from me—lest in madness I give it to myself. Take me far inland from these cliffs—lest in my madness I throw myself over—I could not bear it. Will nothing move you?"
"Nothing." He stood before her, his feet apart, his arms folded, his chin on his breast, looking into her uplifted, imploring face. "Yes—one thing. One thing only." He paused, raking her face with his eyes. "Yes—one thing. Be mine wholly—unconditionally. Then I will consent. Be mine; add your name where it is wanting. Resume your ring—and Jamie shall go with the Menaidas. Now, choose."
He drew back. Judith remained kneeling, upright, on the floor with arms extended—she had heard and at first hardly comprehended him. Then she staggered to her feet.
"Well," said Coppinger, "what answer do you make? Still she could not speak. She went to the table with uncertain steps. There was a wooden form by it. She seated herself on this, placed her arms on the board, joining her hands, and laid her head, face downward, between them on the table.
Coppinger remained where he was, watching and waiting. He knew what her action implied—that she was to be left alone with her thoughts, to form her resolve undisturbed. He remained, accordingly, motionless, but with his eyes fixed on the golden hair that flickered in the dim light of the one candle. The wick had a great fungus in it—so large and glaring that in another moment it must fall, and fall on Judith's hand. Coppinger saw this and he thrust forth his arm to snuff the candle with his fingers, but his hand shook, and the light was extinguished. It mattered not. There were glowing coals on the hearth, and through the window flared and throbbed the auroral lights.
A step sounded outside. Then a hand was on the door. Coppinger at once strode across the hall, and arrested the intruder from entering.
"Who is that?"
"Hender Pendarvis"—the clerk of St. Enodoc. "I have some'ut partickler I must say."
Coppinger looked at Judith; she lay motionless, her head between her arms on the board. He partly opened the door and stepped forth into the porch.
