VIII
SHE had lost the sense of time, and did not know how late it was tillshe came out into the street and saw that all the windows were darkbetween Miss Hatchard's and the Royall house.
As she passed from under the black pall of the Norway spruces shefancied she saw two figures in the shade about the duck-pond. She drewback and watched; but nothing moved, and she had stared so long into thelamp-lit room that the darkness confused her, and she thought she musthave been mistaken.
She walked on, wondering whether Mr. Royall was still in the porch. Inher exalted mood she did not greatly care whether he was waiting for heror not: she seemed to be floating high over life, on a great cloud ofmisery beneath which every-day realities had dwindled to mere specks inspace. But the porch was empty, Mr. Royall's hat hung on its peg in thepassage, and the kitchen lamp had been left to light her to bed. Shetook it and went up.
The morning hours of the next day dragged by without incident. Charityhad imagined that, in some way or other, she would learn whether Harneyhad already left; but Verena's deafness prevented her being a source ofnews, and no one came to the house who could bring enlightenment.
Mr. Royall went out early, and did not return till Verena had set thetable for the midday meal. When he came in he went straight to thekitchen and shouted to the old woman: "Ready for dinner----" then heturned into the dining-room, where Charity was already seated. Harney'splate was in its usual place, but Mr. Royall offered no explanationof his absence, and Charity asked none. The feverish exaltation of thenight before had dropped, and she said to herself that he had gone away,indifferently, almost callously, and that now her life would lapse againinto the narrow rut out of which he had lifted it. For a moment she wasinclined to sneer at herself for not having used the arts that mighthave kept him.
She sat at table till the meal was over, lest Mr. Royall should remarkon her leaving; but when he stood up she rose also, without waiting tohelp Verena. She had her foot on the stairs when he called to her tocome back.
"I've got a headache. I'm going up to lie down."
"I want you should come in here first; I've got something to say toyou."
She was sure from his tone that in a moment she would learn what everynerve in her ached to know; but as she turned back she made a lasteffort of indifference.
Mr. Royall stood in the middle of the office, his thick eyebrowsbeetling, his lower jaw trembling a little. At first she thought he hadbeen drinking; then she saw that he was sober, but stirred by a deep andstern emotion totally unlike his usual transient angers. And suddenlyshe understood that, until then, she had never really noticed him orthought about him. Except on the occasion of his one offense he had beento her merely the person who is always there, the unquestioned centralfact of life, as inevitable but as uninteresting as North Dormer itself,or any of the other conditions fate had laid on her. Even then she hadregarded him only in relation to herself, and had never speculated asto his own feelings, beyond instinctively concluding that he would nottrouble her again in the same way. But now she began to wonder what hewas really like.
He had grasped the back of his chair with both hands, and stood lookinghard at her. At length he said: "Charity, for once let's you and me talktogether like friends."
Instantly she felt that something had happened, and that he held her inhis hand.
"Where is Mr. Harney? Why hasn't he come back? Have you sent him away?"she broke out, without knowing what she was saying.
The change in Mr. Royall frightened her. All the blood seemed to leavehis veins and against his swarthy pallor the deep lines in his facelooked black.
"Didn't he have time to answer some of those questions last night? Youwas with him long enough!" he said.
Charity stood speechless. The taunt was so unrelated to what had beenhappening in her soul that she hardly understood it. But the instinct ofself-defense awoke in her.
"Who says I was with him last night?"
"The whole place is saying it by now."
"Then it was you that put the lie into their mouths.--Oh, how I'vealways hated you!" she cried.
She had expected a retort in kind, and it startled her to hear herexclamation sounding on through silence.
"Yes, I know," Mr. Royall said slowly. "But that ain't going to help usmuch now."
"It helps me not to care a straw what lies you tell about me!"
"If they're lies, they're not my lies: my Bible oath on that, Charity. Ididn't know where you were: I wasn't out of this house last night."
She made no answer and he went on: "Is it a lie that you were seencoming out of Miss Hatchard's nigh onto midnight?"
She straightened herself with a laugh, all her reckless insolencerecovered. "I didn't look to see what time it was."
"You lost girl... you... you.... Oh, my God, why did you tell me?" hebroke out, dropping into his chair, his head bowed down like an oldman's.
Charity's self-possession had returned with the sense of her danger. "Doyou suppose I'd take the trouble to lie to YOU? Who are you, anyhow, toask me where I go to when I go out at night?"
Mr. Royall lifted his head and looked at her. His face had grown quietand almost gentle, as she remembered seeing it sometimes when she was alittle girl, before Mrs. Royall died.
"Don't let's go on like this, Charity. It can't do any good to either ofus. You were seen going into that fellow's house... you were seen comingout of it.... I've watched this thing coming, and I've tried to stop it.As God sees me, I have...."
