work that unconscious justice; against his will
had set down the truth. And, wondering whether he would ever work at it
again, he redamped the cloths and wrapped it carefully.

He did not go to her village, but to one five or six miles down the
river--it was safer, and the row would steady him. Hiring a skiff, he
pulled up stream. He travelled very slowly to kill time, keeping under
the far bank. And as he pulled, his very heart seemed parched with
nervousness. Was it real that he was going to her, or only some
fantastic trick of Fate, a dream from which he would wake to find
himself alone again? He passed the dove-cot at last, and kept on till he
could round into the backwater and steal up under cover to the poplar.
He arrived a few minutes before eight o'clock, turned the boat round,
and waited close beneath the bank, holding to a branch, and standing so
that he could see the path. If a man could die from longing and anxiety,
surely Lennan must have died then!

All wind had failed, and the day was fallen into a wonderful still
evening. Gnats were dancing in the sparse strips of sunlight that
slanted across the dark water, now that the sun was low. From the
fields, bereft of workers, came the scent of hay and the heavy scent of
meadow-sweet; the musky odour of the backwater was confused with them
into one brooding perfume. No one passed. And sounds were few and far to
that wistful listener, for birds did not sing just there. How still and
warm was the air, yet seemed to vibrate against his cheeks as though
about to break into flame. That fancy came to him vividly while he stood
waiting--a vision of heat simmering in little pale red flames. On the
thick reeds some large, slow, dusky flies were still feeding, and now
and then a moorhen a few yards away splashed a little, or uttered a
sharp, shrill note. When she came--if she did come!--they would not stay
here, in this dark earthy backwater; he would take her over to the other
side, away to the woods! But the minutes passed, and his heart sank.
Then it leaped up. Someone was coming--in white, with bare head, and
something blue or black flung across her arm. It was she! No one else
walked like that! She came very quickly. And he noticed that her hair
looked like little wings on either side of her brow, as if her face
were a white bird with dark wings, flying to love! Now she was close, so
close that he could see her lips parted, and her eyes love-lighted--like
nothing i