So she wove her fancies as she walked, until for very weariness she was

fain to remember that it was a long way--a long way. Siegmund's arm was

about her to support her; she rested herself upon it. They crossed a

stile and recognized, on the right of the path, the graveyard of the

Catholic chapel. The moon, which the days were paring smaller with

envious keen knife, shone upon the white stones in the burial-ground.

The carved Christ upon His cross hung against a silver-grey sky. Helena

looked up wearily, bowing to the tragedy. Siegmund also looked, and

bowed his head.

'Thirty years of earnest love; three years' life like a passionate

ecstasy-and it was finished. He was very great and very wonderful. I am

very insignificant, and shall go out ignobly. But we are the same; love,

the brief ecstasy, and the end. But mine is one rose, and His all the

white beauty in the world.' Siegmund felt his heart very heavy, sad, and at fault, in presence of

the Christ. Yet he derived comfort from the knowledge that life was

treating him in the same manner as it had treated the Master, though his

compared small and despicable with the Christ-tragedy. Siegmund stepped

softly into the shadow of the pine copse.

'Let me get under cover,' he thought. 'Let me hide in it; it is good,

the sudden intense darkness. I am small and futile: my small,

futile tragedy!' Helena shrank in the darkness. It was almost terrible to her, and the

silence was like a deep pit. She shrank to Siegmund. He drew her closer,

leaning over her as they walked, trying to assure her. His heart was

heavy, and heavy with a tenderness approaching grief, for his small,

brave Helena.

'Are you sure this is the right way?' he whispered to her.

'Quite, quite sure,' she whispered confidently in reply. And presently

they came out into the hazy moonlight, and began stumbling down the

steep hill. They were both very tired, both found it difficult to go

with ease or surety this sudden way down. Soon they were creeping

cautiously across the pasture and the poultry farm. Helena's heart was

beating, as she imagined what a merry noise there would be should they

wake all the fowls. She dreaded any commotion, any questioning, this

night, so she stole carefully along till they issued on the high-road

not far from home.




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