, and I very fretful and peevish. But as I tramped on and no trace of her I needs must remember how I had sought her hereabouts when I had thought her dead, whereupon a great and unreasoning panic seized me, and I began to run. And then, all at once, I spied her. She was sitting upon a rock, her head bowed wearily upon her hands, and seeing how her shoulders heaved I knew she was bitterly a-weeping. Therefore I stopped, and glancing from her desolate figure round about upon her desolate surroundings, knew this grim solitude for the reason of her tears. At this thought a wave of hot anger swept over me and a rage that, like my panic, reasoned not as, clenching my fists, I strode on. Suddenly she looked up and seeing me, rose at once, and lifting the great turtle-shell limped wearily towards me with this borne before her.
"Ha," says I, viewing her tear-wet cheeks as she came, "must ye weep, madam, must ye weep?"
"May I not weep, Martin?" says she, head pitifully a-droop. "Come, let us go back, you look very pale, 'twas wrong of you to come so far! Here is our breakfast, 'tis the best I can find." And she showed me a few poor shellfish.
"Give me the turtle-shell!" says I.
"Indeed I can bear it very easily, Martin. And you so white and haggard--your wound is troubling you. Come, let me bathe it--"