still with him - and the deepest moral considerations.
A song came to him, an old song. Where he,d heard it he couldn,t recall. He sang it in his head, putting its half-forgotten words in proper order, only humming under his breath.
He came out into a grassy clearing, the light from the low gray heavens increasing, and after the closeness of the woods, it seemed beautiful to see the shimmering grass in the thin rain.
He began to dance in large slow circles singing the song. His voice sounded deep and clear to him, not the voice of the old Reuben, the poor innocent and fearful Reuben, but the voice of the Reuben he was now.
,Tis the gift to be simple
,tis the gift to be free
,Tis the gift to come down
where we ought to be
And when we find ourselves
in the place just right
,Twill be in the valley of love and delight
Again, he sang it, dancing a little faster and in greater circles, his eyes closed. A light shone against his eyelids, a dim, distant light, but he took no note of it. He was dancing and singing - .
He stopped.
He,d caught a strong scent - an unexpected scent. Something sweet and mingled with an artificial perfume.
Someone was very near to him. And as he opened his eyes, he saw the light shining on the grass, and the rain sparkling gold in it.
He caught not the slightest hint of danger. This human scent was clean, innocent - fearless.
He turned and looked to his right. Be gentle as you are careful, he reminded himself. You will frighten, perhaps terrify, this blundering witness.
Yards away, on the rear porch of a small darkened house, there stood a woman looking at him. She held a lantern in her hand.
In the total darkness that had been the night, the light of the lantern expanded widely, thinly; and surely in this light she could see him.
She stood very still, apparently gazing at him across the expanse of wild soft grass, a woman with long hair parted in the middle, and large shadowy eyes. Her hair appeared to be gray but this might have been a mistake. For as well as he could see, he couldn,t quite make out the details of what he saw. She wore a long-sleeved white nightgown and she was utterly alone. No one in the dark house behind her.
Don,t be frightened!
It remained his first and only thought. How small and fragile she looked standing on the porch, a tender animal, holding the lantern up as she stared at him.
Oh, please, don,t be afraid.
He began to sing again, the same stanza, only more slowly, in the same clear deep voice as before.
He moved slowly towards her, and watched in secret astonishment as she moved along the porch and to the head of the back steps.
She wasn,t afraid. That was plain. She wasn,t afraid at all.
He moved closer and closer, and again he sang the words. He was now full in the strong light of the lantern. And yet she stood still as before.
She looked utterly curious, fascinated.
He came closer until he stood at the foot of the small steps.
Her hair was gray, actually, prematurely gray surely as her face was as smooth as a china mask. Her eyes were a large glacial blue. She was fascinated, all right, and unshakable, as if she,d lost herself utterly in gazing at him.
And what did she see? Did she see his eyes gazing at her with the same curiosity, the same fascination?
Deep in the pit of his loins the desire rose, surprising him in its intensity. He was growing hard for her. Did she see that? Could she see it? That he was naked, unable to conceal his desire, excited him further, strengthened him, emboldened him.
He,d never felt desire precisely like this desire.
He started up the steps, soon towering over her as she stepped backwards on the porch. But she hadn,t stepped back in fear. No, it seemed she was welcoming him.
What was this remarkable fearlessness, what was this seeming serenity as she looked up into his eyes? She was thirty perhaps, perhaps a little younger, small boned, with a thick well-shaped sensuous mouth and strong though small shoulders.
He reached out tentatively, allowing her plenty of time if she meant to run away. He took the lantern from her in both his paws, oblivious to the obvious heat of the thing, and set it down on a wooden bench near the wall. A door stood partially open. Beyond he