Then she told him, clinging to him, fearing that he might fall from her hold as she had once fallen from his, on the mountain across the sea.
"And you danced before my eyes as only one woman on earth can dance—and I did not know! Tricked by a name and—and the change in me! You were always the same—the flame-spirit that I first saw—here!"
"And you played—that tune, and you were divinely good; and I—I did not know."
"But we drifted straight to each other, my girl!"
"Only—to part."
"To part? Never! It's past the Dreamer's Rock for us, my sweet, and out to the open sea. We'll slip our moorings to-night, and send word after! I must have you, and at once. I know what it means to see you escaping my hold. Flame-spirits are elusive."
"And—and Margaret?"
"She—needs you. A fortnight ago I saw her, and this is what she said, smiling her old, brave smile: 'I think I could bear it better if her dear, shining head was in sight. Greater love hath no woman! Find her and bring her back!' That's your place, my sweet. Out there where the fight is on. Such as you can show us—that 'tis no fight between men and women, but one against ignorance and tradition. You'll trust yourself to me, dear girl?"
