Some one presently came forth: and yes, it was Thol. Slowly he came
down the hill, with his head bent forward, with his hands up to his
bowed shoulders, and two burdens at his back--two goats, as Thia saw
when presently Thol turned aside southward. He looked very strange. His
hair and face seemed to have grown quite dark. And what was he doing
with those two goats? Thia lay still, with a fast-beating heart. She
felt that her voice would not have come, even had she tried to call to
him.
She watched him out of sight, then rose to her feet and, hesitatingly,
went to the foot of the hill, and then, quickly and resolutely, went up
it and into the cave.
Quick-witted though she was, the sight of three geese and three ducks
and of two sheep puzzled her deeply; and not less did she wonder at the
quantity of stacked wood. And what was that fence of osiers against the
wall? She moved it slightly and saw a great breach in the wall; and
through this some smoke came drifting in. And now her quick wits began
to work--but in such wise as to make her bewilderment the deeper.
Suddenly, drawing a deep breath, she went down on her hands and knees,
and crawled rapidly through.
She was soon back again. Blinking hard and shaking the smoke from
her nostrils, she went to breathe the clear air at the cave’s mouth.
But, good though this air was, she hardly tasted it. She had burst
out sobbing. She, who never in all her life had shed tears, sobbed
much now. But she remembered that tears make people’s eyes ugly. So
she controlled herself and dried her eyes vigorously. She had not
remembered that the palms of her hands must be all black from her
crawl. When she saw them, and knew what her face must be now, she burst
out laughing. And the sound made her feel very young, for it was long
since she had laughed. But, as she wished to please Thol’s eyes, she
retired to the back of the cave and crouched where she would scarcely
be seen by him when he came.
He came at last, and then, very softly, she cried out to him, ‘Thol!’
He, brave though he was, started violently.
‘Do not look at me, O Thol! Not yet! For my face is black and would
displease you. Look at me only after you have heard me. O Thol, if they
said now that you were a god, almost would I believe them. But if you
were a god your deed would be less great. The wonder is that you are
a man, and were once mine. O Thol, forgive me, keep me here with you,
need me!’
But he slowly answered, ‘Nay, O Thia, this cave is not now for a woman.’
‘Not for a woman that is your wife and lover? Think! Was it not for my
sake and for love of me that you thought to do what you are doing?’
‘Yea, O Thia. Yet, now that I am doing it, itself suffices me. I am
strong, and suffer not under the burden of it. The very heaviness of
it makes me glad. And now your knowledge of it gladdens me, too. But I
would not have you bear the least part of it with me. Go to your own
home!’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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