She knew the sound. She had heard it more than once, when he had been waiting for her down by Wheal Carnac when it was in ruins, and now he was waiting for her again by this ruined pit—for what?
For a moment her heart beat wildly, and her imagination told her that, perhaps, after all, he had come in love to ask her forgiveness, and to take her once more to his breast.
Then the tumultuous beating gradually grew calmer and then nearly stopped, as a chill of horror seized upon her. It was not in love that he had come, but in hate; and trembling, and with her brow wet with terror, she crept softly back, reached the path, and descended its dangerous steep to the shore, crept cautiously along and by the mouth of the old adit, hardly daring to pass it, lest the sound of her step should go up to where Tregenna was watching for her a couple of hundred yards away, and ended by reaching the other path down which she had frantically run to cast herself into the sea, glided softly up it, reaching the regular cliff way again; and then, but always with the dread upon her that Tregenna was in pursuit, she hurried onwards towards Carnac churchtown.
The poor girl shivered as she passed the lane leading up to the cottage, and there was a longing, yearning look in her eyes as she turned them in that direction; but she kept steadily on till she reached the gate at An Morlock, where, after a little hesitation on the part of the servant, she was admitted, and at length shown into the drawing-room, where Rhoda stood, cold and stern, silently regarding her, and with her eyes seeming to do all the questioning part.
For a time they stood gazing at each other, till Rhoda, from her proud position of vantage, began to feel that there was strength in the standing-place of her erring sister—the strength that comes from being hedged round by weakness; and, after a few minutes’ silence, there was that in Madge’s large eyes and pallid face that quite disarmed her. The stern, harsh manner passed away, and she placed a chair for her visitor.
“Will you sit down?” she said softly.
Those few gently-uttered words affected Madge strangely. She took a couple of steps forward, and then in an instant she was at Rhoda’s feet clinging to the skirt of her dress, and sobbing as if her heart would break. So violent was her agitation that Rhoda grew at length alarmed, and had serious thoughts of summoning assistance; but, on trying to move to the bell, she found Madge clinging to her tightly.
“No, no,” sobbed Madge, “don’t leave me—don’t go away till you have heard all, and tried to forgive me. Oh, Miss Penwynn, why do you hate me? Why do you think such evil of me as you do?”
“I think evil of you?” said Rhoda, with a touch of scorn in her voice that she could not repress. “Madge Mullion, you had passed out of my thoughts.”
“It is false,” cried Madge, looking up sharply. “You think of me every day, and hate me because you think I came between you and your lover.”