"Your aunt'll want to come and sit with me, after dinner; don't let her, Chris, I can't stand it.Tell her I'm asleep--the doctor'll be here directly; ask him to make up some humbug for you--it's his business."He was seized by a violent fit of pain which seemed to stab his breath away, and when it was over signed that he would be left alone.
Christian went back to her letter in the other room, and had written these words, when the gong summoned her to dinner:
'I'm like a leaf in the wind, I put out my hand to one thing, and it's seized and twisted and flung aside.I want you--I want you; if I could see you I think I should know what to do--"XXII
The rain drove with increasing fury.The night was very black.
Nicholas Treffry slept heavily.By the side of his bed the night-lamp cast on to the opposite wall a bright disc festooned by the hanging shadow of the ceiling.Christian was leaning over him.For the moment he filled all her heart, lying there, so helpless.Fearful of waking him she slipped into the sitting-room.Outside the window stood a man with his face pressed to the pane.Her heart thumped;she went up and unlatched the window.It was Harz, with the rain dripping off him.He let fall his hat and cape.
"You!" she said, touching his sleeve."You! You!"He was sodden with wet, his face drawn and tired; a dark growth of beard covered his cheeks and chin.
"Where is your uncle?" he said; "I want to see him."She put her hand up to his lips, but he caught it and covered it with kisses.
"He's asleep--ill--speak gently!"
"I came to him first," he muttered.
Christian lit the lamp; and he looked at her hungrily without a word.
"It's not possible to go on like this; I came to tell your uncle so.
He is a man.As for the other, I want to have nothing to do with him! I came back on foot across the mountains.It's not possible to go on like this, Christian."She handed him her letter.He held it to the light, clearing his brow of raindrops.When he had read to the last word he gave it her back, and whispered: "Come!"Her lips moved, but she did not speak.
"While this goes on I can't work; I can do nothing.I can't--I won't bargain with my work; if it's to be that, we had better end it.What are we waiting for? Sooner or later we must come to this.I'm sorry that he's ill, God knows! But that changes nothing.To wait is tying me hand and foot--it's making me afraid! Fear kills! It will kill you! It kills work, and I must work, I can't waste time--Iwon't! I will sooner give you up." He put his hands on her shoulders."I love you! I want you! Look in my eyes and see if you dare hold back!"Christian stood with the grip of his strong hands on her shoulders, without a movement or sign.Her face was very white.And suddenly he began to kiss that pale, still face, to kiss its eyes and lips, to kiss it from its chin up to its hair; and it stayed pale, as a white flower, beneath those kisses--as a white flower, whose stalk the fingers bend back a little.
There was a sound of knocking on the wall; Mr.Treffry called feebly.
Christian broke away from Harz.
"To-morrow!" he whispered, and picking up his hat and cloak, went out again into the rain.
XXIII
It was not till morning that Christian fell into a troubled sleep.
She dreamed that a voice was calling her, and she was filled with a helpless, dumb dream terror.
When she woke the light was streaming in; it was Sunday, and the cathedral bells were chiming.Her first thought was of Harz.One step, one moment of courage! Why had she not told her uncle? If he had only asked! But why--why should she tell him? When it was over and she was gone, he would see that all was for the best.
Her eyes fell on Greta's empty bed.She sprang up, and bending over, kissed the pillow.'She will mind at first; but she's so young!
Nobody will really miss me, except Uncle Nic!' She stood along while in the window without moving.When she was dressed she called out to her maid:
"Bring me some milk, Barbi; I'm going to church.""Ach! gnadiges Frdulein, will you no breakfast have?""No thank you, Barbi."
"Liebes Fraulein, what a beautiful morning after the rain it has become! How cool! It is for you good--for the colour in your cheeks; now they will bloom again!" and Barbi stroked her own well-coloured cheeks.
Dominique, sunning himself outside with a cloth across his arm, bowed as she passed, and smiled affectionately:
"He is better this morning, M'mselle.We march--we are getting on.
Good news will put the heart into you."
Christian thought: 'How sweet every one is to-day!'
Even the Villa seemed to greet her, with the sun aslant on it; and the trees, trembling and weeping golden tears.At the cathedral she was early for the service, but here and there were figures on their knees; the faint, sickly odour of long-burnt incense clung in the air; a priest moved silently at the far end.She knelt, and when at last she rose the service had begun.With the sound of the intoning a sense of peace came to her--the peace of resolution.For good or bad she felt that she had faced her fate.
She went out with a look of quiet serenity and walked home along the dyke.Close to Harz's studio she sat down.Now--it was her own; all that had belonged to him, that had ever had a part in him.
An old beggar, who had been watching her, came gently from behind.
"Gracious lady!" he said, peering at her eyes, "this is the lucky day for you.I have lost my luck."Christian opened her purse, there was only one coin in it, a gold piece; the beggar's eyes sparkled.
She thought suddenly: 'It's no longer mine; I must begin to be careful,' but she felt ashamed when she looked at the old man.
"I am sorry," she said; "yesterday I would have given you this, but--but now it's already given."
