She stopped speaking, then suddenly, without the slightest warning, burst into passionate weeping.  As she did so, the first rush of the storm passed over them, winnowing the air as with a thousand eagles’ wings, and was lost on the moaning depths beyond.

The light went out of the sky.  Now Geoffrey could only see the faint outlines of her weeping face.  One moment he hesitated and one only; then Nature prevailed against him, for the next she was in his arms.

Beatrice scarcely resisted him.  Her energies seemed to fail her, or perhaps she had spent them in her bitter words.  Her head fell upon his shoulder, and there she sobbed her fill.  Presently she lifted it and their lips met in a first long kiss.  It was finished; this was the end of it—­and thus did Geoffrey prosper Owen Davies’s suit.

“Oh, you are cruel, cruel!” he whispered in her ear.  “You must have known I loved you, Beatrice, that I spoke against myself because I thought it to be my duty.  You must have known that, to my sin and sorrow, I have always loved you, that you have never been an hour from my mind, that I have longed to see your face like a sick man for the light.  Tell me, did you not know it, Beatrice?”

“How should I know?” she answered very softly; “I could only guess, and if indeed you love me how could you wish me to marry another man?  I thought that you had learned my weakness and took this way to reproach me.  Oh, Geoffrey, what have we done?  What is there between you and me—­except our love?”

“It would have been better if we had been drowned together at the first,” he said heavily.

“No, no,” she answered, “for then we never should have loved one another.  Better first to love, and then to die!”

“Do not speak so,” he said; “let us sit here and be happy for a little while to-night, and leave trouble till to-morrow.”

And, where on a bygone day Beatrice had tarried with another wooer, side by side they sat upon the great stone and talked such talk as lovers use.

Above them moaned the rising gale, though sheltered as they were by cliffs its breath scarcely stirred their hair.  In front of them the long waves boomed upon the beach, while far out to sea the crescent moon, draped in angry light, seemed to ride the waters like a boat.

And were they alone with their great bliss, or did they only dream?  Nay, they were alone with love and lovers’ joys, and all the truth was told, and all their doubts were done.  Now there was an end of hopes and fears; now reason fell and Love usurped his throne, and at that royal coming Heaven threw wide her gates.  Oh, Sweetest and most dear!  Oh, Dearest and most sweet!  Oh, to have lived to find this happy hour—­oh, in this hour to die!

See heaviness is behind us, see now we are one.  Blow, you winds, blow out your stormy heart; we know the secret of your strength, you rush to your desire.  Fall, deep waters of the sea, fall in thunder at the feet of earth; we hear the music of your pleading.