Having said this he turned on his heel and walked quickly away in the direction of his own solitary hut. He entered and closed the door.
The evening meal finished, Ellison and Esther passed out to the veranda together. The day had been fine, but the night was dark and stormy; thick clouds obscured the heavens, big waves broke on the beach with ominous grumblings, and now and again swift streaks of lightning flashed across the sky. Husband and wife sat side by side. The man was reviewing in his mind the events of the day, and wondering at the strange conversation he had had with Murkard that evening. In spite of his supreme happiness a vague feeling of sadness was upon him that would not be dispelled. Esther was all content. Woman-like she derived an intense pleasure from mere personal contact with the being she adored. She could just see the outline of his face against the sky, and she wondered at its sadness. At last she spoke:
"Of what are you thinking, husband mine?"
He started as if she had stung him, and hastened to reply:
"Can't you guess? I was thinking of you and of all you have done for me."
"Perhaps a little of me, but not altogether, I fear. Cuthbert, do you believe you will ever regret?"
"No, no! ten thousand times, no! Would a man ever regret having been given a chance of heaven?"
"You are begging the question! I mean, my husband,"--her voice dwelt with infinite tenderness upon the name,--"do you think you will ever have cause to wish you had never seen me, when you see what other cleverer and prettier women you might have married?"
"I should never have married any other. You are my destiny. I was born into the world to marry you, and no one else. How could it possibly have been otherwise?"
"You are very silly. I want to talk seriously."
"It is nonsense. But listen, dear. You must forgive me for bringing up the subject on this night, of all others, but I cannot let it rest. I will never speak of it again if you wish it. But you must answer me truthfully for the last time."
He bit his lip to keep back the cry of fear that almost escaped him. He knew what was coming, and dreaded it like the cutting of a flashing knife.
"Cuthbert, if you ever went back to your old world and saw women, as I say, cleverer and more beautiful than I am, you might wish you had never seen me. You would not tell me so, and you would not, if you could help it, let me guess it, but my woman's instinct would warn me--and then what should I do? I should be chained to you, and you would be chained to me. I should be a drag upon you--a curse--instead of the help I wish to be. I should love you just the same, because I could never love anyone else; but think what the depth of my despair would be!"