She was nearing the place where the cough had come from, yet Skag did not run. A second time he held up his hand, palm outward, but she still came forward laughing.
"You ran from me?"
"I did not think of you coming so far--to-day."
Skag had stepped between her and the river, turning her toward the city, but Carlin drew back.
"I have come so far. I want to go to our--to the monkey glen!"
She was watching him strangely. Skag understood something that moment: that he might know of Carlin"s delight through her eyes, of all joy and good that he might bring, but that he should never know from her eyes if he brought hurt. Skag put this back into the deep place of his mind.
"All right. We"ll go back," he said. "They were here--the whole troupe. Just a minute ago, they swung away--"
He saw for an instant her wonderment that he had come alone. She would have been very glad to see the monkey people again; she could not quite see why she should have missed this; she did not understand his words--that he had not expected her to follow into the glen.
She was sitting down on her own log, but he stood. Skag was driven to speak. The need had now to do with one of his favourite words. It was a matter of _equity_ that he speak. The words came in a slow ordered tone:
"I was waiting for you there--back at the edge of the jungle--but it came to me that I was not ready."
Carlin had been looking away into the three-lanes. Her eyes came up to his.
"Not ready?" she said.
"All night I could only remember one thing--"
"What thing?"
"That you had not told me you would come again."
Carlin"s shoulders lifted a little. She cleared her throat, saying:
"I thought of it."
"This morning the idea occurred that you might come to the jungle at noon--like yesterday, but the hours wouldn"t pa.s.s after that. I met something different that would not be quiet--"
"Where?"
"I mean in myself."
Carlin"s eyes widened a little, but she only said:
"Oh!"
"It would not rest. I could not wait in calm. I was afraid you wouldn"t come--yet I was afraid of your coming. My face worked of its own accord, and my words would not say what I knew--"
"When was that?"
"It was worse when I reached the jungle a little before noon and began to watch for you."
"And--you ran away?"
"I was not good to look upon."
"But you are not like that now--quite controlled--like blue ice--"
Skag turned his eyes slowly back the path by the river where the cough had come from.
"I am better now," he said.
"I wonder if anyone ever thought of running away like that?"
"It is not a good feeling to be at the mercy of oneself," Skag said.
Carlin caught a quick breath. There was a steadiness in his eyes. It was steadier than anything she knew. The light of it was so high and keen that it seemed _still_.
"Nothing like this has happened before," he said quietly.
Carlin arose. Their eyes met level.
"Everything is changed," he went on. "It was like a grief that you were not here--when the monkeys came in. . . . I"m not right. I did not know before that a girl was part of me. It was all animals before.
I"m not ready--but I will be! You are good to listen, but really you had to--"
Carlin let her lids fall a second.
"I mean I couldn"t stop when it started."
There was silence before he finished: "I know everything better. I know all the creatures better--all the cries they make. And yet I"m less--I"m only half--"
It was then her hand came out to him.
"Does it mean anything to you?" he asked.
"Yes--"
"_Does it mean everything to you--too?_"
Her voice trailed. It was closer. It was everywhere. It was like a voice coming up from his own heart:
"Yes, everything--especially because you could run away. . . . But I--came!"
They were walking toward Hurda among the shadows, Skag closer to the river. . . . The night was coming with a richness they had never seen--tinted shadows of purple, orange and rose--almost a living gleam to the colours; the evening air cool and sweet.
Carlin told him that her family must understand and be considered and give approval. . . . There was an eldest brother in Poona who must be seen. . . . All arrangements must be made with him. Skag said he would go to Poona at once. . . .
They were lingering now at the edge of the jungle; its spices upon them in the dry air.
". . . And I will wait here in Hurda," Carlin was saying. "You may be gone many days. You may not find him at once, and you will have to wait at Poona, but I shall know when you come. The train coming _up_ is before noon. Listen! You will not find me at the bungalow. No, that would not be the way for us. . . . This will be perfect. I will be waiting for you--our place--back in the monkey glen."