CHAPTER XVI
ALONE
She was awakened by the light of day. Kerguelen had cleared its face ofclouds and the new risen sun was on sea and mountains and land.
A whole family of rabbits were disporting themselves close to her in aclear space between the bushes and as she sat up they darted off, aglimpse of their cotton white tails shewing for a moment in the sun.
She was stiff from the damp, her clothes were wet despite the oilskincoat which she had left open, and her throat was sore, every bone achedas though she had been beaten. Her soul felt sick. It was as though thecrawling beast of the night before had crawled over it like a slug,poisoning it. The knife lay beside her; she picked it up and looked atit; there were red traces upon the hilt and the lines in the palm of herright hand were red. She rubbed it clean with the damp leaves of thebushes, then she stood up, shaking and weak, heedless of everything butthe friendly touch of the sun. Her fear was gone, but the effect of itremained in a sense of bruising and injury.
Out on the beach there was nothing, nothing but the breaking sea and theflying gulls and lines of long legged gulls stalking or standing on thesands, the 'get-away--get-away' of the kittiwakes came across the waterand the barking of brent geese from beyond the rocks of the LizardPoint. The boat lay there on its side, everything was the same.
She drew towards the caves. Nothing stirred there. Then she halted and,changing her course, came right down to the water's edge. From here shecould see the three cave mouths dark cut in the cliff. She watched themfor a moment as though expecting something to appear, then she came uptowards them, walking more cautiously as she drew near, just as she hadwalked on the plain where the death traps were.
The light shone into the cave where she had slept. She saw a naked footwith toes dug into the sand and beyond the foot a form lying on itsside.
Then she drew back with a cry; something was moving there. A rabbitdashed out of the cave and scuttered away along the cliff base. Then sheknew.
La Touche was dead, he would never crawl again. She had killed him. Shecast the knife on the sand and wiped the palm of her hand on her dresshalf unconsciously, gazing at the foot.
The terror of him had burned away anything in her mind that might havefed remorse. She had not killed him consciously. Searching her memoryshe could vaguely recollect having struck out against somethingappalling in the darkness. Now she knew and guessed all, and she couldhave hated him only that death kills hatred.
She came to the mouth of the men's cave and sat down in the sun, thesoreness of her throat, the weariness of her very bones, the feel of herhorrible wet clothes, all these filled her with a craving for the sunand its warmth and light, fierce as the craving for drink. She spreadout her hands to it, then, with shaking fingers she began to take offher clothes. They clung to her like evil things. Had this been a day ofpouring rain she might just have lain down and died.
Without getting up, and leaning on her elbow, she spread out the skirtand coat and other things on the sand beside her, then she stretched heraching limbs to the warmth.
The wind had fallen to almost a dead calm, and as she lay she saw littlerabbits stealing out to play in the sunshine on the sands. She watchedthem running in circles like things on wheels and moving by clockwork.Then she closed her eyes, but still she saw them circling, circling,circling.
Then she was in the toy department of the Magazin du Louvre and ashop-woman was shewing her toy rabbits that ran in circles, five francseach.
She awoke at noon; the sore throat was gone, her bones no longer achedand the great beach lay under the heat of noon, humming like astretched string to the touch of the sea.
Her left arm and side and thigh were scorched by the sun, but that wasnothing; the sense of illness was gone, and her mind, quite clear andrenewed, had regained its balance.
She remembered everything. La Touche was lying there in the cave, dead.The knife that had killed him she could see lying on the sand where shehad dropped it; she had killed him. All these monstrous facts seemedold, settled and done with and of little more interest than the thingsand events of a year ago.
What seemed new was the beach and its desolation--its emptiness. It wasas though a crowd of people had suddenly vanished from it; a crowd thatany moment might return. The place seemed waiting and watching.
She cast her eyes towards the rocks of the Lizard Point and then towardsthe cave mouth; then hurriedly she began to put on her clothes, now dryand warm, and having dressed she stood for a moment again looking abouther.
She could see the penguins in the distance going through their endlessevolutions, and the rhythmical sound of the sea came from near and farmixed with the chanting and crying of the gulls. At any moment Bompardmight appear labouring over those rocks, at any moment La Touche mightstep from the cave where he lay. That is what the beach told her, thoughshe knew that the forms of the two men would appear no more; that shewas here alone, utterly alone.
She took shelter from the sun in the men's cave. Bompard's tinder boxwas lying on the sand and half a box of Swedish matches. The men'sblankets were tossed in a corner and the provisions and utensils were intheir proper place. On a plate by the bags of biscuits lay the remainsof the beef from last night's supper; she took it and ate it with abiscuit, sitting on the floor of the cave and staring before her out atthe strip of beach where the boat lay on its side with the sea breakingbeyond.
On the day the men had gone off inland on their expedition she hadterrified herself with fancies of what it would be like were she to findherself here alone. Her imagination had gone far from the reality.
The thing had happened; the men were gone, gone forever, yet she was notalone. They filled the place by their absence far more than they hadfilled it by their presence.
The louder cry of a gull outside seemed hailing Bompard, the rustle of arabbit on the sands seemed the coming of La Touche, the sound of the seaspoke of them, the boat seemed only waiting for them to launch it. They,whom a million years would not bring back.
She felt neither regret for the fate of La Touche nor sorrow for thefate of Bompard, all that seemed unreal, just as the darkness and terrorof the night before seemed unreal. The real thing that touched herthrough everything was Expectancy. Expectancy, ghostly and attenuated,yet ubiquitous.
It brought her to the cave mouth before she had finished her meal. Thebeach seemed to say to her: "Come out and look!" and she came out andlooked, and the line of foam and the wheeling or stalking gulls held herfor a moment as though saying--a moment, a moment more and you will seesomething. They will come. Any moment now you may see Bompard crossingthe rocks. La Touche is not in that cave, he is here, everywhere.
She came back into the cave and sat down and finished her meal, the foodhad renewed her strength and with renewed strength her indifference toall that had happened began to pass.
She had killed La Touche. The reality of that fact was coming home toher now; she did not reason in the least on the matter saying hedeserved to be killed, that had all been settled long ago in her mind,but the fact that she had killed him was standing strongly out beforeher, also the facts that he was dead and lying quite close to her andthat though she did not mind his dead body she was beginning to dreadsomething else.
Dead, he was beginning to frighten her just as he had frightened herwhen living. Then she found that it was just the same with Bompard. Hewas frightening her too.
Suppose one or the other were to peep in at her, and nod at her--shepictured it and then crushed the picture in her mind and got up and cameout again and stood in the sun.
Then she came down to the boat and stood with her hand on the gunnel,and, for a moment as she stood thus, the terror of utter loneliness cameto her in a hundred tongues and ways, and always with reference to themen who had vanished.
It was impossible to stay here alone--alone--absolutely alone; like afrightened child her mind appealed against this terror; it climbed thevacant skies and passed over the desolate hills in sea
rch of comfort.Was there a God? To whom could she run for comfort, for escape--?
As if in answer to her wild but unspoken question came a far-off roarbrought on the wind from the great seal beach.