On I went (wearily enough, and with the faintness growing upon
me, a sickness that would not be fought down), guiding my course
by touch rather than sight, until, finding myself at fault, I
stopped again, staring about me beneath my hand. Yet, feeling
the faintness increase with inaction, I started forward, groping
before me as I went; I had gone but a few paces, however, when I
tripped over some obstacle, and fell heavily. It wanted but this
to complete my misery, and I lay where I was, overcome by a
deadly nausea.
Now presently, as I lay thus, spent and sick, I became aware of a
soft glow, a brightness that seemingly played all around me,
wherefore, lifting my heavy head, I beheld a ray of light that
pierced the gloom, a long, gleaming vista jewelled by falling
raindrops, whose brilliance was blurred, now and then, by the
flitting shapes of wind-tossed branches. At sight of this my
strength revived, and rising, I staggered on towards this welcome
light, and thus I saw that it streamed from the window of my
cottage. Even then, it seemed, I journeyed miles before I felt
the latch beneath my fingers, and fumbling, opened the door,
stumbled in, and closed it after me.
For a space I stood dazed by the sudden light, and then, little
by little, noticed that the table and chairs had been righted,
that the fire had been mended, and that candles burned brightly
upon the mantel. All this I saw but dimly, for there was a mist
before my eyes; yet I was conscious that the girl had leapt up on
my entrance, and now stood fronting me across the table.
"You!" said she, in a low, repressed voice--"you?"
Now, as she spoke, I saw the glitter of steel in her hand.
"Keep back!" she said, in the same subdued tone, "keep back--I
warn you!" But I only leaned there against the door, even as she
had done; indeed, I doubt if I could have moved just then, had I
tried. And, as I stood thus, hanging my head, and not answering
her, she stamped her foot suddenly, and laughed a short, fierce
laugh.
"So--he has hurt you?" she cried; "you are all blood--it is
running down your face--the Country Bumpkin has hurt you! Oh, I
am glad! glad! glad!" and she laughed again. "I might have run
away," she went on mockingly, "but you see--I was prepared for
you," and she held up the knife, "prepared for you--and now--you
are pale, and hurt, and faint--yes, you are faint--the Country
Bumpkin has done his work well. I shall not need this, after
all--see!" And she flung the knife upon the table.