He paused again, as if the state of mind he was describing was a puzzle to himself—­paused and frowned.

“I left the inn and started up the road—­I suppose I wanted to get a glimpse of the house in which you lived.  Yes; that must have been it.  And then, all at once, I saw you.  I remember the frock you wore that night—­you looked like an angel, a spirit standing there in the moonlight, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.  Are you angry with me for saying so?  Don’t be; for I’ve got to tell you everything, and—­and—­it’s difficult!”

He was silent a moment.  Her head was still down-bent, her small white hand hung at her side; she was quite motionless but for the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of her bosom.

“When you came to me, when you spoke to me, my heart leapt as if—­well, as if something good had happened to me—­something that had never happened before.  When I went away the picture of you standing at the door, waving your hand, went with me, and—­stayed with me.  I could not get you out of my mind—­could think of nothing else.  Even in the meeting with my father, whom I hadn’t seen for so long, the thought of you kept with me.  I tried to get rid of it—­to forget you, but it was of no use:  sleeping and waking, you—­you were with me!”

His voice grew almost harsh in its intensity, and the hand that had hung so stilly beside her closed on the skirt of her dress in her effort to keep the hot blush from her face.

“When I rode out the next day it was only with the hope of seeing you.  It seemed to me there was only one thing I wanted:  to see you again; to look into your eyes, to hear you speak.  All that I had heard about you—­well, I dwelt upon it, and I felt that I must help you.  It seemed as if Fate—­Chance—­oh, I don’t know what to call it!—­had sent me to help you.  And when I saw you—­ah, well, I can’t expect you to understand what I felt!”

He stopped again, as if he himself were trying to understand it.

“The feeling that fate had something to do with it—­you see, it was quite by chance I started fishing that afternoon, that I saw you at the house—­gave me courage to ask you to let me help you.  It sounded ridiculous to you—­of course it did!—­but if you only knew how much it meant to me!  It meant that I should see you again; perhaps every day for—­for a long time:  ah, well, it meant just life and death to me.  And now—!”

His breath came fast, his eyes dwelt upon her with passionate eagerness; but he forced himself to speak calmly than he might not frighten her from his side, might not lose her.

—­“Now the truth has come upon me, quite suddenly.  It was just now when I saw that you cared what had happened to me, cared if I were hurt!—­Oh, I know, it was just because you were frightened, it was just a woman’s pity for a fellow that had come to harm, the fear lest I had broken any bones; but—­ah, it showed me my heart, it told me how much I loved you!  Yes; I love you!  You are all the world to me:  nothing else matters, nothing!”