SHE had lost the sense of time, and did not know howlate it was till she came out into the street and sawthat all the windows were dark between Miss Hatchard'sand the Royall house.
As she passed from under the black pall of the Norwayspruces she fancied she saw two figures in the shadeabout the duck-pond. She drew back and watched; butnothing moved, and she had stared so long into thelamp-lit room that the darkness confused her, and shethought she must have been mistaken.
She walked on, wondering whether Mr. Royall was stillin the porch. In her exalted mood she did not greatlycare whether he was waiting for her or not: she seemedto be floating high over life, on a great cloud ofmisery beneath which every-day realities had dwindledto mere specks in space. But the porch was empty, Mr.
Royall's hat hung on its peg in the passage, and thekitchen lamp had been left to light her to bed. Shetook it and went up.
The morning hours of the next day dragged bywithout incident. Charity had imagined that, in someway or other, she would learn whether Harney hadalready left; but Verena's deafness prevented her beinga source of news, and no one came to the house whocould bring enlightenment.
Mr. Royall went out early, and did not return tillVerena had set the table for the midday meal. When hecame in he went straight to the kitchen and shouted tothe old woman: "Ready for dinner----" then he turnedinto the dining-room, where Charity was already seated.
Harney's plate was in its usual place, but Mr. Royalloffered no explanation of his absence, and Charityasked none. The feverish exaltation of the nightbefore had dropped, and she said to herself that he hadgone away, indifferently, almost callously, and thatnow her life would lapse again into the narrow rut outof which he had lifted it. For a moment she wasinclined to sneer at herself for not having used thearts that might have kept him.
She sat at table till the meal was over, lest Mr.
Royall should remark on her leaving; but when he stoodup she rose also, without waiting to help Verena.
She had her foot on the stairs when he called to her tocome back.
"I've got a headache. I'm going up to lie down.""I want you should come in here first; I've gotsomething to say to you."She was sure from his tone that in a moment she wouldlearn what every nerve in her ached to know; but as sheturned back she made a last effort of indifference.
Mr. Royall stood in the middle of the office, his thickeyebrows beetling, his lower jaw trembling a little.
At first she thought he had been drinking; then she sawthat he was sober, but stirred by a deep and sternemotion totally unlike his usual transient angers. Andsuddenly she understood that, until then, she had neverreally noticed him or thought about him. Except on theoccasion of his one offense he had been to her merelythe person who is always there, the unquestionedcentral fact of life, as inevitable but asuninteresting as North Dormer itself, or any of theother conditions fate had laid on her. Even then shehad regarded him only in relation to herself, and hadnever speculated as to his own feelings, beyondinstinctively concluding that he would not troubleher again in the same way. But now she began to wonderwhat he was really like.
He had grasped the back of his chair with both hands,and stood looking hard at her. At length he said:
"Charity, for once let's you and me talk together likefriends."Instantly she felt that something had happened, andthat he held her in his hand.
"Where is Mr. Harney? Why hasn't he come back? Have yousent him away?" she broke out, without knowing what shewas saying.
The change in Mr. Royall frightened her. All the bloodseemed to leave his veins and against his swarthypallor the deep lines in his face looked black.
"Didn't he have time to answer some of those questionslast night? You was with him long enough!" he said.
Charity stood speechless. The taunt was so unrelatedto what had been happening in her soul that she hardlyunderstood it. But the instinct of self-defense awokein her.
"Who says I was with him last night?""The whole place is saying it by now.""Then it was you that put the lie into theirmouths.--Oh, how I've always hated you!" she cried.
She had expected a retort in kind, and it startled herto hear her exclamation sounding on through silence.
"Yes, I know," Mr. Royall said slowly. "But that ain'tgoing to help us much now.""It helps me not to care a straw what lies you tellabout me!""If they're lies, they're not my lies: my Bible oath onthat, Charity. I didn't know where you were: I wasn'tout of this house last night."She made no answer and he went on: "Is it a lie thatyou were seen coming out of Miss Hatchard's nigh ontomidnight?"She straightened herself with a laugh, all her recklessinsolence recovered. "I didn't look to see what timeit was.""You lost girl...you...you...Oh, my God, why did youtell me?" he broke out, dropping into his chair, hishead bowed down like an old man's.
Charity's self-possession had returned with the senseof her danger. "Do you suppose I'd take thetrouble to lie to YOU? Who are you, anyhow, toask me where I go to when I go out at night?"Mr. Royall lifted his head and looked at her. His facehad grown quiet and almost gentle, as she rememberedseeing it sometimes when she was a little girl, beforeMrs. Royall died.
"Don't let's go on like this, Charity. It can't do anygood to either of us. You were seen going into thatfellow's house...you were seen coming out of it....I'vewatched this thing coming, and I've tried to stop it.
As God sees me, I have....""Ah, it WAS you, then? I knew it was you that senthim away!"He looked at her in surprise. "Didn't he tell you so?
I thought he understood." He spoke slowly, withdifficult pauses, "I didn't name you to him: I'd havecut my hand off sooner. I just told him I couldn'tspare the horse any longer; and that the cooking wasgetting too heavy for Verena. I guess he's the kindthat's heard the same thing before. Anyhow, he took itquietly enough. He said his job here was about done,anyhow; and there didn't another word pass betweenus....If he told you otherwise he told you an untruth."Charity listened in a cold trance of anger. Itwas nothing to her what the village said...but all thisfingering of her dreams!
"I've told you he didn't tell me anything. I didn'tspeak with him last night.""You didn't speak with him?""No....It's not that I care what any of you say...butyou may as well know. Things ain't between us the wayyou think...and the other people in this place. He waskind to me; he was my friend; and all of a sudden hestopped coming, and I knew it was you that done it--YOU!" All her unreconciled memory of the past flamedout at him. "So I went there last night to find outwhat you'd said to him: that's all."Mr. Royall drew a heavy breath. "But, then--if hewasn't there, what were you doing there all that time?--Charity, for pity's sake, tell me. I've got to know,to stop their talking."This pathetic abdication of all authority over her didnot move her: she could feel only the outrage of hisinterference.
"Can't you see that I don't care what anybody says?
It's true I went there to see him; and he was in hisroom, and I stood outside for ever so long and watchedhim; but I dursn't go in for fear he'd think I'dcome after him...." She felt her voice breaking, andgathered it up in a last defiance. "As long as I liveI'll never forgive you!" she cried.
Mr. Royall made no answer. He sat and pondered withsunken head, his veined hands clasped about the arms ofhis chair. Age seemed to have come down on him aswinter comes on the hills after a storm. At length helooked up.
"Charity, you say you don't care; but you're theproudest girl I know, and the last to want people totalk against you. You know there's always eyeswatching you: you're handsomer and smarter than therest, and that's enough. But till lately you've nevergiven them a chance. Now they've got it, and they'regoing to use it. I believe what you say, but theywon't....It was Mrs. Tom Fry seen you going in...andtwo or three of them watched for you to come outagain....You've been with the fello............