by Ouida
CHAPTER XX.
On a sudden impulse Flamen, going through the woodland shadows to thecity, paused and turned back; all his impulses were quick and swayed himnow hither, now thither, in many contrary ways.
He knew that the hour was come--that he must leave her and spare her, asto himself he phrased it, or teach her the love words that the daisieswhisper to women.
And why not?--anyway she would marry Jeannot.
He, half-way to the town, walked back again and paused a moment at thegate; an emotion half pitiful, half cynical, stirred in him.
Anyway he would leave her in a few days: Paris had again opened her armsto him; his old life awaited him; women who claimed him by imperious,amorous demands reproached him; and after all this day he had got theGretchen of his ideal, a great picture for the future of his fame.
As he would leave her anyway so soon, he would leave her unscathed--poorlittle field flower--he could never take it with him to blossom or witherin Paris.
His world would laugh too utterly if he made for himself a mistress outof a little Fleming in two wooden shoes. Besides--
Besides, something that was half weak and half noble moved him not tolead this child, in her trust and her ignorance, into ways that when sheawakened from her trance would seem to her shameful and full of sorrow.For he knew that Bebee was not as others are.
He turned back and knocked at the hut door and opened it.
Bebee was just beginning to undress herself; she had taken off her whitekerchief and her wooden shoes; her pretty shoulders and her little neckshone white in the moon; her feet were bare on the mud floor.
She started with a cry and threw the handkerchief again on her shoulders,but there was no fear of him; only the unconscious instinct of hergirlhood.
He thought for a moment that he would not go away until the morrow--
"Did you want me?" said Bebee softly, with happy eyes of surprise and yeta little startled, fearing some evil might have happened to him that heshould have returned thus.
"No; I do not want you, dear," he said gently; no--he did not want her,poor little soul; she wanted him, but he--there were so many of thesethings in his life, and he liked her too well to love her.
"No, dear, I did not want you," said Flamen, drawing her arms about him,and feeling her flutter like a little bird, while the moonlight came inthrough the green leaves and fell in fanciful patterns on the floor. "ButI came to say--you have had one happy day. Wholly happy, have you not,poor little Bebee?"
"Ah, yes!" she sighed rather than said the answer in her wondrousgladness; drawn there close to him, with the softness of his lips uponher. Could he have come back only to ask that?
"Well, that is something. You will remember it always, Bebee?" hemurmured in his unconscious cruelty. "I did not wish to spoil yourcloudless pleasure, dear--for you care for me a little, do you not?--so Icame back to tell you only now, that I go away for a little whileto-morrow."
"Go away!"
She trembled in his arms and turned cold as ice; a great terror anddarkness fell upon her; she had never thought that he would ever goaway. He caressed her, and played with her as a boy may with a birdbefore he wrings its neck.
"You will come back?"
He kissed her: "Surely."
"To-morrow?"
"Nay--not so soon."
"In a week?"
"Hardly."
"In a month, then?"
"Perhaps."
"Before winter, anyway?"
He looked aside from the beseeching, tearful, candid eyes, and kissed herhair and her throat, and said, "Yes, dear--beyond a doubt."
She clung to him, crying silently; he wished that women would not weep.
"Come, Bebee, listen," he said coaxingly, thinking to break thebitterness to her. "This is not wise, and it gives me pain. There is somuch for you to do. You know so little. There is so much to learn. I willleave you many books, and you must grow quite learned in my absence. TheVirgin is all very well in her way, but she cannot teach us much, poorlady. For her kingdom is called Ignorance. You must teach yourself. Ileave you that to do. The days will go by quickly if you are laboriousand patient. Do you love me, little one?"
For an answer she kissed his hand.
"You are a busy little Bebee always," he said, with his lips caressingher soft brown arms that were round his neck. "But you must be busierthan ever whilst I am gone. So you will forget. No, no, I do not meanthat:--I mean so the time will pass quickest. And I shall finish yourpicture, Bebee, and all Paris will see you, and the great ladies willenvy the little girl with her two wooden shoes. Ah! that does notplease you?--you care for none of these vanities. No. Poor little Bebee,why did God make you, or Chance breathe life into you? You are so faraway from us all. It was cruel. What harm has your poor little soul everdone that, pure as a flower, it should have been sent to the hell of thisworld?"
She clung to him, sobbing without sound. "You will come back? You willcome back?" she moaned, clasping him closer and closer.
Flamen's own eyes grew dim. But he lied to her: "I will--I promise."
It was so much easier to say so, and it would break her sorrow. Sohe thought.
For the moment again he was tempted to take her with him--but, heresisted it--he would tire, and she would cling to him forever.
There was a long silence. The bleating of the little kid in the shedwithout was the only sound; the gray lavender blew to and fro.
Her arms were close about his throat; he kissed them again, and kissedher eyes, her cheek, her mouth; then put her from him quickly and wentout.
She ran to him, and threw herself on the damp ground and held him there,and leaned her forehead on his feet. But though he looked at her with weteyes, he did not yield, and he still said,--
"I will come back soon--very soon; be quiet, dear, let me go."
Then he kissed her once more many times, and put her gently within thedoor and closed it.
A low, sharp, sudden cry reached him, went to his heart, but he did notturn; he went on through the wet, green little garden, and the curlingleaves, where he had found peace and had left desolation.