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diff --git a/old/13017-8.txt b/old/13017-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1001a84 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13017-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9935 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Five Nights, by Victoria Cross + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Five Nights + +Author: Victoria Cross + +Release Date: July 24, 2004 [eBook #13017] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIVE NIGHTS*** + + +E-text prepared by Rose Koven, Juliet Sutherland, Cathy Smith, and Project +Gutenberg Distributed Proofreaders + + + +FIVE NIGHTS + +A Novel + +By + +Victoria Cross + +1908 + + + + + + +By Victoria Cross + + Five Nights + Life's Shop Window + Anna Lombard + Six Women + Six Chapters of a Man's Life + The Woman Who Didn't + To-morrow? + Paula + A Girl of the Klondike + The Religion of Evelyn Hastings + Life of my Heart + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PART I + + The Gold Night + + I THE TAKU INLET + II THE TEA-SHOP + III IN THE WOOD + + + PART II + + The Violet Night + + IV AT THE STUDIO + V THE CALL OF THE CUCKOO + + + PART III + + The Black Night + + VI IN MAYFAIR + VII FREEDOM + + + PART IV + + The Crimson Night + + VIII LOSS + IX IN 'FRISCO + X IN THE SHADOW OF THE VOLCANO + XI THE WAY OF THE GODS + + + PART V + + The White Night + + XII THE FLAMES OF LIFE'S FURNACE + + + + +FIVE NIGHTS + + + "The nights have different colours. Some nights are black, the + nights of storm: some are electric blue, some are silver, the + moon-filled nights: some are red under the hot planet Mars or the + fierce harvest moon. Some are white, the white nights of the + Arctic winter: but this was a violet night, a hot, mysterious, + violet night of Midsummer." + + _LIFE'S SHOP WINDOW_. + + + + +INTRODUCTION + + +As one looks over any period of one's life, it appears behind one as +a shining maze of brilliant colour with spots in it here and there of +brighter or darker hue. Each spot represents a period of time when our +happiness has glowed brighter or waned; sometimes it is a day, more +often it is a night. Looking back now, over a stretch of my existence +I see many such spots gleaming brightly; they are nights of colour. +The history of many of these is too sacred to be written, but there +are Five Nights, which, though not the dearest to my memory, have yet +stamped themselves and their colour on it for ever. And the record of +these five nights is contained in the following pages. + +TREVOR LONSDALE. + + + + +PART ONE + +THE GOLD NIGHT + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE TAKU INLET + + +It was just striking three as I came up the companion-stairs on to the +deck of the Cottage City, into the clear topaz light of a June morning +in Alaska: light that had not failed through all the night, for in +this far northern latitude the sun only just dips beneath the horizon +at midnight for an hour, leaving all the earth and sky still bathed in +limpid yellow light, gently paling at that mystic time and glowing to +its full glory again as the sun rises above the rim. + +Our steamer had left the open sea and entered the Taku Inlet, and we +were steaming very slowly up it, surrounded on every side by great +glittering blocks of ice, flashing in the sunshine as they floated by +on the buoyant blue water. How blue it was, the colouring of sea and +sky! Both were so vividly blue, the note of each so deep, so intense, +one seemed almost intoxicated with colour. I stepped to the vessel's +side, then made my way forward and stood there; I, the lover of the +East, dazzled by the beauty of the North! The marvellous picture +before me was painted in but three colours, blue, gold, and white. + +The sides of the inlet were jagged lines of white, the sparkling +crystalline whiteness of eternal snow on sharp-pointed, almost +lance-like mountain peaks; the water a broad band of blue, the sky +above a canopy of blue, and there at the end of the inlet, closing it, +like some colossal monster crouched awaiting us, lay the Muir, the +huge glacier, a solid wedge of ice, white also, but a transparent +white full of blue shadows. + +Who shall describe the wonderful air and atmosphere of the North? Its +brilliancy, its delicacy, its radiant diamond-like clearness? And the +silence, the enchanted stillness of the North? Now as we crept slowly +onwards over the vivid water between the flashing icebergs, there was +no sound. Complete silence round us, on earth and sea and in the blue +vault above, impressive, glittering silence. None of the passengers +had broken their sleep to come up to the glory above them, and I stood +alone at the forward part of the vessel gliding on through this dream +of lustrous blue. Slowly we advanced towards the Muir; very slowly, +for these shining bergs carried death with them if they should graze +hard against the steamer's side, and, cautiously, steered with +infinite pains, the little boat crept on, zigzagging between them. A +frail little toy of man, it seemed, to venture here alone; small, +black, impertinent atom forcing its way so hardily into this +magnificence of colour, this silent splendour, this radiant stillness +of the North. Into this very fastness of the most gigantic forces of +Nature it had penetrated, and the sapphire sea supported it, the +transparent light illumined it, the lance-like mountains looked down +upon it, and the glistening bergs forbore to crush it, as if +disdaining to harm so fragile a thing. + +Very slowly we pushed up the inlet, approaching the shimmering +blue-green wall of ice that barred the upper end; seven hundred feet +down below the clear surface of the water descends this wall, while +three hundred feet of it rise above, forming a glorious shining +palisade across the entire width of the inlet. As the sun played on +the glittering façade, rays struck out from it as from a reflector, of +every shade of green and blue, the deepest hue of emerald mingling +with the lightest sapphire, iridescent, sparkling, wonderful. As we +crept still nearer, over the living blue of the water, the continual +fall of the icebergs from the front wall of the glacier became +apparent. At intervals of about five minutes, with a terrific crash +like thunder a great wedge of the glittering wall would fall forward +into the blue-green depths, and a cloud of snowy spray rise up +hundreds of feet into the air. The berg, thus detached, after a few +minutes would rise to the surface, glistening, dazzling, and begin +its joyous, buoyant voyage downwards to the sea. In all this brilliant +setting, with this glory of light around and the triumphal crash of +sound like the salute of cannon, amid this joyous movement and in this +blaze of colour, amid all that seemed to personify life, we were +watching the death of the glacier. + +The colossal Muir Glacier, the remains of a world the history of which +is lost in the dim twilight none can now penetrate, is dying slowly +through a million years. From the mountains, eternally snow-covered, +where its huge body, three hundred and fifty miles in extent, has +rested through the centuries, it creeps forward slowly towards the sea +to meet its doom. Formerly its lip touched the open ocean where now +the Taku inlet commences to run inland. But the icy waters, that yet +are so much warmer than itself, caressed it with eroding caresses and +melted it, and broke bergs from it and rushed inwards, following it +till they formed the Taku Inlet, and now the process still goes on, +the gigantic body moves forward inch by inch and the green waves break +the bergs from its face as the sun invades its structure; and so it +lies there, dying slowly through the countless years, glorious, +miraculous. + +The Captain had promised to approach the face of the glacier as near +as was reasonably safe and lie there at anchor for an hour, that the +passengers might land at the side of the inlet and those who wished +could explore the glacier. + +An hour! What was an hour? Those sixty golden minutes would be gone in +a flash. Yet it would be an hour of life, of deep emotion, face to +face with this monster, strange relic of a forgotten world, stretched +on its glorious death-bed. + +I was alone still. Not another passenger had yet come up, and I could +lean there undisturbed, trying to open my eyes still wider, to expand +my heart, to stretch my brain, that I might drink in more of the +inimitable grandeur and beauty round me. + +The nearer we drew to the glacier the closer packed became the water +with the floating bergs; they threatened the ship now on every side, +and so slowly did we move we hardly seemed advancing. The bergs +flashed and shone as they passed us, rayed through with jewel-like +colours, and on one gliding by far from the ship's side I saw two +seals at play. For many hundred miles past these seals were the only +living things I had seen. The forests on the shore, so thick in the +first part of the journey by the Alaskan coast, had long since given +way to barren rocks, snow-capped peaks, and ice-filled clefts. No life +seemed possible there, the wide distant blue above had shown no bird +nor shadow of bird passing. There was no voice of insect nor the least +of Nature's children here. Between the thunderous crash of the +ice-falls that seemed to shiver the golden air there was intense and +solemn stillness. + +But the seals played merrily on their floating berg as they passed me, +and I watched them long through field-glasses as the joyous, turbulent +blue waves carried them far out of my sight towards the open sea. + +The clanging of the breakfast bell made me leave my place and go down +for a hurried breakfast. I was chilled through, for the early morning +air is keen, the pure breath of infinite snowfields, and I took my +coffee gratefully amongst the crowd of hungry passengers. + +Rough miners some of them, going up to Sitka from the great Treadwell +mine at Juneau, traders on their way to Fort Wrangle, and some few +explorers. Amongst them were four men our boat had taken on board as +we passed the mouth of the Stickeen river. They had started from +Canada, lured by the light of the gold that lay under the snows of the +Klondike, intending to travel there overland. Losing their way, they +had wandered with their pack train for eighteen months in these vast +solitudes of ice and snow, groping blindly towards the coast. + +Food had failed them, their horses had died by the way from want or +fatigue. Faced by starvation, the men had eaten those of their pack +animals that had survived, then, finally, when hope had almost left +them, they came in sight of the sea. + +They were talking of this and their terrible conflict with snow-storm +and ice-floe as I joined them, of the plans for making money with +which they had started and their failure. + +I got away from them all and went back to my place as soon as I could, +and spent the rest of the morning as I had begun it, alone at the +forward end. + +There were very few passengers like myself. Not many people for mere +pleasure would take that hazardous voyage along the coast, for it was +new country and not a tenth of the sunken rocks and dangerous shoals +were yet on any chart. All the way up along that rocky and treacherous +shore we had seen the evidences of wreck and disaster everywhere. +Above the flats of shimmering water, where the gold or crimson of +sunset lay, rose constantly the tops of masts, shadowy and spectral, +telling of the sunken hull, the pale corpses beneath those gleaming +waves. Ship after ship went down out of those adventurous little +coasting vessels that plied up and down the coast trading with the +natives, and as we passed these half submerged masts, we often asked +ourselves--"Will the Cottage City be more lucky?" She was trading, +like all the other boats that go there, with the Alaskan natives, and +to go as far north as the Muir was no part of the official programme. + +But the fares of the few passengers who really wished to take all +risks and go there was a temptation and overcame the fear of the +dreaded Taku Inlet with its monstrous crashing bergs and its +possibility of sudden and furious storms. So the little steamer was +here, creeping up slowly through this vision of mystic blue towards +the glacier, which lay there white, vast, shadowy, mysterious, and my +heart beat quicker and quicker as we approached. + +I went off in one of the first boats and the moment it touched the +pebbly strand of the side of the inlet I jumped out and walked away, +eager to be alone to enjoy the glory of it all away from the rasping +voices, the worldly talk of my companions, the perpetual "littleness" +of ideas that humanity drags with it everywhere. + +As I turned from the boat the voices followed me clearly, distinctly, +in the exquisite rarefied air. + +Thin waves of laughter mingled with them from time to time, growing +faint behind me, then the distance closed up between us and I heard no +more. + +The steamer had landed about thirty passengers and crew, and they +seemed immediately lost in these vast expanses. When I had walked a +few minutes up the beach from the water's edge, I looked round and was +apparently alone. Some few black dots here