They found themselves in the heart of a grotto; a ledge in the steep cliff-side with the wild sea below; inaccessible, save by the subterranean passage through which they had entered.
CHAPTER XIII.
Man and Woman.
Now that the danger was past and they felt themselves secure from attack, Cormac and Elgiva had no thought save for each other.
Their eyes met, and there was a long silence; neither spoke; then Elgiva turned, blushing, and tried to smooth into order the long, tangled masses of her golden hair; she shook the sand and dust from her dress and veil.
“You are changed, Elgiva!” said Cormac.
Throughout the excitement of the attack and the tumult of their escape, he had been conscious of the girl’s beauty.
“Changed!” said Elgiva. “In one short year—is that possible?”
Changed—of course she had changed. It was the same fair, blue-eyed face. But she was no longer ungainly and awkward. Her skin was smooth, her hair glossy; her dress as fragrant and dainty as Ethne’s. Now as she moved about the cave he saw that the frame had softened into curves of womanly beauty.
Cormac stood struggling with a thousand varied feelings.
“Changed—ay, changed! Thou art grown beautiful—a woman—but thou art Saxon!” Then, with one of the swift changes natural to him, he suddenly grew furious. “Curse thee, thou art as Saxon as any Saxon among them—and shall I wed a Saxon?”