"Ah, it WAS you, then? I knew it was you that sent him away!"
He looked at her in surprise. "Didn't he tell you so? I thought heunderstood." He spoke slowly, with difficult pauses, "I didn't nameyou to him: I'd have cut my hand off sooner. I just told him I couldn'tspare the horse any longer; and that the cooking was getting too heavyfor Verena. I guess he's the kind that's heard the same thing before.Anyhow, he took it quietly enough. He said his job here was about done,anyhow; and there didn't another word pass between us.... If he told youotherwise he told you an untruth."
Charity listened in a cold trance of anger. It was nothing to her whatthe village said... but all this fingering of her dreams!
"I've told you he didn't tell me anything. I didn't speak with him lastnight."
"You didn't speak with him?"
"No.... It's not that I care what any of you say... but you may as wellknow. Things ain't between us the way you think... and the other peoplein this place. He was kind to me; he was my friend; and all of a suddenhe stopped coming, and I knew it was you that done it--YOU!" All herunreconciled memory of the past flamed out at him. "So I went there lastnight to find out what you'd said to him: that's all."
Mr. Royall drew a heavy breath. "But, then--if he wasn't there, whatwere you doing there all that time?--Charity, for pity's sake, tell me.I've got to know, to stop their talking."
This pathetic abdication of all authority over her did not move her: shecould feel only the outrage of his interference.
"Can't you see that I don't care what anybody says? It's true I wentthere to see him; and he was in his room, and I stood outside for everso long and watched him; but I dursn't go in for fear he'd think I'dcome after him...." She felt her voice breaking, and gathered it up in alast defiance. "As long as I live I'll never forgive you!" she cried.
Mr. Royall made no answer. He sat and pondered with sunken head, hisveined hands clasped about the arms of his chair. Age seemed to havecome down on him as winter comes on the hills after a storm. At lengthhe looked up.
"Charity, you say you don't care; but you're the proudest girl I know,and the last to want people to talk against you. You know there's alwayseyes watching you: you're handsomer and smarter than the rest, andthat's enough. But till lately you've never given them a chance. Nowthey've got it, and they're going to use it. I believe what you say, butthey won't.... It was Mrs. Tom Fry seen you going in... and two or threeof them watched for you to come out again.... You've been with the fellowall day long
every day since he come here... and I'm a lawyer, and I knowhow hard slander dies." He paused, but she stood motionless, withoutgiving him any sign of acquiescence or even of attention. "He's apleasant fellow to talk to--I liked having him here myself. The youngmen up here ain't had his chances. But there's one thing as old as thehills and as plain as daylight: if he'd wanted you the right way he'dhave said so."
Charity did not speak. It seemed to her that nothing could exceed thebitterness of hearing such words from such lips.
Mr. Royall rose from his seat. "See here, Charity Royall: I had ashameful thought once, and you've made me pay for it. Isn't that scorepretty near wiped out?... There's a streak in me I ain't always masterof; but I've always acted straight to you but that once. And you'veknown I would--you've trusted me. For all your sneers and your mockeryyou've always known I loved you the way a man loves a decent woman. I'ma good many years older than you, but I'm head and shoulders above thisplace and everybody in it, and you know that too. I slipped up once, butthat's no reason for not starting again. If you'll come with me I'lldo it. If you'll marry me we'll leave here and settle in some big town,where there's men, and business, and things doing. It's not too late forme to find an opening.... I can see it by the way folks treat me when Igo down to Hepburn or Nettleton...."
Charity made no movement. Nothing in his appeal reached her heart, andshe thought only of words to wound and wither. But a growing lassituderestrained her. What did anything matter that he was saying? She saw theold life closing in on her, and hardly heeded his fanciful picture ofrenewal.
"Charity--Charity--say you'll do it," she heard him urge, all his lostyears and wasted passion in his voice.
"Oh, what's the use of all this? When I leave here it won't be withyou."
She moved toward the door as she spoke, and he stood up and placedhimself between her and the threshold. He seemed suddenly tall andstrong, as though the extremity of his humiliation had given him newvigour.
"That's all, is it? It's not much." He leaned against the door, sotowering and powerful that he seemed to fill the narrow room. "Well,then look here.... You're right: I've no claim on you--why should youlook at a broken man like me? You want the other fellow... and I don'tblame you. You picked out the best when you seen it... well, that wasalways my way." He fixed his stern eyes on her, and she had the sensethat the struggle within him was at its highest. "Do you want him tomarry you?" he asked.
They stood and looked at each other for a long moment, eye to eye, withthe terrible equality of courage that sometimes made her feel as if shehad his blood in her veins.
