The Broad Highway

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."