Page 110 - The snake's pass

98 THE snake's pass.
Nature and Nature's God, and the sanctity of whose
solitude and prayer I was violating.
A tuft of heath grew just at the top ; behind this I
crouched, and parting its luxuriance looked through.
For my pains I only saw a back, and that back
presented in the most ungainly way of which graceful
woman is capable. She was seated on the ground,
not even raised upon a stone. Her knees were raised
to the level of her shoulders, and her outstretched arms
confined her legs below the knees—she was, in fact, in
much the same attitude as boys are at games of cock-
fighting. And yet there was something very touching
in the attitude—something of self-oblivion so complete
that I felt a renewed feeling of guiltiness as an intruder.
—Whether her reasons be aesthetic, moral, educational,
or disciplinary, no self-respecting woman ever sits in such
a manner when a man is by.
The song died away, and then there was a gulp and
a low suppressed moan. Her head drooped between her
knees, her shoulders shook, and I could see that she was
weeping. I wished to get away, but for a few moments
I was afraid to stir lest she should hear me. The soli-
tude, now that the vibration of her song had died out of
the air, seemed oppressive. In those few seconds a new
mood seemed to come over her. She suddenly abandoned
her dejected position, and, with the grace and agility of a
young fawn, leaped to her feet. I could see that she was
tall and exquisitely built, on the slim side—what the
French call svelte. With a grace and pathos which were