It was with a feeling of great relief that I watched the fellow
out of sight; nevertheless his very presence seemed to have left a
blight upon all things, for he, viewing matters with the material
eye of Common-sense, had, thereby, contaminated them--even the air
seemed less pure and sweet than it had been heretofore, so that,
glancing over my shoulder, I was glad to see that Charmian had
re-entered the cottage.
"Here," said I to myself, "here is Common-sense in the shape of a
half-witted peddling fellow, blundering into Arcadia, in the
shape of a haunted cottage, a woman, and a man. Straightway our
Pedler, being Common-sense, misjudges us--as, indeed, would every
other common-sense individual the world over; for Arcadia, being
of itself abstract and immaterial, is opposed to, and incapable
of being understood by concrete common-sense, and always will be
--and there's the rub! And yet," said I, "thanks to the Wanderer
of the Roads, who built this cottage and hanged himself here, and
thanks to a Highland Scot who performed wonderfully on the
bagpipes, there is little chance of any common-sense vagrant
venturing near Arcadia again--at least until the woman is gone,
or the man is gone, or--"
Here, going to rub my chin (being somewhat at a loss), I found
that I had been standing, all this while, the broom in one hand
and the belt in the other, and now, hearing a laugh behind me, I
turned, and saw Charmian was leaning in the open doorway watching
me.
"And so you are the--the cove--with the white hands and the
taking ways, are you, Peter?"
"Why--you were actually--listening then?"
"Why, of course I was."
"That," said I, "that was very--undignified!"
"But very--feminine, Peter!" Hereupon I threw the belt from me
one way, and the broom the other, and sitting down upon the bench
began to fill any pipe rather awkwardly, being conscious of
Charmian's mocking scrutiny.
"Poor--poor Black George!" she sighed.
"What do you mean by that?" said I quickly.
"Really I can almost understand his being angry with you."
"Why?"
"You walked with her, and talked with her, Peter--like Caesar,
'you came, you saw, you conquered'!"
Here I dragged my tinder-box from my pocket so awkwardly as to
bring the lining with it.
"And--even smiled at her, Peter--and you so rarely smile!"
Having struck flint and steel several times without success, I
thrust the tinder-box back into my pocket and fixed my gaze upon
the moon.