and there disfiguring the +snowy slopes and glittering ice-covered rocks was all that remained of +them. In the midst of the vivid blue-green of the inlet behind me, a +little wedge of black, lay the steamer, the only reminder that I was +one also of these miserable black dots and in an hour I should be +collected and taken away as one of them. For this hour, however, I was +free and at one with the divine glory about me. + +It was just noon. The sky was of a pale and perfect blue, the air +still, of miraculous clearness and radiant with the pure light of the +North, unshaded, unsoftened by the smallest mist or cloud. The silence +was unbroken except for the regular thunder of the falling bergs, that +continued with absolute precision at the five-minute interval, and the +accompanying splash of the water. I walked on up the strand, having +the great glistening wall of the glacier's face somewhat on my left. +It was impossible to approach it on land, as the fervid green water +lay deep all about its base. It was only at the side of the inlet that +little beaches had been formed, and on one of these I stood. The +steamer could not get nearer the glacier for fear of the floating +bergs, and a small boat could only approach with deadliest peril at +the risk of being crushed beneath the falling ice or swamped by the +wild division and upheaval of the water that it caused. + +But here, on the beach, was a world of enchantment second only in +beauty to the glacier itself, for many of the bergs had been stranded +there by the playful tides. They stood there now towering up in a +thousand different forms, hundreds of feet above one's head, drawing +all the light of the sunbeams into their glittering recesses, turning +them there into violet, purple, and crimson hues, mauve, saffron, and +emerald, blood-red and topaz, and then throwing them out in a million +lance-like rays of colour, dazzling and blinding the vision. Like the +most wonderful rainbows turned into solid masses they stood there, or +like the jewels, rubies, sapphires, and diamonds broken from some +giant's crown and scattered recklessly along the strand. + +I went up to them and walked beneath an ice arch that glowed rose +without as the sun touched it and deepest violet within. Then on, into +a cave beyond where the last chamber was coldest white but the outer +rim seemed hung with blood-red fire and the middle wall glowed deepest +emerald. On, on from one to another, each like a perfect dream of +exquisite colour: sunrise and sunset, and all the hues of earth that +we ever see were blended together in those glorious bergs. + +What a phantasmagoria of colour, what a wonderful vision! Wrapped up +in the delight of it, I passed on through some and round others, +pursuing my way up the beach, and ascended slowly the rocks, the huge +morain at the side of the glacier, while impressively from the inlet +came unvaryingly the thunder of the five-minute guns, hastening my +steps, dogging them, as it were, with warning of the passing time. + +After a heavy climb taken too quickly, when I put my foot first on the +clear blue-green surface of the glacier, its immensity, its grandeur +came home to me. The idea of the huge size of it seems to take the +human mind in a curious grip and appal it. Three hundred and fifty +square miles of ice stretched round me, white, unbroken, except here +and there where gigantic fissures and ravines opened in its surface; +ravines where deep blue-green colour glowed in the sides, as if it +were the blue-green blood of the glacier. A tiny wind from the north, +keen as a knife blade, blew in my face as I stood there, out of the +calm blue sky, and seemed to whisper to me of the terrifying nights of +storm, of the deadly wind before which all life goes down like a +straw, that raged here in the winter. On every side, as far as the +eyes could reach, wide white plains of undulating ice and snow, broken +here and there by patches of barren rock, that seemed now by some +optical delusion, against the glaring white, to be of the brightest +mauve and violet tints. Only that; ice and snow and rock for mile upon +mile, until the tale of three hundred and fifty is told. No track or +trace of bird, no sweet companionship of little furred, four-footed +things, no blade of grass or smallest plant or flower, no sound but +the roar of the riven ice, the groans of the dying glacier. + +I walked on slowly, looking inland towards the white fields +stretching away endlessly into the distance till the blue of the sky +seems to come down and mingle with the blue shadows in the snow. +Beneath my feet glimmered sometimes the green glass-like surface of +smooth ice, at others the thin crisp covering of drifted snow crackled +at every step. Sometimes the crevasses were so narrow one could easily +walk over them, others yawned widely, many yards across, necessitating +a long detour to pass round them. + +Looking back from the side of one of them as I walked up it to find +the narrowest part, I saw the objectionable black dots had swarmed up +on to the edge of the glacier and through the thin, glittering air +their voices and laughter at intervals came faintly to me. I sprang +over the crevasse and walked on quickly to a point where the fissures +grew thick about my feet and the green-blue blood of the glacier +glowed in them on every side. + +I was looking now down the inlet and was near enough to the face of +the glacier to hear, though dulled by distance, the crash of the +falling bergs into the foaming water beneath. I could not approach +nearer for crevasses hemmed me in; the ice showed itself clear of snow +and was so slippery I could hardly stand. One false step now, one +small slip and I should disappear down one of these green rents, +swallowed up in between those gleaming crystal sides to remain one +with the glacier for all time. My idea had been to approach the face +of the glacier from the top, but I found this to be as impossible, by +reason of the crevasses, as it had been to approach it from the sea on +account of the falling bergs. + +Sacred, inaccessible, guarded above and below, the great gleaming wall +stood there through the centuries, defying the puny curiosity, the +feeble efforts of man to even gaze upon it and marvel over it, except +from a long distance. I would have given all I had to have been able +to advance to the very edge and, kneeling there, look over it down +those majestic palisades of white flushed through with green, throwing +back to the sun, their destroyer and conqueror, a thousand flashing +rays as if in defiance of the slow death being dealt out to them, like +one who dies brandishing to the last his sword in the face of his +enemy. I longed to look over, down the glimmering wall, to the +swelling rush of the green waters as they leapt up rejoicing to +receive the colossal diamond-like berg as it crashed down to them, to +see them seethe over it and fling their spray high up in the sunshine +in mocking revelry; but it was impossible. The fissures in the ice +multiplied themselves as one neared the edge and now were spread round +my feet in a perfect network, like the meshes of a snare. It was +impossible to go forward, and I was unwilling to go back. I stood +motionless on a little tongue of polished ice between two blue-green +chasms, so deep that they seemed riven down to the very heart of the +glacier; stood there, drinking in the keen gold air and the beauty of +the blue arch above, of the boundless spaces of glittering white round +me, of the narrow green inlet so far below from which echoed the +reverberating roar of the falling ice. + +I was debating with myself, should I stay here alone for a time, +letting the steamer go, after having stored some provisions for me on +the shore, and call again for me a few weeks later, in any case before +the short summer of these northern latitudes was over, and winter +closed the inlet? + +To stay here alone, the one single human being, in a thousand miles of +space, and not only the one human being, but the one _life_, with no +companionship of animal, bird, or insect, that would be an experience +of solitude indeed! + +The idea attracted me; all day and all night to hear nothing but that +thunderous roar, and see nothing but the shining sea, the gleaming +ice-fields, and the glittering bergs, to be alone with Nature, to see +her, as it were, intimately in her awful beauty, with breast and brow +unveiled--and, perhaps, have death as one's reward! + +There was fascination in the thought. + +What ideas would come to one as one watched the little steamer, the +only link that held one still bound to the world of men, weigh anchor +and steam slowly down the green inlet, departing and leaving one +behind it, as one watched it growing smaller, dwindling ever, till it +was a mere speck, and then saw it vanish, leaving the green riband of +water unbroken save for the passing bergs? How one would realise +solitude when the boat had absolutely disappeared, and how that +solitude would thrill through and through one's blood as the long +light night rolled by and dawn and day succeeded with their unvarying +march of silent glittering hours! + +And if death came on the wings of a storm such as rises suddenly in +these regions and piled high the snow over the camp, freezing the +inmate, or if it came by slow starvation, the steamer having been lost +on that dangerous rocky coast and none other having come in time, how +would death seem to one here, already so far removed from men and all +desire and lust of the world, here, where already all earthly things +had almost ceased to be and one's spirit had merged into the Infinite? + +Death would seem to one in different guise from when he comes to us in +the midst of the delights of the world, with the baubles of life +around us, or in the stress of the battle-field in the moment of +victory, surrounded by our comrades. + +Death here would come but as the crown, the climax to the solitude, +the detachment, the isolation, would seem but as the laying down the +head on the breast of Nature, becoming one with her immensity, her +grandeur. + +For some minutes I was keenly tempted to stay, the idea held my mind +and fascinated it, but with the vision of death came the recoil from +it born from the remembrance of my art. The same recoil that had saved +me many times before, for youth is usually greatly inclined to +suicide, either directly or indirectly in the dangers it courts. But +in an artist this is strangely balanced by his love for his work. When +he has ceased to wish for life or heed it for himself he still feels +instinctive revolt against extinguishing that diviner spark than life +itself, his genius, lent him from the celestial fire. + +The thought of my work dispelled the enchanted dream into which I had +fallen. Instinctively I turned and very slowly began to retrace my +steps amongst the yawning pitfalls. As I did so I heard a hoarse hoot +from the steamer lying below, to tell me it was about to leave, +another and another resounded dully from it, warning me to hasten my +return. + +I made my way back to the shore where the boat and the impatient +sailors awaited me. I took my seat in it, turning my eyes to the +glistening, glimmering white palisade rising over the sapphire sea. + +When we had reached the steamer and its head was turned round I stood +at the stern and watched that palisade for long, as it receded and +receded. At last the blue distance swallowed it up. I could see no +more than a silvery line dividing the blues of meeting sea and sky. +Then I went down to my cabin and locked the door and lay down on my +berth in the quiet, trying to live over again that one hour of close +contact with the beauty of the North. + +After dinner that night I wrote a long letter to my cousin Viola about +the beauty of the Muir. She would understand, I knew. What I thought +she would feel, for our brains were cast in the same mould. The letter +finished, it was still too early to go to bed; so I picked up a +curious book called "Life's Shop Window" which I had been reading the +previous night, and read this passage which had struck me before, over +again: + +"So, as we look into our future, we see ourselves beloved and wealthy; +victorious, famous, and free to wander through the sweetest paths of +the world, passing through a thousand scenes, sometimes loving, +sometimes warring, tasting and drinking of everything sweet and +stimulating, knowing all things, enjoying all in turn; but this is the +life of a God, not a man. And it is perhaps the God in us which so +savagely demands the life of a God." + +"But it is not granted to us." + +Yet this was the life I was trying to lead, and to some extent I +succeeded. Change, change, it is the life of life, perhaps especially +to the artist. + +And I was an artist now, thanks to the decision of the Royal Academy +last year to accept the worst picture I had submitted to them for four +years. Ever since my fingers could clasp round anything at all they +had loved to hold a brush; for years in my teens I had studied +painting under the best teachers of technique in Italy. For two or +three years I had done really good work, with the divine afflatus +thrilling through every vein. And last year I had painted rather a +commonplace picture