At the same time a slight constraint of manner was visible between them for the remainder of the afternoon.The tide turned,and they were obliged to ascend to higher ground.The day glided on to its end with the usual quiet dreamy passivity of such occasions--when every deed done and thing thought is in endeavouring to avoid doing and thinking more.Looking idly over the verge of a crag,they beheld their stone dining-table gradually being splashed upon and their crumbs and fragments all washed away by the incoming sea.The vicar drew a moral lesson from the scene;Knight replied in the same satisfied strain.And then the waves rolled in furiously--the neutral green-and-blue tongues of water slid up the slopes,and were metamorphosed into foam by a careless blow,falling back white and faint,and leaving trailing followers behind.
The passing of a heavy shower was the next scene--driving them to shelter in a shallow cave--after which the horses were put in,and they started to return homeward.By the time they reached the higher levels the sky had again cleared,and the sunset rays glanced directly upon the wet uphill road they had climbed.The ruts formed by their carriage-wheels on the ascent--a pair of Liliputian canals--were as shining bars of gold,tapering to nothing in the distance.Upon this also they turned their backs,and night spread over the sea.
The evening was chilly,and there was no moon.Knight sat close to Elfride,and,when the darkness rendered the position of a person a matter of uncertainty,particularly close.Elfride edged away.
I hope you allow me my place ungrudgingly?he whispered.
Oh yes;tis the least I can do in common civility,she said,accenting the words so that he might recognize them as his own returned.
Both of them felt delicately balanced between two possibilities.