His brow grew rugged, and then as he thought on he began to feel startled at the new sensations that seemed to be springing up within his breast. He looked inward, and he obtained a glimpse of that which he had before ignored.
“Oh, it’s absurd,” he said, half aloud; “I should be mad. I should be a scoundrel.”
Then he stopped, for the face of Rhoda, with the large, searching eyes, was gazing full into his, and this time it was no fancy. She was returning from Gwennas Cove, and she had turned into the nook to see once more the spot that had aroused such envious feelings in her breast.
“You here, Mr Trethick?” she said, quietly. “I did not expect to see you.”
“I did not expect to see you here,” he said, as quietly; but his voice sounded different, and Rhoda looked up at him for a moment, and then let her eyelids fall.
She had not held out her hand to him, neither had he offered his, and they stood there in that nook amidst the granite, surrounded by a solemn silence which neither seemed disposed to break.
Nothing could have been more simple. They had met as they might have met at any time, and they might have walked back quietly to the town. It was the most everyday of occurrences, and yet it was the most important moment of their lives.
They had both been blind, and now they were awakened, Rhoda to the fact that her heart was at length stirred to its deepest depths, Geoffrey to the knowledge that with all his strength of mind, his determination, his will, he was a man with all a man’s weaknesses, and, if weakness it could be called, he loved the woman who stood with him, face to face.
He was dazzled, blinded at the revelation that had come like a lightning’s flash, and then a feeling of horror came upon him, for he felt that he had been treacherous.
Then that horror seemed to be swept away by the stronger passion, and he looked earnestly in her face till the blue-veined lids were raised, and her eyes looked deeply and trustingly in his.