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"You are faithful, Silencieux; you love her still." "Yes, I love her still." "And with whom did love come next, Silencieux?" "Oh, I loved many those years, for the loss of a great love sends us vainly from hand to hand of many lesser loves, to ease a little the great ache; and at that time the world seemed full of my lovers. I have forgotten none of them.
But still Silencieux neither spoke nor smiled. "Listen, Silencieux," at last cried Antony, beside himself, "unless you answer me, I will die this night, and my blood shall be upon your cruel altar for ever." As he spoke he snatched a dagger from among some bibelots on his mantel, and drew it from its sheath. "You are proud of your martyrs," he laughed; "see, I will bleed to death for your sake.
Never had Silencieux been so kind, so close to him. "Let us be little children," he said. "Let us do anything that comes into our heads." So they ran in and out among pleasures together, joined strange dances and sang strange songs. They clapped their hands to jugglers and acrobats, and animals tortured into talent.
He kissed her softly and took her with him out into the ferns. So long as the moon held, Antony stole up the wood each night to meet Silencieux "at the rising of the moon." Sometimes he would lie in a hollow with her head upon his knee, and gaze for an hour at a time, entranced, into her face. He would feign to himself that she slept, and he would hold his breath lest he should awaken her.
She looked doubly strange in the evening light, and her smile softened and deepened as the shadows gathered in the room. Antony came and stood in front of her. "Silencieux," he whispered, "I love you, Silencieux. Smiling Silence, I love you. All day long on the moors your smile has stolen like a moonbeam by my side "
When he returned he would go to Silencieux, go on his knees and beg for the life of his child. Silencieux had been cruel, but she could hardly be so cruel as that. He drove back across the moor by the doctor's side. "I have always thought you unwise to live in that valley," said the doctor. "It's pretty, but like most pretty places, it's unhealthy.
"For God's sake speak to me," Antony cried. "I love you with my whole heart. I have sacrificed all I love for your sake. I would die for you this instant yes! a hundred thousand deaths. But you will not answer me one little word " But there was no answer. "Silencieux! Have you ceased to love me? Is the dream once more at an end, the magic faded? Oh, speak tell me anything only speak!"
Among these, in Antony's mind, the first and most necessary was that destruction of Silencieux which he had promised himself and his wife upon the hills. The first afternoon Beatrice noted him take a great hammer, and set out up the wood.
They longed to be somewhere together where Beatrice had never been, where her sad face could not follow them; and one night Silencieux whispered to Antony: "Take me to the sea, Antony to some lonely sea." "To-morrow I will take you," said Antony, "where the loneliest land meets the loneliest sea." On the morrow evening the High Muses had once more made Antony late for dinner.
Never had she looked more mask-like, more lifeless. "Silencieux," he cried, "I wickedly brought you my little child. O give her back to me again! I cannot bear it. I cannot give her to you, Silencieux. Take me, if you will. I will gladly die for you. But spare her. O give her back to me, Silencieux!" But the image was impassive and made no sign.
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