The Broad Highway

In a fever of haste I sought her along the brook, among the

bushes and trees, even along the road. And, as I sought, night

fell, and in the shadows was black despair.

I searched the Hollow from end to end, calling upon her name, but

no sound reached me, save the hoot of an owl, and the far-off,

dismal cry of a corncrake.

With some faint hope that she might have returned to the cottage,

I hastened thither, but, finding it dark and desolate, I gave way

to my despair.

O blind, self-deceiving fool! She had said that, and she was

right--as usual. She had called me an egoist--I was an egoist, a

pedant, a blind, self-deceiving fool who had wilfully destroyed

all hopes of a happiness the very thought of which had so often

set me trembling--and now--she had left me--was gone! The world

--my world, was a void--its emptiness terrified me. How should I

live without Charmian, the woman whose image was ever before my

eyes, whose soft, low voice was ever in my ears?

And I had thought so much to please her! I who had set my

thoughts to guard my tongue, lest by word or look I might offend

her! And this was the end of it!

Sitting down at the table, I leaned my head there, pressing my

forehead against the hard wood, and remained thus a great while.

At last, because it was very dark, I found and lighted a candle,

and came and stood beside her bed. Very white and trim it

looked, yet I was glad to see its smoothness rumpled where I had

laid her down, and to see the depression in the pillow that her

head had made. And, while I stood there, up to me stole a

perfume very faint, like the breath of violets in a wood at

evening time, wherefore I sank down upon my knees beside the bed.

And now the full knowledge of my madness rushed upon me in an

overwhelming flood; but with misery was a great and mighty joy,

for now I knew her worthy of all respect and honor and worship,

for her intellect, for her proud virtue, and for her spotless

purity. And thus, with joy came remorse, and with remorse--an

abiding sorrow.

And gradually my arms crept about the pillow where her head had

so often rested, wherefore I kissed it, and laid my head upon it

and sighed, and so fell into a troubled sleep.