THE OPEN HEART.
“I HAVE told you the truth,” said William; “and when you think a little, Euphan, you will do me justice. I have not been watching you; you ought to have known that I was quite incapable of that.”
“I was wrong, sir, I’m sure. I had not time to think — I was angry.”
“Well, Euphan, you won’t refuse to shake hands.”
She laughed a little, and did shake hands.
“Euphan,” said William, still holding her hand in his, “you are the loveliest creature on earth — there is no other like you!”
“You don’t think so.”
“I do, Euphan. I never dreamed of such a creature. You are the finest spirit, the most beautiful being — I adore you I”
“No — no, you don’t.” She shook her head, as if smiling the thought away.
“Oh, Euphan! you wring my heart — you are cruel!”
Euphan smiled her proud wild smile, in which expressions mingled strangely — something of disdain, more of compassion, also something beautiful of gratification.
“You Rias talk so to us gipsy-girls, but you don’t mean it.”
“Oh, darling! you’ll break my heart. May God destroy me, but I do!”
He had taken her hand, and was holding it in both his.
“No, sir — ah no. ’Tis all folly,” she said, drawing it back, with a look that was grave, and even sad, and, having withdrawn it, she waved it back, ever so little, her arm extended; but it was a prohibition queen-like, quite natural — even girlish, but not to be disobeyed.
“Why did God make you so beautiful and so pitiless?” said William, clasping his hands.
“Beauty is only in the eyes that see it. We are all as we are, sir — we can’t change.”
“‘Sir!’ You call me ‘sir,’ and you promised to call me ‘Willie.’”
“’Twas in play.”
“No — it was no jesting; I never was so in earnest in my life,” said William, impetuously.
“There is a distance between us.”
“There’s no distance, Euphan; what shall I do to prove it?” wildly he answered.
“I don’t mean rank — there’s no rank,” she said, carelessly. “The real gipsy was never a servant from the time the world began.”
“Where is the distance, then?”
“Wide and wild as the sea,” she said sadly, and smiled, and was grave again.
“My mother told me, a Gorgio, long ago, married one of our people — a girl he fell in love with; it was but a fancy, it could not be more. It would not do — never; the tame and the wild bird should not mate.”
“God made us all, Euphan; there’s no such difference. I have read of your wild free life — there’s nothing like it. Young men of wealth and birth have so fallen in love with it as to renounce all, and follow the fortunes of the camp, and chosen beautiful wives of your mysterious race, and lived free and happy, and every year loved its liberty and beauty better, and never repented their choice, or thought with a sigh of the dull world they had left behind.”
Euphan smiled a melancholy smile at these wild words: —
“If I thought you spoke in earnest, sir, you should see me no more. You shan’t stay with me longer. Go your way home, Willie, as if you had not seen me. I’ll talk no more now, for Euphan’s heart is heavy.”
“Euphan!” he said, wild and pale, “you are going; if I leave you now I shall see you no more. Swear — that if I leave you, you will return as usual!”
“I will,” she said.
“You would not deceive me?” he pleaded.
“I’ll go back, as you say, sir. I’ll be thinking a bit here, alone; and I’ll go to the house again, and see you just the same as ever.”
The Squire looked in her face for a moment; it was pale and gentle, and the fires of her lustrous eyes were misty. In that saddened face was a look he could not doubt.
As he went homeward alone, a mad dream was whirling in his brain:
“Oh Euphan! if I thought you could ever love me best of all! Yes, the wild free life! — there’s nothing like it; the miserable life that chains us to fear and drudgery is all a fallacy. Give me the life of the tent, the mountain march, the forest camp, the simple free republic, where mortals have time to think, and to enjoy, and live with nature — God’s beautiful creation! Think no more of vain pre-eminence and tawdry competition, and the fever and lassitude of a shabby ambition. What a miserable slave I’ve been! — what a coward and a suicide! I’ve had enough of this. I have found courage at last. Beautiful Euphan! you are the spirit of liberty, who can break my chains, and lead me into an enchanted world!”