e said. "It will take many days, many
nights, that punishment--till you have left off crying for mercy, or
expecting it."

He was on the threshold. His eyes suddenly shot up with a gloating
hatred to Merryon's.

"And you," he said, "will have the pleasure of knowing every night when
you lie down alone that she is either writhing under the lash--a
frequent exercise for a while, my good sir--or finding subtle comfort in
my arms; both pleasant subjects for your dreams."

He was gone. The door closed slowly, noiselessly, upon his exit. There
was no sound of departing feet.

But Merryon neither listened nor cared. He had turned Puck's deathly
face upwards, and was covering it with burning, passionate kisses,
drawing her back to life, as it were, by the fiery intensity of his
worship.

CHAPTER IX

GREATER THAN DEATH

She came to life, weakly gasping. She opened her eyes upon him with the
old, unwavering adoration in their depths. And then before his burning
look hers sank. She hid her face against him with an inarticulate sound
more anguished than any weeping.

The savagery went out of his hold. He drew her to the _charpoy_ on which
she had spent so many evenings waiting for him, and made her sit down.

She did not cling to him any longer; she only covered her face so that
he should not see it, huddling herself together in a piteous heap, her
black, curly head bowed over her knees in an overwhelming agony of
humiliation.

Yet there was in the situation something that was curiously reminiscent
of that night when she had leapt from the burning stage into the safety
of his arms. Now, as then, she was utterly dependent upon the charity of
his soul.

He turned from her and poured brandy and water into a glass. He came
back and knelt beside her.

"Drink it, my darling!" he said.

She made a quick gesture as of surprised protest. She did not raise her
head. It was as if an invisible hand were crushing her to the earth.

"Why don't you--kill me?" she said.

He laid his hand upon her bent head. "Because you are the salt of the
earth to me," he said; "because I worship you."

She caught the hand with a little sound of passionate endearment, and
laid her face down in it, her hot, quivering lips against his palm. "I
love you so!" she said. "I love you so!"

He pressed her face slowly upwards. But she resisted. "No, no! I
can't--meet--your--eyes."

"You need not be afraid," he said. "Once and for all, Puck