and it had been hung on the line in the Academy, +and so my friends all said I really was an artist now, and I modestly +accepted the style and title, with outward diffidence. + +How little any of them guessed, as they congratulated me, of the wild +rapture of feeling, of intense gratitude with which I had listened to +the Divine whisper that had come to my ears as a boy of seventeen +sitting in a small bare bedroom, on the floor with the sheet of paper +before me on which I had drawn a woman's head. As I looked at it, I +knew suddenly my power, and the Voice that is above all others said +within me: "_I_ have made you an artist. None can undo or dispute MY +work." + +From that moment I cared for neither praise nor blame. The opinion of +men affected me not at all. My gift was mine, and I knew it. I held it +straight from the Divine hands. I had the Divine promise with me for +as long as I should live on this earth. + +And I was filled with a boundless delight in life and my own powers. + +When I showed my original pictures all painted under inspiration to my +father, he carefully put on his pince-nez and studied them very +closely. After that he said he must reserve his judgment. When they +went to the Academy and were promptly refused, he drew a long face and +said I had better have gone into the Indian Civil Service as he +wished. Subsequently, when I had sold them all, and not one for less +than a thousand guineas, he began to enter upon a placid state of +contentment with me which induced him to say to other captious +relations--"Let the boy alone, he will be an artist some day." At +which I used to laugh inwardly and go away to my studio to listen to +the Divine voice dictating fresh pictures to me. For five years in +Italy I had studied closely and worked unremittingly, keeping myself +for my art alone and existing only in it. My teachers had called me +industrious. Another phrase which always must make an artist laugh +when applied to his art. + +To those who know the wild pleasure, the almost mad joy of exercising +a really natural gift, it sounds as funny as to talk of a drunkard +industriously getting drunk. + +However, this by the way. The world is the world, and artists are +artists; the artist may understand the world, but the world can never +understand the artist. + +I was happy, life passed like a golden dream till I was twenty-two, +and my father was satisfied that I was an "industrious" student. + +From twenty-two till now, when I was twenty-eight, life had opened out +into fuller colour still. My art remained the life of the soul, of all +that was best in me, but the brain and the senses had come forward, +demanding their share of recognition, too, and out of the many +coloured strands of which we can weave our web of life, I had chosen +that which gleams the next brightest to art, the strand of passion, +and woven much with that. + +I had travelled, passing from country to country, city to city, +finding love and inspiration everywhere, for the world is full of both +for those who desire and look for them, and now I had come on this +coasting trip along the shores of Alaska in the same spirit, looking +for pictures in the golden atmosphere, for joy in the golden days and +nights. + +My sketch-book was full of ideas and jottings, and I looked forward +much to the landing at Sitka where I hoped to find new and good +material. The hopeless ugliness of the Alaskan natives had so far +appalled me. An artist chiefly of the face and figure, as I was, could +not hope to find a model amongst them. As our steamer had come up the +coast I had looked in vain for even a decent-sized woman or child +amongst them. They seem a race without a single beauty, possessing +neither stature, nor colour, nor length of hair, nor even plump +shapeliness. Undersized, leather-skinned, small-eyed, thin, and +wizened, they never seem to be young. They seem to start middle-aged +and go on growing older. + +No, I had really had no luck at present on my Alaskan tour, but I was +naturally sanguine and hoped still something from Sitka. + +Most capitals give you something if you visit them, and Sitka was the +capital of Alaska. + +As I lay in my berth that night, made wakeful by the bright light, I +was thinking over past incidents in my life and all the Minnies and +Marys that had been connected with them. They seemed all to have been +Mary or Minnie with Marias in Italy and France. I fell asleep at last, +hoping whatever Fate had in store for me at Sitka, it wouldn't be a +Mary or a Minnie, but some new name embodying a new idea. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE TEA-SHOP + + +When we landed at Sitka I went ashore with a fellow passenger. He was +a clever man, and had made trips up there already for the sake of +taking photographs of the people and the scenery; he knew Sitka well +and came up to me just before we arrived there with the remark: + +"If you come with me I'll take you to have tea with the prettiest girl +you've ever seen." + +This certainly seemed an invitation to accept, and I did so on the +spot. + +"She really is," he continued, observing my sceptically raised +eyebrows, "wonderfully pretty. She keeps a tea-shop and she is +Chinese." With that he bolted into his own cabin, which was next mine, +and as I heard him laughing, I concluded he was joking and thought no +more about it. However, as the ship glided up over flat sheets of +golden water to the landing-stage, he joined me again, and together we +stood looking up the principal street of Sitka which runs down to meet +the little quay. + +It was just four in the afternoon, and everything was vivid living +gold, as the floods of yellow sunshine filled all the shining air. The +green copper dome of the church alone stood out a soft spot of +delicate colour in the dazzling burnished haze. + +At the sides of the street sat and crouched the small squat figures of +the Alaskan Indians, each with a mat before it on which the owner had +set out his little store of wares--bottles of various-coloured sands, +reindeer slippers beautifully embroidered in blue beads, carved walrus +teeth. + +We stepped on the shore and the Indians looked up at us with quaint +brown questioning eyes, like their own seals. + +They did not ask you to buy, but watched you silently. + +"Come along," said my friend, "we'll go up and get tea before there's +a crowd." + +After about five minutes' walk, while I was gazing about interested in +this quaint little capital, my companion suddenly exclaimed: + +"In here," and turned through an opening at the corner of a square +enclosure on our right hand. I followed, and saw we had entered a +little square court or compound, similar to those with which the +poorer classes in any Eastern community surround their huts. + +The floor was dried and hardened mud, the walls about seven feet high, +and numerous small tables laid for tea stood round them. + +My companion did not pause here, however, but went straight through in +at the low house door, and we found ourselves in a very small, dark +passage, hung with red and with red cloths dangling from the ceiling, +that swept our heads as we came in. + +It seemed quite dark inside, coming from the fierce gold light of the +streets, but there was a dim little lamp in Eastern glass of many +colours swinging somewhere at the farther end, and we found our way +down to a low door in the side of the passage. This brought us into a +small square room which gave the impression of being sunk below the +level of the street. There were diminutive windows in the outer wall, +but they were close to the low ceiling and though the glorious light +from without tried hard to come in, it was successfully obstructed by +little rush blinds of red and green. The rushes were placed vertically +side by side and fastened together with string and painted in bright +tints. The breeze from the sea came through them and sang a low song +of its own. The walls were hung with red stuff curtains, over which +ramped wonderful Chinese dragons in green; the floor was spread with +something soft, on which the feet made no sound; in the corners of the +room stood some little tables. + +To the farthest of these, under the rush-covered windows, we made our +way and sat down on some very ordinary American chairs, a hideous note +in the quaint surrounding, introduced as a concession, no doubt, to +Western taste. + +"I rather like this, Morley," I said as I took my seat and looked +round. + +"Thought you would," he returned, and pressed his hand on a tiny +bronze figure standing on the table. At the touch of his finger the +head of the figure disappeared between its shoulders, and then sprung +up again, producing a harsh clanging sound of a gong. + +Hardly a moment later the red curtains that hung over the doorway +parted, and a figure came into the room. + +Such a sweet figure, the very spirit of poetic girlhood seemed +incarnate before us. + +In appearance she was a Chinese maiden of seventeen or eighteen years; +seventeen or eighteen according to our standard of looks, doubtless +she was in reality younger. + +The face was wonderfully beautiful, a very rounded oval and of the +most perfect creamy tint, the nose, straight and fine, was rather +long, the upper lip short, and the mouth very small, soft, and +full-lipped. The eyes inclined a little to the Chinese shape, but were +large, wide, and well-opened and brimming to the lids with +extraordinary light and fire; delicately narrow black eyebrows arched +above on the low satiny forehead, from which was brushed upwards a +mass of shining black hair piled on the top of the small head and +apparently secured there by two weighty gold pins thrust through from +side to side. + +The last touch of beauty, if any were needed, was added by the +earrings of turquoise-blue stone that swung against the ivory-tinted +softness of the full young throat. + +Those blue stones against the creamy neck! For years afterwards how I +could see them again in the darkness that lies behind closed lids! How +often I was back in the crimson darkness of the tiny chamber with the +sea song of the Alaskan waves coming through the painted rushes above +my head! + +She was very simply dressed, yet so fitly to her own beauty. + +A straight pale blue jacket covered her shoulders and opened on the +breast over a white muslin vest. Her skirts hung like the full +trousers of Persian women, and were a deep yellow in colour. Her feet +were bare, and shone white on the red floor. + +"How do you do, Suzee?" said Morley. + +"How do you do, Mister Morlee," returned the girl lightly, smiling and +showing pretty little teeth as she did so. + +"You two gentlemen want some tea? Very good. I make it." + +She glided to the curtains and disappeared as rapidly and noiselessly +as she had entered. + +I turned to Morley with enthusiasm. + +"She's lovely, perfect." + +"Isn't she just? I knew you'd say so. But she's married, old man, so +don't you think you can go playing any tricks with her." + +"Married?" I gasped incredulously, "that child? Impossible! You're +joking." + +"I'm not, 'pon my honour. She has a great roaring brute of a baby, +too." + +"How horrible!" I exclaimed. "Yes, horrible. You've spoiled it all. It +seems a sacrilege." + +"Fiddlesticks," returned my practical friend. "That's the sort that +does these things, isn't it? Would you expect her to turn into an old +maid?" + +"No, but so young!" I faltered. In reality it was a shock to me. To +have such an exquisite sight float before one for a moment, and then +to be roughly dragged down to earth from the exaltation it had caused, +hurt and bruised me. + +The next moment she was back again, bearing a tray in her hands which +she set on our table, and deftly arranged the steaming teapot and tiny +cups before us. + +As she bent near us over the little table a strange sensation of +delight came over me, a faint scent of roses reached me from the +little buds behind her ear. The blue stones in the long gold earrings +swung against her neck of cream as she set out the tea things. + +"How is your boy, Suzee?" asked Morley with a tone of mischief in his +voice. + +"He is very well, thank you, Mister Morlee." + +"I should like to see him. Will you bring him in?" he continued, +commencing to pour out the tea. + +"Yes; he is asleep now, but I will wake him up," she returned +nonchalantly, and, in spite of a protestation from me, she went out to +do so. + +After a minute we heard loud screams from across the passage and +presently Suzee reappeared dragging (I can use no other phrase) in her +arms an enormous baby. Its face was red, and it was roaring lustily. +The girl-mother did not seem disturbed in the least by its cries, but +staggered slowly over to us, clasping the child awkwardly round the +waist and holding it flat against her own body. + +It seemed very large, out of all proportion to the small and +exquisitely dainty mother. She was short and small, and the child +really, as I looked at it, seemed to be quite half the length of her +own body. + +"What a big boy he is," remarked Morley. + +"Yes, isn't he?" said the mother proudly. + +The baby roared its loudest, tears streamed down its scarlet face, and +it dug its clenched knuckles furiously into its eyes. + +"Surely it's in pain," I suggested. + +"Oh, he