The girl's eyes grew cloudy and troubled. "There is the town itself," she faltered. "Surely among so many people there must be some chance for a livelihood—there is work—-"
"Not of the honest kind and for such as you," he retorted. "Must I make you understand? Look at yourself, then, in the glass behind you." Suddenly he took her hand between both his own. "Who would dare hint at work to those fingers so slimly white? But one may live delicately, even in Croye."
The girl recoiled as though from a blow, and Constans felt the shame of having actually struck one. "But not you," he stammered, and raged inwardly at himself. She forgave him in a look. "But, Esmay," he said, humbly. She smiled to him to go on.
"You are thinking of the world beyond, but indeed you do not know it—its cruelty to the weak, above all to a woman. Here, at least——"
"Here the least of all," she interrupted, but would not look at him to make her meaning clearer.
"Yet you see how I could not let you go alone or even with Nanna," he urged.
"Yes, I understand that. What is it that you wish me to do?"
Constans started. Was he, then, prepared to make himself responsible for this young creature's future? Of course she could not remain longer in a position so dangerous and equivocal. But why should she not be reasonable? It was true that Nanna was quite capable of managing the boat; he had only to assist them to get away and give the word to Ulick that he might follow. Ulick would go to the end of the world to serve her.
A thoroughly sensible solution of the problem, and then in a twinkle Constans forgot that he had ever wanted Esmay to be reasonable, forgot the faith owed to a friend and the vengeance sworn against an enemy, forgot times and seasons and the peril in which they stood, forgot all things save that he was a man and she was a woman, and that he had suddenly come to desire her above all else in life.
"A woman, and some day he would come to know what that meant." Now he knew.