Next　day　he　found　they　had　arranged　to　go　by　train　to　Totnes；　and　picnic　at　Berry　Pomeroy　Castle。　　Still　in　that　resolute　oblivion　of　the　past；　he　took　his　place　with　them　in　the　landau　beside　Halliday；　back　to　the　horses。　　And；　then；　along　the　sea　front；　nearly　at　the　turning　to　the　railway　station；　his　heart　almost　leaped　into　his　mouth。　　MeganMegan　herself！was　walking　on　the　far　pathway；　in　her　old　skirt　and　jacket　and　her　tam…o'…shanter；　looking　up　into　the　faces　of　the　passers…by。　　Instinctively　he　threw　his　hand　up　for　cover；　then　made　a　feint　of　clearing　dust　out　of　his　eyes；　but　between　his　fingers　he　could　see　her　still；　moving；　not　with　her　free　country　step；　but　wavering；　lost…looking；　pitiful…like　some　little　dog　which　has　missed　its　master　and　does　not　know　whether　to　run　on；　to　run　backwhere　to　run。　　How　had　she　come　like　this？what　excuse　had　she　found　to　get　away？what　did　she　hope　for？　　But　with　every　turn　of　the　wheels　bearing　him　away　from　her；　his　heart　revolted　and　cried　to　him　to　stop　them；　to　get　out；　and　go　to　her！　　When　the　landau　turned　the　corner　to　the　station　he　could　stand　it　no　more；　and　opening　the　carriage　door；　muttered：　〃I've　forgotten　something！　Go　ondon't　wait　for　me！　　I'll　join　you　at　the　castle　by　the　next　train！〃　　He　jumped；　stumbled；　spun　round；　recovered　his　balance；　and　walked　forward；　while　the　carriage　with　the　astonished　Hallidays　rolled　on。
  》From　the　corner　he　could　only　just　see　Megan；　a　long　way　ahead　now。　He　ran　a　few　steps；　checked　himself；　and　dropped　into　a　walk。　　With　each　step　nearer　to　her；　further　from　the　Hallidays；　he　walked　more　and　more　slowly。　　How　did　it　alter　anythingthis　sight　of　her？　　How　make　the　going　to　her；　and　that　which　must　come　of　it；　less　ugly？　For　there　was　no　hiding　itsince　he　had　met　the　Hallidays　he　had　become　gradually　sure　that　he　would　not　marry　Megan。　　It　would　only　be　a　wild　love…time；　a　troubled；　remorseful；　difficult　timeand　thenwell；　then　he　would　get　tired；　just　because　she　gave　him　everything；　was　so　simple；　and　so　trustful；　so　dewy。　　And　dewwears　off！　　The　little　spot　of　faded　colour；　her　tam…o'…shanter　cap；　wavered　on　far　in　front　of　him；　she　was　looking　up　into　every　face；　and　at　the　house　windows。　　Had　any　man　ever　such　a　cruel　moment　to　go　through？　　Whatever　he　did；　he　felt　he　would　be　a　beast。　　And　he　uttered　a　groan　which　made　a　nursemaid　turn　and　stare。　　He　saw　Megan　stop　and　lean　against　the　sea…wall；　looking　at　the　sea；　and　he　too　stopped。　　Quite　likely　she　had　never　seen　the　sea　before；　and　even　in　her　distress　could　not　resist　that　sight。　　'Yes…she's　seen　nothing；'　he　thought；　'everything's　before　her。　　And　just　for　a　few　weeks'　passion；　I　shall　be　cutting　her　life　to　ribbons。　　I'd　better　go　and　hang　myself　rather　than　do　it！'　　And　suddenly　he　seemed　to　see　Stella's　calm　eyes　looking　into　his；　the　wave　of　fluffy　hair　on　her　forehead　stirred　by　the　wind。　　Ah！　it　would　be　madness；　would　mean　giving　up　all　that　he　respected；　and　his　own　self…respect。　　He　turned　and　walked　quickly　back　towards　the　station。　　But　memory　of　that　poor；　bewildered　little　figure；　those　anxious　eyes　searching　the　passers…by；　smote　him　too　hard　again；　and　once　more　he　turned　towards　the　sea。