always cries when he is woken up," returned the mother +tranquilly. She did not seem to take the least notice of the child's +bellowing. She might have been deaf for all the effect it had upon +her. She stood there placidly holding it, though it seemed very heavy +for her, while the child screamed itself purple. She began a +conversation with Morley just precisely as if the child were +non-existent. + +I never saw such a picture, and it struck me suddenly I should like to +paint it, just as it was there, and call the thing "Maternity." + +But no. What would be the good? No one, certainly not the British +public, would ever believe its truth. + +They would think it a joke, and a grotesque one at that. "Beauty and +the Beast" would do for a name, I mused, or "Fact and Fancy." + +Nothing could be more delicately soul-absorbingly beautiful than the +mother; nothing so brutally hideous as the child. + +Suzee had sat down on the floor now, and the baby, still roaring, had +rolled on to its face on the ground beside her. Still she took not the +smallest notice of it; she laid one shapely hand on the small of its +back, as if to make sure it was there, and continued her conversation +tranquilly with Morley. How she could hear what he said I could not +tell. I could hear nothing but the appalling row the child made. + +"Do take it away," I said after a few moments more, in an interval of +yells, during which the baby rolled, apparently in the last stages of +suffocation, on the floor. "I can't stand that noise." + +"Ah!" said Suzee meditatively, lifting her glorious almond eyes to +mine, "you do not like my boy-baby?" + +"I do not like the noise he makes," I said evasively, "and I don't +think he can be well, either." + +"Oh yes, he is quite well," she returned composedly; "but I will take +him away." + +So saying, she began to haul at the loose things about the child's +waist, as a tired gardener hauls at a sack of potatoes prior to +lifting it up. + +I thought really she would get the child into her arms head downwards, +so carelessly did she seem to manage it, and as she rose and carried +it to the door it seemed as if the awkward weight of it must strain +her own slight body. + +When the curtain closed behind her and the screams got faint in the +distance as the unhappy child was hauled to a back room, I drew a +breath of relief and began to drink my tea, which really hitherto I +had been too nervous to do. Morley chuckled and remarked: + +"Good for you to be disillusioned." + +"I'm not in the least, with _her_. She is a divine piece of physical +beauty. I wish I could get her on my canvas." + +"You won't be able to; that old curmudgeon of a husband of hers will +see to that." + +"I should think he has the devil of a temper, judging by his +offspring," I answered. "She looks sweet enough." + +Morley nodded, and we finished our tea in silence. Suzee came back +presently with cigarettes for us and sat down on the floor herself, +rolling one up between supple fingers. She had an air of extraordinary +unruffled placidity. The dragging about of the child had not disturbed +her dress nor heated her face. In cool, tranquil, placid beauty she +sat and rolled cigarettes while the child's cries dimly echoed in the +distance. + +"Where's the boss, Suzee?" questioned Morley presently. + +"He has gone down to Fort Wrangle for two days," she returned, and my +spirits leapt up at her words. Her husband away for two days! Perhaps +there was a chance for a picture.... + +My eyes swept over her seated on the floor in front of us. What +exquisite supple lines! What sweet little dainty curves showed beneath +the blue silk jacket and sleeve! What a glory of light and passionate +expression in the liquid dark eyes when she raised them to us! + +After a few minutes Morley got up, and I saw him laying down on the +table the money for our tea. I added my share, and Morley remarked, + +"We'd better go and walk about before dinner, hadn't we? You'd like a +look round?" + +I was gazing at Suzee. + +"Do you have any time to yourself?" I asked her. "Later in the evening +perhaps when you could come for a walk with me." + +Suzee looked up. There was surprise in those wonderful eyes, but I +thought I saw pleasure too. + +"At six," she said. "I close the restaurant for a short time, but I +don't walk, I smoke and go to sleep. But I will come with you if it is +not too far," she added as an after-thought. + +Morley gave a whistle, indicative of surprise and disapproval, but I +answered composedly. + +"Very well, I shall come here at six; so don't be asleep and fail to +let me in!" + +Suzee laughed and shook her head, and we picked up our hats and went +out of the little room into the passage. In the outer court, as we +passed through, we saw most of the tables occupied, and an elderly +woman serving. + +"We had the best of it," I remarked. + +"Yes, rather. But you are going ahead with that girl. Do be careful or +you'll have the old terror of a husband down on you." + +"You introduced me," I returned laughing. "You have all the +responsibility." + +"You know dinner's at six on this unearthly boat. Aren't you going to +get any dinner to-night?" + +"I'm not very particular about it. I shall pick up something. I +thought six when all the men would be back on board would be her free +time." + +"But what are you going to do with her?" + +"Get her to pose for me, if she will." + +"Anything else?" + +"One never knows in life," I answered smiling. + +Morley regarded me thoughtfully. + +"You artists do manage to have a good time." + +"You could have just the same if you chose," I said. + +"No, I don't think I could somehow," he answered slowly. "I am not so +devilishly good-looking as you are, for one thing." + +"Oh, I don't know," I replied; "and does that make much difference +with women, do you think? Isn't it rather a passionate responsiveness, +a go-aheadness, that they like?" + +"Yes, I think it is, but then that's it, you've got that. I don't +think I have. I don't seem to want the things, to see anything in +them, as you do." + +I laughed outright. We were walking slowly down one of the gold, +light-filled streets towards the church now, and everything about us +seemed vibrating in the dazzling heat. + +"If you don't want them I should think it's all right." I said. + +"No, it isn't," returned my companion gravely. "You want a thing very +much and you get it, and have no end of fun. I don't want it and don't +get it, and don't have the fun. So it makes life very dull." + +"Well, I _am_ very jolly," I admitted contentedly. "I think really, +artists--people with the artist's brain--do enjoy everything +tremendously. They have such a much wider field of desires, as you +say; and fewer limitations. They 'weave the web Desire,' as Swinburne +says, 'to snare the bird Delight.'" + +"They get into a mess sometimes," said Morley sulkily; "as you will +with that girl if you don't look out. Here we are at the church. +There's a very fine picture inside; you'd like to see it, I expect." + +We turned into the church and rested on the chairs for a few minutes, +enjoying the cool dark interior. + +At six o'clock exactly I was in the little mud-yard again, before the +tea-shop; having sent Morley off to his dinner on board. I felt +elated: all my pulses were beating merrily. I was keenly alive. Morley +was right in what he said. An artist is Nature's pet, and she has +mixed all his blood with joy. Natural, instinctive joy, swamped +occasionally by melancholy, but always there surging up anew. Joy in +himself--joy in his powers--joy in life. + +I knocked as arranged, and Suzee herself let me in. She had been +burning spice, apparently, before one of the idols that stood in each +corner of the tea-shop; for the whole place smelt of it. + +"What have you been doing?" I said. "Holding service here?" + +"Only burning spice-spills to chase away the evil spirits," replied +Suzee. + +"Are there any here?" I inquired. + +"They always come in with the white foreign devils," she returned with +engaging frankness. + +I laughed. + +"Well, Suzee, you are unkind," I expostulated. "Is that how you think +of me?" + +She looked up with a calm smile. + +"The devil is always welcomed by a woman," she answered sweetly--her +eyes were black lakes with fire moving in their depths--"that is one +of our proverbs. It is quite true." + +The lips curled and the creamy satin of the cheeks dimpled and the +blue earrings shook against her neck. + +"What lovely earrings," I said, smiling down upon her, and put up my +hand gently to touch one. She did not draw back nor seem to resent my +action. + +"You think them pretty? I have others upstairs. Will you come up and +see my jewellery?" + +I assented with the greatest willingness, and we went on down the +passage and then up the narrow, steep flight of stairs at the end. + +"Don't wake up your child," I said in sudden horror, as we reached the +small square landing above of slender rickety uncovered boards. + +"Oh, he never wakes till one pulls him up," she answered tranquilly, +and led the way into a little chamber. Did she sleep here? I wondered. +There was no bed, but a loose heap of red rugs in one corner. The +windows were mere narrow horizontal slits close to the ceiling. In the +centre, blocking up all the space, stood a high narrow chest. It +looked very old, of blackened wood and antique shape. I had never seen +such a thing. On the top of this, which nearly came to her chin, she +eagerly spread out heaps of little paper parcels she took from one of +the drawers. + +"Have you any earrings just like those you are wearing?" I asked her. +If she had, I would buy them if I could for my cousin Viola, I +thought. Viola was excessively fair, and those blue stones would be +enchanting against her blonde hair. + +"You want to buy them?" she said quickly. "I have a pair here just +like, only green. Buy those." + +"No," I said. "It is the colour I like. Do you want to sell these blue +ones you are wearing?" + +"No," she said quickly; "not these," and ran to a small mirror on the +wall and looked in hastily, fearfully, as if she thought that by +wishing for them I could charm them away from her out of her very +ears. + +That she appreciated so well the effect of the colour harmony between +the blue stones and her own cream-hued skin, and the value of it in +setting off her beauty, pleased me. It seemed to augur well for her +artistic sense. + +"May I sit down here?" I asked her, going to the pile of scarlet rugs +and cushions in the corner. + +"Oh yes, Meester Treevor, sit down," and she came hastily forward to +rearrange them for me with Oriental politeness. I sat down, drawing up +my legs as I best could, and pointed to a place beside me. + +"Come and sit down, Suzee," I said; "I have something to show you +now." + +She came and sat beside me, but not very close, with her knees raised +and her smooth lissom little hands clasped round them. Her almond eyes +grew almost round with curiosity. I had brought with me a small +portfolio of some of my sketches with the object of introducing the +subject of her posing for me. I opened it and drew out the topmost +sketch. It was the figure of a young Italian girl lying on a green +bank beneath some vines. She was not wholly undraped, but most of her +attire was on the bank beside her, and the rest was of a transparent +gauzy nature suited to the heat suggested in the sunlit picture. + +The moment Suzee's eyes fell upon it she gave a shriek of dismay and +covered her face with her hands. Over any portion I could still see +of it spread the Eastern's equivalent of a blush: a sort of dull heavy +red that seems to thicken the tissues. + +"What is the matter?" I asked, surveying her in surprise. There was +nothing in the picture which would cause the least embarrassment to +any English girl. + +"Oh, Treevor, it is dreadful to look at things like that," she +exclaimed, moving her fingers before her face and looking at me with +one eye through them. Then she made some rapid passes over her head, +as if to ward off the evil spirits I had conjured up. + +I laughed. + +"You may think so, Suzee," I said; "but in our country, and many +others, these 'things,' as you call them, are not only very much +looked at, but also admired, and bought and sold for great sums. What +do you see so very bad in it?" + +Suzee ventured to peer through her fingers with both eyes at the +fearful object. + +"Dreadful!" she exclaimed again, quickly shutting her fingers. "It is +a very bad woman, is it not?" + +"No," I said, somewhat nettled; "certainly not. This was quite a +respectable girl. I have quantities of these portraits and sketches. +Look here," and I opened the portfolio and spread out several pictures +on the rug. + +Suzee drew herself together, tightly pursed up her and looked down at +them with alarm,--as if I had let loose a number of snakes. + +"They are very, very wicked things," she said, primly as a dissenting +minister's wife; and lowered her eyelids till the lashes lay like +black silk on the cheeks. + +I gathered the offending sketches together and pushed them back under +cover. + +"I wanted you to pose for me," I said, "that I might have your +picture, too; but I expect you won't do so for me?" + +"I! I!" said Suzee, with virtuous indignation, "be