Her clasp tightened on his arm, and he turned quickly and taking the fingers in his hand separated them one by one between his. In the starlight he could see the fine line of her face from brow to pointed chin, and he could hear her breathing.
"This, this!" he muttered fiercely. "Your touch, so; your look, so—your voice in my ear—what makes it magic for me? Why not another? Any other—why this? To go to the heart of one! Yours—which will never be mine."
The sweep of dominating desire, the male sense of mastery and will to possess, surged up again in the man, tempting him to break the barriers she had erected between them, to take her beyond her scruples, and carry her with him, as the strong man of all time has carried away the woman whom he would have for mate.
She held her face upwards for his kiss, and as she trembled once more in the arms of the man she had consented to, there was answered in her the mystery he had propounded,—'Because of the I within me that he loves and respects, because of that I which is mine and no other's, not even his,—therefore he loves me of all the world,—I am his soul!'…
It was all snowy upland near the crest of the hill. They leaned against a rock, close together, and listened to the stillness around them, his arm beneath her cloak drawing her closer, closer to him, away from herself. In the forgetfulness of joy she seemed mounting, floating, high up above all, the man's desire bearing her on wings away from the earth with its failure and sorrow, up to the freedom she had thirsted for, up to fulfilment….
Now his eyes, once more victorious, looked close into hers, and something within her spoke,—low and sweet and far away….
"I love you, dearest! I will be yours, as you will have me,—as we were those other days, and more. Much more! I will be your slave, your mistress,—to do with as you wish, to take and leave…. There can be no marriage, none. Will you have me? Will you take me like that? To be your thing? Will you … and throw me away when I am used and finished for you? … I will give you all! Now! … And when the time comes that must come, I will go out."
Then, at last, the man saw! She would give all, even her own soul, if he would take it. But first, there was something he must kill,—there in her body within his close embrace, with her breath on his face,—something she offered him as a last gift to kill…. The body was but a symbol, a piece of clothing, a rag…. So he understood, and after a long time his arms loosened about her.
"I see," he whispered, and as he kissed her lips, "Never that!"
The summit of the mountain loomed above them,—the Altar. Margaret as they turned towards the village stretched her arms upwards to the Altar,—there where she had lain as it were naked for the sacrifice before the man she loved. "Come!" he said gently.