XLV
Peter did not know that happiness could be so tranquil till in the morning he floated with Miranda upon the quiet sea. It seemed that only now did he have peace and time to realise that the miracle of their love was complete. It flooded him slowly in the silence of the dawn, as, waking to the chatter of birds, he lay without stirring, fearing to shake the comfort of a perfect memory. Miranda, waking soon, had answered his thought with only a pressure of the hand. The slow opening of her eyes, deep with fulfilment, sealed their marriage in the sun, assuring him it was not a passing ecstasy of moonlight and dark hours.
Then they had planned for the day to sail before a light wind, rounding the western rocks of the island. This would meet their need to be happily alone.
Peter had hired a tiny lugger in the bay, and they were passing now under the cliffs, making to weather the Needles and enjoy the painted glory of Alum.
The peace of a track almost unvisited, and the unnatural calm of the water, emphasized the cruelty of this iron shore. The sea lapped softly into worn caves at the base of the cliff. Sometimes it idly flung a wave of the tide so that it slapped at a hollow rock as at a muted drum, making a sound faintly terrible, like an understatement of something too evil to be uttered aloud.
Peter shuddered at the sound and at the sleeping white horror of the shore. He thought with regret of the sheltered and homely bay they had left. He had seen and enjoyed places more wild and lonely than this; but to-day he seemed no longer to desire their inhuman beauty.
Last night, upon the cliff, he had been ready to jump at death. It had seemed the only possible consummation of a passion that reached beyond him. But to-day he walked upon the earth. Something was added to his love—a comfortable sanity, a touch of dear humour, an immense friendliness.
He began to find in Miranda a homeliness more thrilling than the virginal beauty he had hardly dared to see. The wind and sun of their ride yesterday through Hampshire had rudely touched her face. To-day it was visibly peeling. She was no longer, in his eyes, remote and queenly, but she was infinitely more precious. He saw that her arm was freckled at the wrist.