put on paper like +that? I would die first." Her face had thickened all over as the blood +went into it. Her eyes looked stormy, alluring. + +I leant towards her suddenly as we sat side by side, put my arms round +her waist, drew her to me, and pressed my lips on the ridiculous +little screwed-up mouth, with a sudden access of passion that left her +breathless. + +"You are a horrid little humbug, and goose, and prude," I said, +laughing, as I released her. "What do you think of letting me kiss you +like that, then? Is that wrong?" + +Suzee sighed heavily, swaying her pliable body only a very little way +from me. + +"It may be--a little" she admitted; "but it's not like the pictures." + +"Oh! It's not so bad--not so wicked?" I asked mockingly. + +"Oh no, not nearly," she returned decisively. + +"Well," I answered, "many people would think it much worse. Those +girls who have let me draw them would not let me kiss them--some of +them," I added. "So, you see, it's a matter of opinion and idea. Now, +will you say why the picture is so much worse than a kiss?" + +"A kiss," murmured Suzee, "is just between two people. It is done, and +no one knows. It is gone." She spread out her hands and waved them in +the air with an expressive gesture. "Those things remain a monument of +shame for ever and ever." + +I laughed. I was beginning to see there was not much chance of a +picture, but other prospects seemed fair. In life one must always take +exactly what it offers, and neither refuse its goods nor ask for more, +either in addition or exchange. Sitka would give me something, but +perhaps not a picture as I had hoped. + +I looked at her in silence for some seconds, musing on her curious +beauty. + +"I shall call you 'Sitkar-i-buccheesh,'" I said after a minute. + +Suzee looked frightened and made a rapid pass over her head. + +"What is that?" she asked. "It sounds a devil's name." + +"It only means the gift of Sitka," I answered. "This city has given +you to me, has it not? or it will," I added in a lower tone. + +I put my arm round her again, and she leant towards me as a flower +swayed by the breeze, her head drooped and rested against my shoulder. + +"If it were the name of a devil," I said laughing, "it would suit you. +I believe you are an awful little devil." + +"All women are devils," returned Suzee placidly. + +I did not answer, but Viola's face swam suddenly before my vision--a +face all white and gold and rose and with eyes of celestial blue. + +"What would your husband say to all this?" I asked jestingly. + +"He will never know. I tell him quite different. He believes +everything I say." + +Involuntarily I felt a little chill of disgust pass through me. Deceit +of any kind specially repels me, and deceit towards some one trusting, +confident, is the worst of all. + +Perhaps she read my thoughts instinctively, for she said next, in a +pleading note, to enlist my sympathies: + +"He is very, very cruel, he beats me all the time." + +I looked down at her as she lay in the cradle of my arm, a little +sceptical. + +From what I knew of the Chinese character it did not seem at all +likely that Hop Lee did beat his wife; moreover, the delicate, +fragile, untouched beauty of the girl did not allow one to imagine she +had suffered, or could suffer much violence. + +Again she seemed to feel my doubt of her, for she pushed up suddenly +her sleeve with some trouble from one velvet-skinned arm and pushed it +up before my eyes. There was a deep dull crimson mark upon it the size +of a half-crown. + +"Unbeliever! Look at this bruise." + +I looked at it, then at her steadily. + +"Suzee, did your husband make that bruise?" + +"Yes. He pinched me so hard in a rage with me," she said a little +sulkily. + +"Give me your arm," I said. + +She held it out reluctantly. I looked at the bruise, then I rolled the +sleeve back a little farther, and in it found a heavy gold bangle with +a boss on one side corresponding with the size of the mark on the +flesh. + +"I think it is the gold bracelet your kind old husband gave you that +you have pressed into the flesh," I said, "that has marked it. That is +about what his cruelty to you amounts to." I dropped her arm +contemptuously, and rose suddenly. + +She had succeeded in dispelling for the moment the charm of her +beauty. Her prudery, her deceit, her lies made up to me a peculiarly +obnoxious mixture. + +She sprang up, too, as I rose and threw herself on her knees, +clasping her arms round mine so that I could not move. + +"Oh Treevor, I do love you so much. You are my real master, not he. A +woman loves a man who conquers her, but not by buying her. But because +he is better and stronger than she. Because he has great muscles, as +you have, and could kill her, and because she can't deceive him, +because he sees all her lies, as you do. Yes, Treevor, I love you now +very much indeed. Come here again, kiss me again." + +But somehow her pleading did not move me. The moment when I had been +drawn to her had gone by, swallowed up in a feeling of disgust. + +I stooped down and unlocked her hands and put her back among her +cushions. + +"Good-bye, Suzee, for to-day," I said. "To-morrow I will come and take +you for a walk. You must let me go now. I do not want to stay any +longer." + +She looked at me in silence, but did not offer to move from where I +had put her. + +I gathered up my portfolio and left the room, went down the stairs and +through the passage and courtyard to the sun-filled street. + +I went on slowly, and after a time found myself close to the church +again. I went in, for the interior interested me, and found service +was being held. A Russian priest, wholly in white clothing, stood +before the altar, the cross light from the aisle windows falling on +the long twist of fair hair that lay upon his shoulders. The whole air +was full of incense that rose in white clouds to the domed roof. I sat +down near the door and listened while the priest intoned a Latin hymn. +The figure of the young priest at the altar attracted me. I thought I +should like a sketch of it; but I hesitated to take one of him in the +church, even surreptitiously, so I fixed the picture of him as he +stood there on my eyes as far as I could, and then, in a convenient +pause of the service, quietly slipped outside. + +Near the church was a great outcrop of rock surmounted by a +weather-beaten tree. In the shade thrown by these I got out a sheet of +loose paper and made a sketch of the fair, long-haired priest, with +the quaint frame building of the church, its green copper dome and +bell tower and double gold crosses behind him. + +After I had been there some time I was suddenly surprised by Morley. + +"Hullo!" he exclaimed. "You here? Why, I thought you would be in the +arms of the fair Suzee by this time." + +"So I might have been," I answered, looking up from the sketch, "but I +got put off somehow, so I left her and went to church instead!" + +Morley burst out laughing. + +"You _are_ the funniest fellow," he exclaimed, taking his seat beside +me on the ground and clasping his hands round his knees. "So Suzee has +offended you, has she? Do you know, I think that's where we ordinary +people get ahead of fellows like you. You are too sensitive. We're not +so particular. When I'm stuck on Mary Ann it doesn't matter to me what +she says or does. It doesn't interfere with my happiness." + +I went on painting in silence. + +"Funny those chaps look with their long hair, don't they?" he remarked +after a moment, as I painted the light on the priest's long curl. + +"Very picturesque, don't you think?" I said. + +"No, I don't," returned the Briton stoutly. "I think it's beastly." + +I laughed this time, and having completed the portrait, slipped it +into my portfolio and prepared to put away my paints. + +"Don't you want any dinner?" asked Morley. "You must be hungry." + +"Well, I hadn't thought of it," I answered. "But, now you mention it, +perhaps I am. Do you know of any place where one can get anything?" + +"There's one place at the end of the town where you can have soup and +bread," replied Morley, and we started off to find it. + +Later on, towards ten o'clock, when we were leaving the little, frame, +sailors' restaurant, I looked up to the western sky and saw that +strange colour in it of the Alaskan sunset that I have never found in +any other sky, a bright magenta, or deep heather pink, a crude colour +rather like an aniline dye, but brilliant and arresting in the clean, +clear gold of the heavens. + +Great ribs and bars and long flat lines of it lay all across the West. +No other cloud, no other colour appeared anywhere in the sky. It was +painted in those two tints alone; the brightest magenta conceivable +and living gold. + +Walking back slowly to the ship, I gazed at it with interest. No other +sky that I could recall ever shows this tone of colour. Pink, scarlet, +rose, and all the shades of blood or flame-colour are familiar in +every sunset, but this curious tint seemed to belong to Alaska alone. + +I watched it glow and deepen, then fade, and softly disappear as the +sun dipped below the horizon. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +IN THE WOOD + + +The next evening, after dinner, I left the ship and made my way to +Suzee's place to take her for the promised walk. + +It was just seven when I stepped ashore, and light of the purest, most +exquisite gold lay over everything. The air had that special quality +of Alaska which I have never met anywhere else, an extreme humidity; +it hung upon the cheek as a mist hangs, only it was clear as crystal, +brilliant as a yellow diamond. + +There was no wind, not a breath ruffled the stillness nor stirred the +motionless blue water. + +The exquisite chain of islands off the mainland was mirrored in the +still, shining depths, and lifted their delicate outlines clothed with +fir and larch, soft as half-forgotten dreams, against the transparent +blue of the sky. Sitka was placid and restful, the streets quiet and +empty as I walked along in the sunny silence. + +Suzee was at the door waiting for me. She had dressed herself +differently, entirely in yellow. The yellow silk of the little square +jacket contrasted well with her midnight hair, and the only dash of +other colour in the picture she presented was the blue stone in her +earrings. + +"Good evening, Treevor," she said, smiling up at me. And I bent down +and pressed my lips to those little, soft, curved ones she put up for +me. + +We started out at once. Suzee told me we were going for a long way to +see the wood, and had the important air of a person going on a lengthy +expedition. She had brought a Japanese sunshade with her which she put +up, and certainly the hot light falling through the rice-paper had a +wonderfully beautiful effect on her creamy skin and soft yellow silk +clothing. She walked easily, only with rather short steps. As she was +of the lower class, there had been no question of the "golden lilies" +or distortion of the feet for her, and they were small and prettily +shaped, bare, save for a sort of sandal, or as the Indians call them, +"guaraches," bound under the sole. + +We passed up the main street and soon after turned into a narrow +winding road that leads along the coast, Sitka being on a promontory, +with a beautiful azure bay running inland behind it. + +Our path ran sometimes inland, through portions of wood, part of that +great impenetrable primeval forest that at one time completely covered +the whole of Sitka, sometimes quite on the edge of the water. Here +there were rocks and boulders, and little coves of white sand and +stretches of miniature beaches, with the lip of the bay resting on +them. + +Infinitesimal waves broke on the sunny white sand with a low musical +tinkle, across the bay one could see the delicate chain of islands +rising with their feathery trees into the blue, warding off the +breakers and the storms of the open sea beyond. In here, the peaceful +water murmured to itself and repeated tales of the beginning of the +world, of the first gold dawn that broke upon the earth, and of later +days, when the sombre black forests came to the water's edge and none +knew them but the great black bear, and when the seals played +joyously, undisturbed, in the fog-banks off the islands. I was in the +mood to appreciate deeply the beauty of the scene, and all the objects +round seemed to speak to me of their inner meaning, but my companion +was not at all moved by, nor interested in her surroundings. She +helped to make the picture more strange and lovely as she sat by me on +a rock, with her shining clothes and brilliant face under the gay +sunshade, but mentally she jarred on me by her complete indifference +to any influence of the scene. I almost wished I were alone here, to +sit upon this tremendous shore and dream. + +"You are dull, Treevor," she exclaimed pettishly. "You really are." + +I had kissed her twice in the last ten minutes, but she hated my eyes +to wander for a moment from her face to the sea. She hated the least +reference apparently to the landscape. As long as I was talking to +her and about her, admiring her dress or her hair, she was satisfied. + +"Come along," she said impatiently; "let us go on to the wood, leave +off looking at that stupid sea." + +I rose reluctantly