But the Moment for Sabine had come; she could resist its force no more, every nerve in her whole body was quivering—every unknown, though half-guessed emotion was stirring her soul. Her whole being seemed to be convulsed in one concentrated desire. The reality had materialized the echoes she had often dimly felt from that night of long ago.
The wild passion which she had feared, and only that very evening had repudiated as being an impossible experience for her, had now overtaken her, and she could struggle no more.
"Michael!" she whispered breathlessly, and held out her arms.
With a cry of joy he clasped her to him in a fierce ecstasy. All the pent-up feelings in both their souls let loose at last.
It was a moment which caused time and place and all other things to be forgotten in a glory as great as though eternity had come.
"My darling, my darling!" he murmured, kissing her hair and brow and eyelids. "Oh! the hideous cruelty that it is all too late and this must be good-bye."
But Sabine clung to him half sobbing, telling him she could not bear it; he must not leave her now. And so they stood clasped together, trembling with love and misery.
"Darling," at last he besought her, while he unclasped her tender hands from round his neck. "Darling, do not tempt me—it is frightful pain, but I must keep my word. You had reason once to think that I was an uncontrollable brute, but you shall not be able to do so any more. I would never respect myself—or you—again if I let you make me faithless to Henry now. It is cruel sorrow, but we cannot think of ourselves; you know, we used too lightly for our own ends what should have been an awfully sacred tie. Do you remember, Sabine, we swore to God to love and be faithful forever—not meaning a word we said—and now we are punished—" A great sob shook his deep voice.
"Darling child—I love you madly, madly, Sabine—dear little one—but you and I are just driftwood, floating down the tide—not like Henry, who is a splendid fellow of great use to England. It is impossible that his whole life should be ruined and sacrificed for our selfishness. Darling—" and he paused and drew her to him again fondly. "It is our own fault. We have let the situation develop through indecision and, I expect, wounded vanity and weakness—and now we must have strength to abide by our words. Henry isn't young like we are, you see. I honestly believe it would knock him right out if anything went wrong."
But Sabine clung to him still. She could think of nothing but that she loved him, and that he was her mate and her husband, and why must she be torn from his side for the happiness of any other man.