"That I am in my senses, Mr Chynoweth," said Madge sharply, as she drew
down her veil; "but I am. John Tregenna, I shall keep my word."
She went slowly out of the inner room and across the office, Chynoweth
hastening after her to open the door, John Tregenna coming close behind,
as if to see that Madge did not speak again; but she went away without a
word.
"Poor creature!" exclaimed Tregenna. "I suppose I must not heed a word
she said. Of course you did not hear, Mr Chynoweth?"
"No, sir, not a word hardly; only when she spoke very loud."
"Ah, poor thing, her brain is touched, no doubt," he said, as he
returned to the inner room, where his countenance seemed to change in a
way that, had she seen it, would have made Madge Mullion shrink from him
in dread, and, perhaps, hesitate in her intention to go up and see Rhoda
Penwynn some time that night.
CHAPTER FIFTY THREE.
BY THE SOLEMN SHORE.
Geoffrey started off along the cliff with a strange feeling of dread in
his breast, and as he hurried along it was with his eyes gazing down
upon the shore, so that he passed without seeing that some one was
seated on one of the blocks of stone by the old mine shaft, enjoying the
sunshine and gazing apparently sadly out to sea.
He noted the two descending paths that were connected in his mind with
poor Madge's attempt to commit self-destruction, and hesitated as to
whether he should descend; but he decided upon going on straight, first,
to the town, and as he strode on he could not help sighing as he glanced
at the buildings about Wheal Carnac.
"I wonder who bought it," he said; and for a moment or two he mused upon
old Prawle's sulky indifference now that his _coup_ had failed, and
wondered whether it would be of any use to try for a post with the new
proprietors.
"A nice character mine to go with," he muttered. "Poor Madge! Where
can she be? Has she gone up to Tregenna?"
The more he thought of this the stronger the idea became, and with a
curious feeling of hope, that he vainly tried to crush down, rising in
his breast, he went quickly on, to utter an ejaculation the next moment,
for there was Madge walking towards him along the cliff.
"Why, Madge!" he exclaimed. "You quite frightened me. Where have you
been?"
"Don't touch me--don't speak to me, Mr Trethick," she said, in a sharp,
harsh voice.
"But I shall speak to you, and I shall touch you," said Geoffrey, with a
quiet firmness. "There, let your arm rest there. Hang on to me as much
as you like: you are weak and excited, and ready to faint. There, let's
walk steadily back. Don't hurry. Take off your veil, and let the
sea-breeze blow upon your face; it will revive you."
"Oh--oh--oh!" came softly as a whisper from beneath that veil, as
Geoffrey's words seemed to change the spirit that was burning in the
poor girl's breast; and, weakly and helplessly enough now, she hung upon
his arm, and suffered him to lead her onward towards the Cove.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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