  The　cap　was　no　longer　visible；　that　little　spot　of　colour　had　vanished　in　the　stream　of　the　noon　promenaders。　　And　impelled　by　the　passion　of　longing；　the　dearth　which　comes　on　one　when　life　seems　to　be　whirling　something　out　of　reach；　he　hurried　forward。　　She　was　nowhere　to　be　seen；　for　half　an　hour　he　looked　for　her；　then　on　the　beach　flung　himself　face　downward　in　the　sand。　　To　find　her　again　he　knew　he　had　only　to　go　to　the　station　and　wait　till　she　returned　from　her　fruitless　quest；　to　take　her　train　home；　or　to　take　train　himself　and　go　back　to　the　farm；　so　that　she　found　him　there　when　she　returned。　　But　he　lay　inert　in　the　sand；　among　the　indifferent　groups　of　children　with　their　spades　and　buckets。　　Pity　at　her　little　figure　wandering；　seeking；　was　well…nigh　merged　in　the　spring…running　of　his　blood；　for　it　was　all　wild　feeling　nowthe　chivalrous　part；　what　there　had　been　of　it；　was　gone。　　He　wanted　her　again；　wanted　her　kisses；　her　soft；　little　body；　her　abandonment；　all　her　quick；　warm；　pagan　emotion；　wanted　the　wonderful　feeling　of　that　night　under　the　moonlit　apple　boughs；　wanted　it　all　with　a　horrible　intensity；　as　the　faun　wants　the　nymph。　　The　quick　chatter　of　the　little　bright　trout…　stream；　the　dazzle　of　the　buttercups；　the　rocks　of　the　old　〃wild　men〃；　the　calling　of　the　cuckoos　and　yaffles；　the　hooting　of　the　owls；　and　the　red　moon　peeping　out　of　the　velvet　dark　at　the　living　whiteness　of　the　blossom；　and　her　face　just　out　of　reach　at　the　window；　lost　in　its　love…look；　and　her　heart　against　his；　her　lips　answering　his；　under　the　apple　treeall　this　besieged　him。　　Yet　he　lay　inert。　　What　was　it　which　struggled　against　pity　and　this　feverish　longing；　and　kept　him　there　paralysed　in　the　warm　sand？　Three　flaxen　headsa　fair　face　with　friendly　bluegrey　eyes；　a　slim　hand　pressing　his；　a　quick　voice　speaking　his　name〃So　you　do　believe　in　being　good？〃　　Yes；　and　a　sort　of　atmosphere　as　of　some　old　walled…in　English　garden；　with　pinks；　and　cornflowers；　and　roses；　and　scents　of　lavender　and　lilaccool　and　fair；　untouched；　almost　holy　all　that　he　had　been　brought　up　to　feel　was　clean　and　good。　　And　suddenly　he　thought：　'She　might　come　along　the　front　again　and　see　me！'　and　he　got　up　and　made　his　way　to　the　rock　at　the　far　end　of　the　beach。　　There；　with　the　spray　biting　into　his　face；　he　could　think　more　coolly。　　To　go　back　to　the　farm　and　love　Megan　out　in　the　woods；　among　the　rocks；　with　everything　around　wild　and　fittingthat；　he　knew；　was　impossible；　utterly。　　To　transplant　her　to　a　great　town；　to　keep；　in　some　little　flat　or　rooms；　one　who　belonged　so　wholly　to　Naturethe　poet　in　him　shrank　from　it。　　His　passion　would　be　a　mere　sensuous　revel；　soon　gone；　in　London；　her　very　simplicity；　her　lack　of　all　intellectual　quality；　would　make　her　his　secret　plaything　nothing　else。　　