"Gaspare knows now," she thought. "I don't know, but Gaspare knows."

That seemed to her strange, that any one should know the truth of this

thing before she did. For what did it matter to any one but her? Maurice

was hers--was so absolutely hers that she felt as if no one else had any

concern in him. He was Gaspare's padrone. Gaspare loved him as a Sicilian

may love his padrone. Others in England, too, loved him--his mother, his

father. But what was any love compared with the love of the one woman to

whom he belonged. His mother had her husband. Gaspare--he was a boy. He

would love some girl presently; he would marry. No, she was right. The

truth about that "something in the water" only concerned her. God's

dealing with this creature of his to-night only really mattered to her.

As she waited, pressing her hands on the stones and looking always at the

point of the dark land round which the boat must come, a strange and

terrible feeling came to her, a feeling that she knew she ought to drive

out of her soul, but that she was powerless to expel.

She felt as if at this moment God were on His trial before her--before a

poor woman who loved.

"If God has taken Maurice from me," she thought, "He is cruel,

frightfully cruel, and I cannot love Him. If He has not taken Maurice

from me, He is the God who is love, the God I can, I must worship!"

Which God was he?

The vast scheme of the world narrowed; the wide horizons vanished. There

was nothing beyond the limit of her heart. She felt, as almost all

believing human beings feel in such moments, that God's attention was

entirely concentrated upon her life, that no other claimed His care,

begged for His pity, demanded His tenderness because hers was so intense.

Did God wish to lose her love? Surely not! Then He could not commit this

frightful act which she feared. He had not committed it.

A sort of relief crept through her as she thought this. Her agony of

apprehension was suddenly lessened, was almost driven out.

God wants to be loved by the beings He has created. Then He would not

deliberately, arbitrarily destroy a love already existing in the heart of

one of them--a love thankful to Him, enthusiastically grateful for

happiness bestowed by Him.

Beyond the darkness of the point there came out of the dimness of the

night that brooded above the open sea a moving darkness, and Hermione

heard the splash of oars in the calm water. She got up quickly. Now her

body was trembling again. She stared at the boat as if she would force it

to yield its secret to her eyes. But that was only for an instant. Then

her ears seemed to be seeking the truth, seeking it from the sound of the

oars in the water!




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