and we followed the road which turned inland again. +The wood was a world of grey shadows. As we entered by a narrow trail +leading from the road, the golden day outside was soon closed from us +by the thick veils of hanging creeper and parasitical plants of all +sorts that entwined round the gnarled and aged trees, and crossing and +re-crossing from one to the other, netted them together. + +Over the creepers again had grown grey-green lichens and long, shaggy +moss, so that strands and fringes of it fell on every side, filling +the interstices of the gigantic web that stretched from tree to tree, +excluding the light of the sunlit sky. + +Beneath, the lower branches of the trees were sad and sodden, +overgrown with lichen, clogged with hanging wreaths of moss. A river +ran through the wood and at times, swelled by the melting snows, +burst, evidently, in roaring flood over its banks. + +Everywhere there were traces of recent floods, roots washed bare and +places where the swirling waters had heaped up their débris of sticks +and mud-stained leaves. All along the damp ground the lowest branches +of the trees, weighted with tangled moss, trailed, broken and bruised +by the fierce rush of the current. The trees themselves seemed +centuries old, bent and gnarled and twisted into grotesque and ghostly +forms. In the dim twilight reigning here one could fancy one stood in +some hideous torture-chamber, surrounded by writhing and distorted +figures. There an elbow, there a withered arm, a fist clenched in +agony, seemed protruding from the sombre, sad-clothed trees, so +weirdly knotted and twisted were the old cinder-hued boughs. + +As we neared the river we could hear it rushing by long before we +could see it, so thick was the undergrowth that hung low over it. + +It seemed as if we might be approaching the black Styx through this +melancholy wood where all seemed weeping in torn veils and +ash-coloured garments. + +No touch of depression affected my companion; she seemed as insensible +to the grey solemnity, the dim mystery of the wood, as she had been to +the vivid glory of the sea. She slipped a little velvet hand into +mine, and when we drew near to the hidden Styx, murmured softly: + +"We will find a dry place, Treevor, on the other side, and sit down +among the trees. Then you must take me in your arms and I will be your +own Suzee. I do not want my old husband any more." + +I stopped and looked down upon her. Not even the sad light could dim +the soft brilliance of her face. It seemed to bloom out of the ashy +shadows like an exquisite flower. Her eyes were wells of fire beneath +their velvet blackness. + +"Do you love me very much?" I asked. + +"Oh, yes, so much," she answered with passionate emphasis. "You are so +beautiful. Never have I seen any one so beautiful, and so tall and so +strong. Oh, it is _pain_ to me to love you so much." + +And indeed she became quite white, as she drew her hand from mine and +clasped both of hers upon her breast as if to still some agony there. + +My own heart beat hard. The grey wood seemed to lose its ashy tone and +become warm and rosy round us. I bent over her and took her up wholly +in my arms, and she laughed and threw hers around me in wild delight. + +"Carry me, Treevor, over the bridge and up the slope at the side. It +is so nice to feel you carrying me." + +It was no difficulty to carry her, and the waves of electricity from +her joyous little soul rushed through me till my arms and all the +veins of my body seemed alight and burning. + +I ran with her, over the narrow bridge and up the slope, where, as she +said, there was drier ground. And there, on a bed of leaves under some +tangled branches, I fell on my knees with her still clasped to my +breast, and covered her small satin-skinned face with kisses. + +"I am yours now. You must not let me go. I only want to look and look +at your face. I wish I could tell you how I love you. Oh, Treevor, I +can't tell you...." + +As I looked down, breathless with running and kisses and the fires she +had kindled within me, I saw how her bosom heaved beneath the yellow +jacket, how all the delicate curves of her breast seemed broken up +with panting sighs and longing to express in words all that her body +expressed so much better. + +"Darling, there is no need to tell me. I know." And I put my hand +round her soft column of throat, feeling all its quick pulses +throbbing hard into the palm of my hand. + +"Put your head down on my heart, Treevor. Lie down beside me; now let +us think we have drunk a little opium, just a little, and we are going +to sleep through a long night together. Hush! What is that? Did you +hear anything?" + +She lifted my hand from her throat and sat up, listening. + +I had not heard anything. I had been too absorbed. All had vanished +now from me, except the fervent beauty of the girl before me. + +The sea of desire had closed over my head, sealing the senses to +outside things; I drew her towards me impatiently. + +"It is nothing," I murmured. "I heard nothing." But she sat up, gazing +straight across a small cleared space in front of us to where the +impenetrable thicket of undergrowth again stood forward like grey +screens between the twisted tree trunks. + +"Yes, there was something; there, opposite! Look, something is +moving!" I followed her eyes and saw a strand of loose moss quiver and +heard a twig break in the quiet round us. We both watched the +undergrowth across the open space intently. For a second nothing +moved, then the boughs parted in front of us, and through the great +lichen streamers and rugged bands of grey-green moss depending from +them, peered an old, drawn-looking face. + +Suzee gave a piercing shriek of dismay, and started to her feet. + +"My husband!" she gasped. + +I sprang to my feet, and my right hand went to my hip pocket. The head +pushed through the thicket, and a bent and aged form followed slowly. +I drew out my revolver, but the figure of the old man straightened +itself up and he waved his hand impatiently, as if deprecating +violence. + +"Sir, I have come after my wife," he said, in a low, broken tone. + +I slipped the weapon back in my pocket. I had had an idea that he +might attack Suzee, but voice and face showed he was in a different +mood. + +Suzee clung to my hand on her knees, crying and trembling. + +"Go and sit over there," he said peremptorily to her, pointing to the +other side of the glade, far enough from us to be out of hearing. + +She did not move, only clung and shivered and wept as before. + +I bent over her, loosening my hand. + +"Do as he says," I whispered; "no harm can come to you while I am +here." + +Suzee let go my fingers reluctantly and crept away, sobbing, to the +opposite edge of the thicket. The old Chinaman motioned me to sit +down. I did so, mechanically wondering whether his calmness was a ruse +under cover of which he would suddenly stab me. He sat down, too, +stiffly, beside me, resting on his heels, and his hard, wrinkled hands +supporting his withered face. + +"Now," he said, in a thin old voice; "look at me! I am an old man, you +are a young one. You are strong, you are well; you are rich too, I +think." He looked critically over me. "You have everything that I have +not, already. Why do you come here to rob an old man of all he has in +this world?" + +I felt myself colour with anger. All the blood in my body seemed to +rush to my head and stand singing in my ears. + +I felt a furious impulse to knock him aside out of my way; but his age +and weakness held me motionless. + +"All my youth, when I was strong and good-looking as you are now, and +women loved me, I worked hard like a slave, and starved and saved. +When others played I toiled, when they spent I hoarded up. What was I +saving for? That I might buy myself _that_." He waved his hand in the +direction of Suzee, sitting in a little crumpled heap against a +gnarled tree opposite us. + +"I bought her," he went on with increasing excitement. "I bought her +from a woman who would have let her out, night by night, to +foreigners. I have given her a good home, she does no hard work. She +has a child, she has fine clothes. I work still all day and every day +that I may give money to her. She is my one joy, my treasure; don't +take her away from me, don't do it. You have all the world before you, +and all the women in it that are without husbands. Go to them, leave +me my wife in peace." + +Tears were rolling fast down his face now, his clasped hands quivered +with emotion. + +"When I was a young man I would not take any pleasure. No, pleasure +means money, and I was saving. When I am old I will buy, I said. It +needs money, when I am old I shall have it. I can buy then. But, ah! +when one is old it is all dust and ashes." + +I looked at his thin shrunken form, poorly clad, at his face, deeply +lined with great furrows, made there by incessant toil and constant +pain. I felt my joy in Suzee to wither in the grey shadow of his +grief. Some people would have thought him doubtless an immoral old +scoundrel, and that he had no business in his old age to try to be +happy as younger men are, to wish, to expect it. But I cannot see that +joy is the exclusive right of any particular age. A young man or young +woman has no more right or title to enjoy than an old man or woman; +they have simply the right of might, which is no _right_ at all. + +"Well, what do you want me to say or do?" I exclaimed impatiently. +"Take your wife back with you now, no harm has happened to her. Take +her home with you." + +"Yes, I can take her body, but not her spirit," answered the old man +sadly. + +His tone made me look at him keenly. Hitherto I had felt sorry for +Suzee that she was his; now, as I heard his accent, I felt sorry for +him that he was hers. + +A great capacity for suffering looked out of the aged face, such as I +knew could never look out of hers. + +"If you lift your finger she would come to you! Promise me you will +not see her again, not speak to her; that you will go. And if she +comes to you, you will not accept her." + +I was silent for a moment. + +"My ship goes to-morrow morning," I answered; "I am not likely to see +your wife again. I shall not seek her." + +"That is not enough," moaned the old man; "she will find a way. She +will come to you. Promise me you will not take her away with you; if +you do you will have an old man's murder on your head." + +I moved impatiently. + +"I am not going to take her away," I answered. + +"But promise me. If I have your promise I shall feel certain." + +I hesitated, and looked across at Suzee, a patch of beautiful colour +against the grey background of bent and aged trees. + +What had I intended to do, I asked myself. I could not take her, in +any case. I had not meant that. A virtuous American ship like the +Cottage City would hardly admit a Suzee to share my cabin. + +Then what did my promise matter if it but reflected the fact, and if +it satisfied him? + +"You are not willing to promise," he said, coming close to me and +peering into my face; "I feel it." + +I thought I heard his teeth close on an unuttered oath. Still he did +not threaten me. As I remained silent he suddenly threw himself on the +ground in front of me, and stretched out his hands and put them on my +feet. + +"Sir I implore you. Give me your word you will not take her, then I am +satisfied. Better take my life than my wife." + +I lifted my eyes for a moment in a glance towards Suzee and saw her +make a scornful gesture at the prostrate figure. The gold bracelets on +her arm below the yellow silk sleeve shewed in the action a contrast +to the old, worn clothing of the poorest material that her husband +wore. + +I rose to my feet and raised him up. + +"Get up, I hate to see you kneel to me. I have said I shall not take +your wife. As far as I am concerned, that is a promise. I have said +it." + +"Thank you," he said, inclining his head, and then moved away, not +without a certain dignity in his old form, lean and twisted though the +work of years had made it. + +I dropped back into my place where I had been sitting and watched the +two figures before me almost in a dream. + +He went up to the girl and spoke, apparently not unkindly, and some +talk ensued. Then I saw him bend down and take her wrist and drag her +to her feet. + +Suzee hung back as one sees a child hang back from a nurse, but she +moved forward though unwillingly, and so at last they passed from my +sight, through the grey trees and the weeping moss, the thin old man +stepping doggedly forward, the pretty, gay-clothed childish little +figure dragging back. + +Then all was still. The old grey wood was full of weird light, but the +silence of the night had fallen on it. Beast and bird and insect had +sought their lair and nest and cranny. Not a leaf moved. I felt +entirely alone. + +"One never knows in life," I thought, repeating my words to Morley. + +I felt a keen sense of longing regret surge slowly, heavily through +me. How exquisitely sweet and perfect her beauty was! And she had lain +in my arms for that moment, one moment that was stamped into my brain +in gold. I put my head into my hands and shut out the dim grey wood +from vision and recalled that moment. It came back to me, the touch of +her soft form, the smiling curve of the lips