The　longer　he　sat　on　the　rock；　with　his　feet　dangling　over　a　greenish　pool　from　which　the　sea　was　ebbing；　the　more　clearly　he　saw　this；　but　it　was　as　if　her　arms　and　all　of　her　were　slipping　slowly；　slowly　down　from　him；　into　the　pool；　to　be　carried　away　out　to　sea；　and　her　face　looking　up；　her　lost　face　with　beseeching　eyes；　and　dark；　wet　hair…possessed；　haunted；　tortured　him！　　He　got　up　at　last；　scaled　the　low　rock…cliff；　and　made　his　way　down　into　a　sheltered　cove。　　Perhaps　in　the　sea　he　could　get　back　his　control　lose　this　fever！　　And　stripping　off　his　clothes；　he　swam　out。　　He　wanted　to　tire　himself　so　that　nothing　mattered　and　swam　recklessly；　fast　and　far；　then　suddenly；　for　no　reason；　felt　afraid。　　Suppose　he　could　not　reach　shore　againsuppose　the　current　set　him　outor　he　got　cramp；　like　Halliday！　　He　turned　to　swim　in。　　The　red　cliffs　looked　a　long　way　off。　　If　he　were　drowned　they　would　find　his　clothes。　　The　Hallidays　would　know；　but　Megan　perhaps　neverthey　took　no　newspaper　at　the　farm。　　And　Phil　Halliday's　words　came　back　to　him　again：　〃A　girl　at　Cambridge　I　might　have　　　Glad　I　haven't　got　her　on　my　mind！〃　　And　in　that　moment　of　unreasoning　fear　he　vowed　he　would　not　have　her　on　his　mind。　　Then　his　fear　left　him；　he　swam　in　easily　enough；　dried　himself　in　the　sun；　and　put　on　his　clothes。　　His　heart　felt　sore；　but　no　longer　ached；　his　body　cool　and　refreshed。
  When　one　is　as　young　as　Ashurst；　pity　is　not　a　violent　emotion。　　And；　back　in　the　Hallidays'　sitting…room；　eating　a　ravenous　tea；　he　felt　much　like　a　man　recovered　from　fever。　　Everything　seemed　new　and　clear；　the　tea；　the　buttered　toast　and　jam　tasted　absurdly　good；　tobacco　had　never　smelt　so　nice。　　And　walking　up　and　down　the　empty　room；　he　stopped　here　and　there　to　touch　or　look。　　He　took　up　Stella's　work…basket；　fingered　the　cotton　reels　and　a　gaily…coloured　plait　of　sewing　silks；　smelt　at　the　little　bag　filled　with　woodroffe　she　kept　among　them。　　He　sat　down　at　the　piano；　playing　tunes　with　one　finger；　thinking：　'To…night　she'll　play；　I　shall　watch　her　while　she's　playing；　it　does　me　good　to　watch　her。'　　He　took　up　the　book；　which　still　lay　where　she　had　placed　it　beside　him；　and　tried　to　read。　　But　Megan's　little；　sad　figure　began　to　come　back　at　once；　and　he　got　up　and　leaned　in　the　window；　listening　to　the　thrushes　in　the　Crescent　gardens；　gazing　at　the　sea；　dreamy　and　blue　below　the　trees。　A　servant　came　in　and　cleared　the　tea　away；　and　he　still　stood；　inhaling　the　evening　air；　trying　not　to　think。　　Then　he　saw　the　Hallidays　coming　through　the　gate　of　the　Crescent；　Stella　a　little　in　front　of　Phil　and　the　children；　with　their　baskets；　and　instinctively　he　drew　back。　　His　heart；　too　sore　and　discomfited；　shrank　from　this　encounter；　yet　wanted　its　friendly　solacebore　a　grudge　against　this　influence；　yet　craved　its　cool　innocence；　and　the　pleasure　of　watching　Stella's　face。　　From　against　the　wall　behind　the　piano　he　saw　her　come　in　and　stand　looking　a　little　blank　as　though　disappointed；　then　she　saw　him　and　smiled；　a　swift；　brilliant　smile　which　warmed　yet　irritated　Ashurst。
  〃You　never　came　after　us；　Frank。〃
  〃No；　I　found　I　couldn't。〃
  〃Look！　　We　picked　such　lovely　late　violets！〃　　She　held　out　a　bunch。　Ashurst　put　his