It looked cruel somehow, sagged all crooked, and out of place up here; a piece of bad manners, as if people with only one idea had dragged it in, without caring whether or no it suited what was around it.One might just as well introduce one of these rocks into that jolly dark church where he had left her the other day, as put a cross up here.
A sound of bells, and of sniffing and scuffling, roused him; a large grey goat had come up and was smelling at his hair--the leader of a flock, that were soon all round him, solemnly curious, with their queer yellow oblong-pupilled eyes, and their quaint little beards and tails.Awfully decent beasts--and friendly!
What jolly things to model! He lay still (having learnt from the fisherman, his guardian, that necessary habit in the presence of all beasts), while the leader sampled the flavour of his neck.The passage of that long rough tongue athwart his skin gave him an agreeable sensation, awakened a strange deep sense of comradeship.
He restrained his desire to stroke the creature's nose.It appeared that they now all wished to taste his neck; but some were timid, and the touch of their tongues simply a tickle, so that he was compelled to laugh, and at that peculiar sound they withdrew and gazed at him.There seemed to be no one with them; then, at a little distance, quite motionless in the shade of a rock, he spied the goatherd, a boy about his own age.How lonely he must be up here all day! Perhaps he talked to his goats.He looked as if he might.One would get to have queer thoughts up here, get to know the rocks, and clouds, and beasts, and what they all meant.The goatherd uttered a peculiar whistle, and something, Lennan could not tell exactly what, happened among the goats--a sort of "Here, Sir!" seemed to come from them.And then the goatherd moved out from the shade and went over to the edge of the plateau, and two of the goats that were feeding there thrust their noses into his hand, and rubbed themselves against his legs.The three looked beautiful standing there together on the edge against the sky....
That night, after dinner, the dining-room was cleared for dancing, so that the guests might feel freedom and gaiety in the air.And, indeed, presently, a couple began sawing up and down over the polished boards, in the apologetic manner peculiar to hotel guests.
Then three pairs of Italians suddenly launched themselves into space--twirling and twirling, and glaring into each other's eyes;and some Americans, stimulated by their precept, began airily backing and filling.Two of the 'English Grundys' with carefully amused faces next moved out.To Lennan it seemed that they all danced very well, better than he could.Did he dare ask HER? Then he saw the young violinist go up, saw her rise and take his arm and vanish into the dancing-room; and leaning his forehead against a window-pane, with a sick, beaten feeling, he stayed, looking out into the moonlight, seeing nothing.He heard his name spoken; his tutor was standing beside him.
"You and I, Lennan, must console each other.Dancing's for the young, eh?"Fortunately it was the boy's instinct and his training not to show his feelings; to be pleasant, though suffering.
"Yes, sir.Jolly moonlight, isn't it, out there?""Ah! very jolly; yes.When I was your age I twirled the light fantastic with the best.But gradually, Lennan, one came to see it could not be done without a partner--there was the rub! Tell me--do you regard women as responsible beings? I should like to have your opinion on that."It was, of course, ironical--yet there was something in those words--something!
"I think it's you, sir, who ought to give me yours.""My dear Lennan--my experience is a mere nothing!"That was meant for unkindness to her! He would not answer.If only Stormer would go away! The music had stopped.They would be sitting out somewhere, talking! He made an effort, and said:
"I was up the hill at the back this morning, where the cross is.
There were some jolly goats."
And suddenly he saw her coming.She was alone--flushed, smiling;it struck him that her frock was the same colour as the moonlight.
"Harold, will you dance?"
He would say 'Yes,' and she would be gone again! But his tutor only made her a little bow, and said with that smile of his:
"Lennan and I have agreed that dancing is for the young.""Sometimes the old must sacrifice themselves.Mark, will you dance?"Behind him he heard his tutor murmur:
"Ah! Lennan--you betray me!"
That little silent journey with her to the dancing-room was the happiest moment perhaps that he had ever known.And he need not have been so much afraid about his dancing.Truly, it was not polished, but it could not spoil hers, so light, firm, buoyant! It was wonderful to dance with her.Only when the music stopped and they sat down did he know how his head was going round.He felt strange, very strange indeed.He heard her say:
"What is it, dear boy? You look so white!"Without quite knowing what he did, he bent his face towards the hand that she had laid on his sleeve, then knew no more, having fainted.