"Do you want him to--say? I'll have him here in an hour if you do. Iain't been in the law thirty years for nothing. He's hired Carrick Fry'steam to take him to Hepburn, but he ain't going to start for anotherhour. And I can put things to him so he won't be long deciding.... He'ssoft: I could see that. I don't say you won't be sorry afterward--but,by God, I'll give you the chance to be, if you say so."
She heard him out in silence, too remote from all he was feeling andsaying for any sally of scorn to relieve her. As she listened, thereflitted through her mind the vision of Liff Hyatt's muddy boot comingdown on the white bramble-flowers. The same thing had happened now;something transient and exquisite had flowered in her, and she had stoodby and seen it trampled to earth. While the thought passed throughher she was aware of Mr. Royall, still leaning against the door, butcrestfallen, diminished, as though her silence were the answer he mostdreaded.
"I don't want any chance you can give me: I'm glad he's going away," shesaid.
He kept his place a moment longer, his hand on the door-knob. "Charity!"he pleaded. She made no answer, and he turned the knob and went out. Sheheard him fumble with the latch of the front door, and saw him walkdown the steps. He passed out of the gate, and his figure, stooping andheavy, receded slowly up the street.
For a while she remained where he had left her. She was still tremblingwith the humiliation of his last words, which rang so loud in her earsthat it seemed as though they must echo through the village, proclaimingher a creature to lend herself to such vile suggestions. Her shameweighed on her like a physical oppression: the roof and walls seemedto be closing in on her, and she was seized by the impulse to get away,under the open sky, where there would be room to breathe. She went tothe front door, and as she did so Lucius Harney opened it.
He looked graver and less confident than usual, and for a moment or twoneither of them spoke. Then he held out his hand. "Are you going out?"he asked. "May I come in?"
Her heart was beating so violently that she was afraid to speak, andstood looking at him with tear-dilated eyes; then she became aware ofwhat her silence must betray, and said quickly: "Yes: come in."
She led the way into the dining-room, and they sat down on oppositesides of the table, the cruet-stand and japanned bread-basket betweenthem. Harney had laid his straw hat on the table, and as he sat there,in his easy-looking summer clothes, a brown tie knotted under hisflannel collar, and his smooth brown hair brushed back from hisforehead, she pictured him, as she had seen him the night before, lyingon his bed, with the tossed locks falling into his eyes, and his barethroat rising out of his unbuttoned shirt. He had never seemed so remoteas at the moment when that vision flashed through her mind.
"I'm so sorry it's good-bye: I suppose you know I'm leaving," he began,abruptly and awkwardly; she guessed that he was wondering how much sheknew of his reasons for going.
"I presume you found your work was over quicker than what you expected,"she said.
"Well, yes--that is, no: there are plenty of things I should have likedto do. But my holiday's limited; and now that Mr. Royall needs the horsefor himself it's rather difficult to find means of getting about."
"There ain't any too many teams for hire around here," she acquiesced;and there was another silence.
"These days here have been--awfully pleasant: I wanted to thank you formaking them so," he continued, his colour rising.
She could not think of any reply, and he went on: "You've beenwonderfully kind to me, and I wanted to tell you.... I wish I could thinkof you as happier, less lonely.... Things are sure to change for you byand by...."
"Things don't change at North Dormer: people just get used to them."
The answer seemed to break up the order of his prearranged consolations,and he sat looking at her uncertainly. Then he said, with his sweetsmile: "That's not true of you. It can't be."
The smile was like a knife-thrust through her heart: everything in herbegan to tremble and break loose. She felt her tears run over, and stoodup.
"Well, good-bye," she said.
She was aware of his taking her hand, and of feeling that his touch waslifeless.
"Good-bye." He turned away, and stopped on the threshold. "You'll saygood-bye for me to Verena?"
She heard the closing of the outer door and the sound of his quick treadalong the path. The latch of the gate clicked after him.
The next morning when she arose in the cold dawn and opened her shuttersshe saw a freckled boy standing on the other side of the road andlooking up at her. He was a boy from a farm three or four miles down theCreston road, and she wondered what he was doing there at that hour, andwhy he looked so hard at her window. When he saw her he crossed over andleaned against the gate unconcernedly. There was no one stirring in thehouse, and she threw a shawl over her night-gown and ran down and letherself out. By the time she reached the gate the boy was saunteringdown the road, whistling carelessly; but she saw that a letter had beenthrust between the slats and the crossbar of the gate. She took it outand hastened back to her room.
The envelope bore her name, and inside was a leaf torn from apocket-diary.
DEAR CHARITY:
I can't go away like this. I am staying for a few days at Creston River.Will you come down and meet me at Creston pool? I will wait for you tillevening.
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