Dead Mans Plack and an Old Thorn | Page 8

would come back over her when he again went away. Her only relief in
her condition was to sit before a fire or when out of doors to seat

herself on the bank of the stream and watch the current. For although it
was still summer, the month being August, she would have a fire of
logs lighted in a large chamber and sit staring at the flames by the hour,
and sometimes holding her outstretched hands before the flames until
they were hot, she would then press them to her lips. Or when the day
was warm and bright she would be out of doors and spend hours by the
river gazing at the swift crystal current below as if fascinated by the
sight of the running water. It is a marvellously clear water, so that
looking down on it you can see the rounded pebbles in all their various
colours and markings lying at the bottom, and if there should be a trout
lying there facing the current and slowly waving his tail from side to
side, you could count the red spots on his side, so clear is the water.
Even more did the floating water-grass hold her gaze--that bright green
grass that, rooted in the bed of the stream, sends its thin blades to the
surface where they float and wave like green floating hair. Stooping,
she would dip a hand in the stream and watch the bright clear water
running through the fingers of her white hand, then press the hand to
her lips.
Then again when day declined she would quit the stream to sit before
the blazing logs, staring at the flames. What am I doing here? she
would murmur. And what is this my life? When I was at home in
Devon I had a dream of Winchester, of Salisbury, or other great towns
further away, where the men and women who are great in the land meet
together, and where my eyes would perchance sometimes have the
happiness to behold the king himself--my husband's close friend and
companion. My waking has brought a different scene before me; this
castle in the wilderness, a solitude where from an upper window I look
upon leagues of forest, a haunt of wild animals. I see great birds soaring
in the sky and listen to the shrill screams of kite and buzzard; and
sometimes when lying awake on a still night the distant long howl of a
wolf. Also, it is said, there are great stags, and roe-deer, and wild boars,
and it is Athelwold's joy to hunt them and slay them with his spear. A
joy too when he returns from the hunt or from a long absence to play
with his beautiful wife--his caged bird of pretty feathers and a sweet
song to soothe him when he is tired. But of his life at court he tells me
little, and of even that little I doubt the truth. Then he leaves me and I

am alone with his retainers--the crowd of serving men and women and
the armed men to safeguard me. I am alone with my two friends which
I have found, one out of doors, the other in--the river which runs at the
bottom of the ground where I take my walks, and the fire I sit before.
The two friends, companions, and lovers to whom all the secrets of my
soul are confided. I love them, having no other in the world to love, and
here I hold my hands before the flames until it is hot and then kiss the
heat, and by the stream I kiss my wetted hands. And if I were to remain
here until this life became unendurable I should consider as to which
one of these two lovers I should give myself. This one I think is too
ardent in his love--it would be terrible to be wrapped round in his fiery
arms and feel his fiery mouth on mine. I should rather go to the other
one to lie down on his pebbly bed, and give myself to him to hold me
in his cool, shining arms and mix his green hair with my loosened hair.
But my wish is to live and not die. Let me then wait a little longer; let
me watch and listen, and perhaps some day, by and by, from his own
lips, I shall capture the secret of this my caged solitary life.
And the very next day Athelwold, having just returned with the king to
Salisbury, was once more with her; and the brooding cloud had
vanished from her life and countenance; she was once more his
passionate bride, lavishing caresses on him, listening with childish
delight to every word that fell from his lips, and desiring no