Stephen was continually, through the morning, expressing his anxiety at the fatigue and discomfort she was suffering, and alluded to landing and to the change of motion and repose she would have in a carriage, wanting to assure himself more completely by pre-supposing that everything would be as he had arranged it.For a long while Maggie contented herself with assuring him that she had had a good night's rest, and that she didn't mind about being on the vessel - it was not like being on the open sea - it was only a little less pleasant than being in a boat on the Floss.
But a suppressed resolve will betray itself in the eyes, and Stephen became more and more uneasy as the day advanced, under the sense that Maggie had entirely lost her passiveness.He longed, but did not dare, to speak of their marriage - of where they would go after it, and the steps he would take to inform his father, and the rest, of what had happened.He longed to assure himself of a tacit assent from her.But each time he looked at her, he gathered a stronger dread of the new, quiet sadness with which she met his eyes.And they were more and more silent.
`Here we are in sight of Mudport,' he said, at last.`Now, dearest,'
he added, turning towards her with a look that was half beseeching, `the worst part of your fatigue is over.On the land we can command swiftness.
In another hour and a half we shall be in a chaise together - and that will seem rest to you after this.'
Maggie felt it was time to speak - it would only be unkind now to assent by silence.She spoke in the lowest tone, as he had done, but with distinct decision.
`We shall not be together - we shall have parted.'
The blood rushed to Stephen's face.
`We shall not,' he said.`I'll die first.'
It was as he had dreaded - there was a struggle coming.But neither of them dared to say another word, till the boat was let down, and they were taken to the landing place.Here there was a cluster of gazers and passengers awaiting the departure of the steamboat to St Ogg's.Maggie had a dim sense, when she had landed, and Stephen was hurrying her along on his arm, that some one had advanced towards her from that cluster as if he were coming to speak to her.But she was hurried along, and was indifferent to everything but the coming trial.
A porter guided them to the nearest inn and postinghouse, and Stephen gave the order for the chaise as they passed through the yard.Maggie took no notice of this, and only said, `Ask them to show us into a room where we can sit down.'
When they entered, Maggie did not sit down, and Stephen, whose face had a desperate determination in it, was about to ring the bell, when she said, in a firm voice, `I'm not going, we must part here.'
`Maggie,' he said, turning round towards her, and speaking in the tones of a man who feels a process of torture beginning, `Do you mean to kill me? What is the use of it now? The whole thing is done.'
`No, it is not done,' said Maggie - `Too much is done - more than we can ever remove the trace of.But I will go no farther.Don't try to prevail with me again.I couldn't choose yesterday.'
What was he to do? He dared not go near her - her anger might leap out, and make a new barrier.He walked backwards and forwards in maddening perplexity.
`Maggie,' he said, at last, pausing before her, and speaking in a tone of imploring wretchedness, `Have some pity - hear me - forgive me for what I did yesterday.- I will obey you now - I will do nothing without your full consent.But don't blight our lives for ever by a rash perversity that can answer no good purpose to any one - that can only create new evils.
Sit down, dearest - wait - think what you are going to do.Don't treat me as if you couldn't trust me.'
He had chosen the most effective appeal; but Maggie's will was fixed unswervingly on the coming wrench.She had made up her mind to suffer.
`We must not wait,' she said, in a low but distinct voice.`We must part at once.'
`We can't part, Maggie,' said Stephen, more impetuously.`I can't bear it.What is the use of inflicting that misery on me? The blow - whatever it may have been - has been struck now.Will it help any one else that you should drive me mad?'
`I will not begin any future, even for you,' said Maggie, tremulously, `with a deliberate consent to what ought not to have been.What I told you at Basset I feel now: - I would rather have died than fall into this temptation.It would have been better if we had parted for ever then.But we must part now.'
`We will not part,' Stephen burst out, instinctively placing his back against the door - forgetting everything he had said a few moments before.`I will not endure it.You'll make me desperate - I shan't know what I do.'
Maggie trembled.She felt that the parting could not be effected suddenly.
She must rely on a slower appeal to Stephen's better self - she must be prepared for a harder task than that of rushing away while resolution was fresh.She sat down.Stephen, watching her with that look of desperation which had come over him like a lurid light, approached slowly from the door, seated himself close beside her and grasped her hand.Her heart beat like the heart of a frightened bird; but this direct opposition helped her - she felt her determination growing stronger.
`Remember what you felt weeks ago,' she began, with beseeching earnestness - `remember what we both felt - that we owed ourselves to others, and must conquer every inclination which could make us false to that debt.We have failed to keep our resolutions - but the wrong remains the same.'
`No, it does not remain the same,' said Stephen.`We have proved that it was impossible to keep our resolutions.We have proved that the feeling which draws us towards each other is too strong to be overcome.
That natural law surmounts every other, - we can't help what it clashes with.'