put up to me, the fire in +the liquid depths of those almond eyes, the round throat delicate as +polished ivory. The extraordinary triumph of beauty over the senses +came before my mind suddenly, presenting the problem that always +puzzles and eludes me. + +Why should certain lines and colours in pleasing the eye so +intoxicate and inflame the brain? For it is the brain to which beauty +appeals. Youth and health in a loved object are sufficient to capture +the physical senses, but they do not fill the brain with that +exaltation, that delirium of joy, that divine elation that sweeps up +through us at the sight of beauty. Divine fire, it seems to be lighted +first in the glance of the eyes. + +In an hour's time I left the wood and walked slowly shipwards. I felt +tired and overstrained, exceedingly regretful, full of longing after +that lovely vision that had come to me and that I had had to drive +away. + +The unearthly stillness combined with the brilliant, unabated, +unfailing light had a curious mystery about it that charmed and +delighted me. The sea, so blue and tranquil, sparkled softly on my +left hand, the pellucid blue of the sky stretched overhead, and all +the air was full of the sweet sunshine we associate with day. Yet it +was midnight. I pulled out my watch and looked at it to assure myself +of the fact. Sitka was wrapt in silence and sleep, my own footstep +resounded strangely in the burning empty streets. + +I had to pass the tea-shop on my way to the ship. One could see +nothing of it from the street as the compound shut it off from view, +and across the compound entrance a stout hurdle was now stretched and +barred. + +I passed on with a sigh, reached the ship lying motionless against +the quay, went down to my cabin without encountering any one, threw +off my clothes and myself in my berth, feeling a sense of fatigue +obliterating thought. + +The night before I had had no sleep, and the incessant golden glare, +day and night alike, wearies the nerves not trained to it. + +Suzee and almond eyes and injured husbands floated away from me on the +dark wings of sleep. + +It must have been an hour or so later that I woke suddenly with a +sense of suffocation. Some soft, heavy thing lay across my breast. I +started up and two arms clasped my neck and I heard Suzee's voice; +saying in my ear: + +"Treevor, dear Treevor, I have found you! Now I you will take me away, +and we will stay for ever and ever together. I am so happy." + +The cabin was full of the same steady yellow light as when I closed my +eyes. Looking up I saw her sweet oval face above me. + +She was lying on the berth leaning over me, supported on her elbows. + +As I looked up she pressed her lips down on my face, kissing me on the +eyes and mouth with passionate repetition and insistence. + +"Dear little girl, dear little Suzee!" I answered, putting up my arms +and folding them round her. + +I was only half-awake, and for a moment the old Chinaman was +forgotten. It was all rather like a delicious dream. + +"I am quite, quite happy now," she said, laying down her head on my +chest. "Oh, so happy, Treevor; you must never let me go. I love you +so, like this," she added, putting her two hands round my throat, +"when I can feel your neck and when you are sleeping. You looked +beautiful, just now, when I found you. I am sorry you woke." + +Clear consciousness was struggling back now with memory, but not +before I had pressed her to me and returned those kisses. She had laid +aside her little saffron silk coat, and her breast and arms shone +softly through a filmy muslin covering. + +I sat up regarding her; very lissom and soft and lovely she looked, +and my whole brain swam suddenly with delight. + +Surely I could not part with her! She was precious to me in that +madness that comes over us at such moments. + +I put my arms round her and held her to my breast with all my force in +a clasp that must have been painful to her, but she only laughed +delightedly. + +Then my promise came back to me. It was impossible to break that. What +was the good of torturing myself when I had made it impossible to take +her. Why had she come here? + +"Where is your husband?" I asked mechanically wondering if any strange +fate had removed him from between us. + +"Oh, I put him to sleep, he will give no trouble. I gave him opium, so +much opium, he will sleep a long time." + +"You have not killed him?" I said, in a sudden horror. + +Her eyes were wide open and full of extraordinary fire, she seemed in +those moments capable of anything. + +She put up her little hands and ran them through my hair. + +"Such black hair," she murmured. "Ah, how I love it! I love black +hair. How it shines, how soft it is! I hate grey hair. It is horrid. +No, I have not killed him. He will wake again when we have sailed and +are far away from Sitka." + +These words drove from me the last veil of clinging sleep. I kept my +arms round her and said: + +"But, Suzee, I can't take you with me. I promised your husband +to-night I would not." + +"That's nothing," she replied lightly; "promises are nothing when one +loves. And you love me, Treevor; you must love me, and I am coming +with you, you can't drive me away." + +The ship's bells sounded overhead on deck as she spoke. The sound +seemed a warning. I knew our ship was due to leave in the morning; I +did not know quite when. If it left the quay with the girl on board, +the horror of a broken promise would cling to me all my life. + +"I can't take you, it is impossible. You must go back and try to +forget you have ever seen me. You must go now at once, our ship is +leaving soon." + +"I know," said Suzee tranquilly; "and I shall be so happy when it +starts." + +I pushed her aside and got up from the berth. The cabin window stood +wide open. In the position the ship was it was easy to come in and out +through it from the quay. She must have entered that way. + +"You must go," I said between my teeth. I was afraid of myself. +Overhead I heard movements and clanking chains and shuffling feet. Our +ship was leaving, and she was still on board with me. + +"Go out of that window now, instantly, or I shall put you out." + +"You will not, Treevor," beginning to cry; "you won't be so unkind. I +only want to stay with you; let me stay." + +She was half-sitting on the edge of my berth, clinging to it with both +hands. She was pale with an ivory pallor, her breasts rose in sobs +under the transparent muslin of her vest. + +The ship gave a great heave under our feet. + +The blood beat so in my head and round my eyes I could hardly see her. +I moved to her, clinging to one blind object. I bent over her and +lifted her up. She was like a doll in weight. She was nothing to me. + +As she realised my intention she seemed to turn into a wild animal in +my arms. She bit and tore at my wrists, and scratched my face with her +long sharp nails. + +The ship was moving now and I was desperate. + +I walked with her to the window and put her feet over the ledge. + +We neither of us spoke a word. She clung to my neck so I thought she +must overbalance me and drag me through with her. + +With all my force I pushed her outwards and away from me. Her hands +broke from my neck and scratched down my face till the blood ran from +it. + +"Don't struggle so," I warned her; "you will drop into the sea if you +do." For a blue crack opened already between the moving ship and the +quay. + +Words were useless. She bit and struggled and clung to me like a cat +mad with fear and rage. + +With an effort I leant forward and half threw, half dropped her on the +woodwork. She fell there with a gasping cry, and I drew the window to +and shut it. + +The ship rose and fell now and the blue water gleamed in an +ever-widening track between its side and the quay. + +I leant against the window glass and watched her through it. She had +struggled to her knees and now knelt there weeping and stretching out +little ivory tinted hands to the departing ship. My own eyes were +full, and only through a mist could I see her kneeling there, a +brilliant spot of colour in dazzling light on the deserted quay. + +I turned away at last as we struck out on the open water. There, on my +berth, facing me as I stumbled back to it, lay a little yellow jacket. + +I threw myself upon it and put my hand over my eyes, while the ship +made out beyond the fairy islands. And the gold night passed over and +melted into the new day. + + + + +PART TWO + +THE VIOLET NIGHT + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +AT THE STUDIO + + +I was back in London again, back in my studio with the dull grey light +of the city falling through the windows, and all the vivid glory, the +matchless splendour of the North lay like a past dream in the +background of my memory. But still how clear the dream, how bright +each moment of it, and how long to my retrospective vision! Was it +possible I had only been there three or four months? It seemed like as +many years. For time has this peculiarity, that joy and action shorten +it while it is passing, but lengthen it when it is past. A week in +which we have done nothing of note, but spent in stationary idleness, +how long and tedious it seems, yet in looking back upon it, it appears +short as a day; while a week in which we have travelled far, seen +several cities and been glad in each, though the gilded moments have +danced by on lightning feet, when we look back upon that week it seems +as if we have lived a year. + +It was there, bright, radiant in my mind, the picture of those blue +days and golden northern nights, and how the light of the picture +seemed to gather round, and centre in a sweet youthful face with the +blue stone earrings, hanging against the creamy neck, beside the +rounded cheek, and the cluster of red flowers bound on each temple +against the smooth black hair! + +I settled myself lower in the deep roomy armchair, and pushed my feet +forward to the blazing fire. There was still half an hour before I +could decently ring for tea, and it was too dark already to work. I +had had a hard and disagreeable morning, too, and felt I needed rest +and quiet thought. How the red flame leapt in the grate, and what a +rich, warm, wine-dark colour it threw all round my red room! I rose +and drew the heavy crimson curtains across the windows to shut out +their steely patches of grey that spoiled the harmony of colour. I +returned to my chair and glanced round with satisfaction. Fitted and +furnished and hung with every beautiful shade of red, my studio always +delighted and charmed my vision. + +My friends said I had papered and furnished it in red to throw up the +white limbs and contours of my models, and this had something to do +with it, for hardly any colour shows off white flesh to better +advantage, though pale blue in this matter runs it close; but this was +not the prompting motive. Rather it was that in England where all is +so cold and tame and grey, from morals to colours, I liked to surround +myself with this glowing barbaric crimson, this warm inviting tint. + +My eye in wandering from floor to ceiling rested finally on the empty +easel, the numerous white unused sheets of paper near it. I felt in +despair. Not even a sketch of a Phryne yet! Not even a model found! +Not even the idea of where to find one! + +I had been seeing models all the morning, and how wearisome and +vexatious, and even, towards the end, how repulsive that becomes! The +wearying search after something that corresponds to the perfect ideal +in one's brain, the constant raising of hope and ensuing +disappointment as a misshapen foot or crooked knee destroys the effect +of neck and shoulder, produce at last an intolerable irritation. I had +dismissed them all finally, and they had trailed away in the rain, a +dismal procession of dark-clothed women. + +A quarter of an hour of red stillness in that comfortable room had +passed, and the warmth and quiet of it had crept over me and into me, +gradually soothing away all vexations, when a knock came on the door +and in answer to my, "Come in," some one entered the room behind me. + +"I am so glad to find you." + +I started to my feet at the sound of the soft voice, and went forward +to the door. + +"Viola! how good of you to come." I took both her hands and drew her +into the firelight which sparkled gratefully on her tall slender +figure and the fair waves of hair under her velvet hat. + +"May I stay and have tea with you? I have shopping all the afternoon +and as I was driving past I thought I would see if you were in and +disengaged." + +"I shall be delighted," I said as I wheeled another armchair up to the +fire. + +"You are sure? You have nothing else to do?" + +"Nothing, really nothing," I said, walking to the electric lights and +switching them on; "and if I had, I would leave it all to have tea +with you." + +She laughed, such a pretty dainty laugh! What a contrast to the rough +giggles amongst the models this morning! + +"Trevor! you are just the same as ever; all compliments. But I am +immensely glad you are not going to turn me out, for I am chilly and +tired and want my tea and a talk with you very badly." And she settled +down in her large chair with a sigh of content. + +I came back to the hearth and stood looking down upon her. The light +was rose-coloured, falling