She was repentant at once, as her way was always. “No, ’tis not like me. You meant it well—but, David, you are clumsy.”
Again the longing came to her to keep him here in Garth. The shadow of a great helplessness lay over her, and from one moment to the next she did not know her mind.
“David,” she said, by and by, “do you guess what they will say if you leave Garth now, with the fever all about us?”
“I never try to guess what they’ll say, lass. What I do is enough for me.”
Cilla, still hating this random mood of hers, could not hold back the words. “They’ll say you choose your time for leaving carefully, after thinking about it all these months. They’ll say you are as frightened of the fever as other folk. They’ll say—that you’re a coward, David.”
“They’ll be liars, then, Cilla. I’m a man o’ my hands, lile lass, and I’ve learned a little here and there fro’ my tools. Iron’s stubborn, and needs patience, but there’s luck, somehow, when ye’ve hammered the horseshoe into shape. As for the fever—well, it finds ye, or it doesn’t, and that’s i’ God’s hands. I’m a bit daft, like Billy the Fool. The day’s work is enough for me—Billy calls it play.”
Priscilla looked at him for a moment, as a child looks for a guiding hand. “I—I was wrong to say that, David. No one dare say that you were frightened. David, what ails me that I want to quarrel with my oldest friend?”
“’Tis the heat, Cilla. We’re all wearied out, I reckon. Quarrel wi’ me? You could as well quarrel wi’ yond grandfather’s clock i’ the corner, while ’tis saying tick-tack to ye all day long and never changes tune.”
Cilla laughed uneasily. “That is the reason, maybe. I love the old clock, but sometimes—oh, David, I’m weary of its notes sometimes—and yet I should cry my heart out if—if the clock was not ticking in the corner.”
He should have seen her need of guidance, should have taken her random hint that he might try a change of note—even if his voice were unaccustomed to it and sounded out of tune. But David had made up his mind that morning, after long indecision, and his face was set toward the lonely lands.