through tinted globes, and soft as the +firelight. She looked exquisite, and she must have seen the admiration +in my eyes for she coloured under them. + +She was wearing a dark green velvet gown edged fur and which fitted +her lovely figure closely, being perhaps designed to display it. + +"You have come like a glorious sunset to a gloomy day," I said. "I +have had a horrid morning and been depressed all the afternoon." + +"You have no inspiration, then, yet for the Phryne?" she answered, +glancing round; "otherwise you would be in the seventh heaven." + +"No," I groaned, "and the models are so dreadful; so far from giving +one an inspiration, they would kill any one had. All last week I was +trying to find a model, and all this morning again. I would give +anything for a good one." + +She murmured a sympathetic assent, and I went on, pursuing my own +thoughts freely, for Viola was my cousin and no one else knew or +understood me so well as she did. We had grown up together, and always +talked on all sorts of subjects to each other. + +"The difficulty is with most of these English models, they are so +thick and heavy, so cart-horsey, or else they are so thin. The tall, +graceful ones are too thin, I want those subtle, gracious lines, but I +don't want sharp bones and corners. I want smooth, rounded contours, +and yet the outlines to be delicate; I want slender grace and +suppleness with roundness...." + +I stopped suddenly, the blood mounting to my forehead. I was looking +down at her as she lay back in the chair. She looked at me, and our +gaze got locked together. A thought had sprung suddenly between us. I +realised all at once I was describing the figure before me, realised +that I was face to face with the most perfect, enchanting model of my +dearest dreams. + +There was a swift rush of red to her face, too, as I stopped. Up till +then she had been quietly listening. But she saw my thought then. It +was visible to both of us and for a moment a deadly silence dropped on +us. Of course, I ought not to have stopped, but the thought came to me +with such a blinding flash of sudden revelation that it paralysed me +and took speech from my lips. Just in that moment the door opened and +tea was brought in. I turned my attention immediately to making it, +and what with asking her how much sugar she would have and pressing +her to take hot toast and crumpets, the cloud of embarrassment passed +and all was light and easy again. I dismissed the idea instantly, and +we did not speak of the picture. I questioned her about her shopping, +we recalled the last night's dance where we had been together, and +spoke of a hundred other light matters in which we had common +interests. Then a silence stole over us, and Viola sank far back in +her chair, gazing with absent eyes into the fire. + +Suddenly she sat up and turned to me. I saw her heart must be beating +fast, for her face and lips had grown quite white. + +"Trevor, I wish you would let me be your model for the Phryne." + +Almost immediately she had spoken the colour rushed in a burning +stream across her face, forcing the tears to her eyes. I saw them brim +up, sparkling to the lids, in the firelight. + +I sat up in my chair, leaning forwards towards her. My own heart +seemed to rise with a leap into my throat. + +"Dearest! I could not think of such a thing! It is so good of you, +but...." + +I stopped. She had sunk back in her chair. She was looking away from +me. I saw the tears well up over the lids and roll slowly unchecked +down her face. + +"I should so like to be of use to you," she murmured in a low tone, +"and I think I could be in that way, immense use." + +I slid to my knees beside her chair, and took the slim, delicate white +hand that hung over the arm in mine and pressed it, very greatly moved +and hardly knowing what to answer her. + +"I shall never forget you have offered it, never cease to be grateful, +but...." + +"There is no question of being grateful," she broke in gently, "unless +it were on my side. I should think it an honour to be made part of +your work, to live for ever in it, or at least much longer than in +mortal life. What is one's body? It is nothing, it perishes so soon, +but what you create will last for centuries at least." + +I pressed my lips to her hand in silence. I felt overwhelmed by the +suggestion, by the unselfishness, by the grandeur of it. I saw that +the proposition stood before her mind in a totally different light +from that in which it would present itself to most women. But, then, +the outlook of an artist upon life and all the things in life is +entirely different from that of the ordinary person. It takes in the +wide horizon, it embraces a universe, and not a world, it sweeps up to +the large ideals, the abstract form of things, passing over the +concrete and the actual which to ordinary minds make up the all they +see. + +And Viola was an artist: she expressed herself in music as I did in +painting. Our temperaments were alike though our gifts were different, +and we served the same mystical Goddess though our appointments in her +temple were not the same. + +As an artist the idea was, to me, simple enough, as a man it horrified +me. + +"I could not allow it." + +She turned upon me. + +"Why?" she said simply. + +"Well, because ... because it is too great a sacrifice." + +"I have said it is no sacrifice. It is an honour." + +"It would injure you if it became known." + +"It will not become known." + +"Everything becomes known." + +"Well, I shouldn't care if it did." + +"By and by you might regret it. It might stand in the way of your +marrying some one you loved." + +"I don't believe I shall ever want to marry. Do I look like a domestic +person? In any case, I am quite sure I shouldn't want to marry a man +if he objected to my being a model for a great picture to my own +cousin. Why, Trevor, we are part of each other, as it were. I am like +your own sister. What can it matter? While you are painting me I shall +be nothing, the picture will be everything. I am no more than a dream +or vision which might come before you, and you will give me life, +immortality on your canvas. As an old woman when all beauty has gone +from me, I shall be there alive, young, beautiful still." + +"It is all sophistry, dearest, I can't do it." + +"You will when you have thought it all over," she said softly, "at +least if you think I should do--are you sure of that?" + +She rose and stood for a moment, one hand outstretched towards the +mantelpiece, and resting there for support. The velvet gown clung to +her, and almost every line of her form could be followed with the eye +or divined. The throat was long, round, and full, the fall of the +shoulder and the way its lines melted into the curves of the breast +had the very intoxication of beauty in them, the waist was low, +slender, and perfect, the main line to the knee and on to the ankle +absolutely straight. To my practised eyes the clothing had little +concealment. I knew that here was all that I wanted. + +"I am supposed to have a very perfect figure," she said with a faint +smile, "and it seems rather a pity to use it so little. To let it be +of service to you, to give you just what you want, to create a great +picture, to save you all further worry over it, which is quite +knocking you up, would be a great happiness to me." + +She paused. I said nothing. + +"I do not think I must stay any longer," she said glancing at my +clock, "nor shall I persuade you any more. I leave it entirely in your +hands. Write to me if you want me to come. Perhaps you may find +another model." + +She smiled up at me. Her face had a curious delicate beauty hard to +define. The beauty of a very transparent skin and sapphire eyes. + +I bent over her and kissed her bright scarlet lips. + +"Dearest! if you only knew how I appreciate all you have said, how +good I think it of you! And I could never find a lovelier model; you +know it is not that thought which influences me, but it is impossible. +You must not think of it." + +"Very well," she said with a laugh in her lovely eyes, "but _you_ +will!" + +She disengaged herself from me, picked up a fur necklet from her +chair, and went to the door. + +"Good-night," she said softly, and went out. + +Left to myself, I walked restlessly up and down the room. She was +right. I could think of nothing but her words to me, and how her visit +had changed my mood and all the atmosphere about me! It seemed as if +she had filled it with electricity. My pulses were all beating hard. +The quiet of the studio was intolerable. I was dining out that +evening, and then going on to a dance. I would dress now a little +early and then go to the club and spend the intermediate time there. + +My bedroom opened out of the studio by a small door, before which I +generally had a red and gold Japanese screen. I went in and switched +on the light and began to dress, trying to get away from my crowding +thoughts. + +The temptation to accept Viola's suggestion was the greater because +she was so absolutely free and mistress of her own actions. + +If she chose of her own free will to do any particular thing there was +practically no one else to be consulted and no one to trouble her with +reproof or reproaches. + +Early left an orphan and in possession of a small fortune in her own +right, she had been brought up by an old aunt who simply worshipped +her and never questioned nor allowed to be questioned anything which +Viola did. + +She had given her niece an elaborate education, believing that a +girl's mental training should be as severe as a boy's, and Viola knew +her Greek and Latin and mathematics better than I knew mine, though +all these had lately given way to the study of music, for which she +had a great and peculiar gift. + +The old lady was delighted when she found her favourite niece was +really one of the children of the gods, as she put it, and henceforth +Viola's life was left still more unrestrained. + +"She has genius, Trevor," she would say to me, "just as you have, and +we ordinary people can't profess to guide or control those who in +reality are so much greater than we are. I leave Viola to judge for +herself about life, I always have since she was quite a little thing, +and I have no fear for her. Whatever she does I know it will always be +right." + +Viola was just twenty, but this kind of training had given her an +intelligence and developed her intellect far beyond her years. + +In her outlook upon life she was more like a man than a woman, and, +never having been to school nor mixed much with other girls of her own +age, she was free from all those small, petty habits of mind, that +littleness of mental vision that so mars and dwarfs the ordinary +feminine character. + +In this question of posing for the picture, to take her face also +would, of course, be quite impossible, but I had my own ideal for the +Phryne's face, nor was that important. + +That the figure should be something of unusual beauty, something +peculiarly distinctive seemed to me a necessity. For the form of the +Grecian Phryne had, by the mere force of its perfect and triumphant +beauty, swept away the reason of all that circle of grey-bearded +hostile judges called upon to condemn it, had carved for itself a +place in history for ever. There should in its presentment be +something peculiarly arresting and enchanting, or the artistic idea, +the spirit of the picture, would be lost. + +The next morning I interviewed models again, and so strange is the +human mind that while I honestly tried to find one that suited me, +tried to be satisfied, I was full of feverish apprehension that I +might do so, and when I had seen the last and could with perfect +honesty reject her, I felt a rush of extraordinary elation all through +me. I knew, and told myself so, every half second, that Viola's +temptation was one I ought to and must resist, and yet the idea of +yielding filled me with a wild instinctive delight that no reason +could suppress. Yes, because once an artist has seen or conceived by +his own imagination his perfect ideal, nothing else, nothing short of +this will satisfy him. If it was difficult for me to find a model +before, it was practically impossible to do so now. For, having once +realised what it wanted, the mind impatiently rejected everything +else, though it might possibly have accepted something less than its +desire before that realisation of it. + +These models were all well-formed women, but they were commonplace. +The hold Viola's form had upon the eye was that it was not +commonplace. Its beauty was distinctive, peculiar, arresting. I was +not a painter of types, but of exceptions. The common things of life +are not interesting, nor do I think they are worthy subjects for Art +to concern itself with. Something unusually beautiful, transcending +the common type, is surely the best for the artist to try to +perpetuate. + +Friday came, the end of the week, and I was still without a model. My +nights had been nearly sleepless, and my days full of feverish +anxiety: an active anxiety to accept another sitter and withstand the +temptation of Viola, which fought desperately with the more passive +anxiety not to be satisfied and to be obliged to yield. Between these +two I had grown thin, as they fought within me, tearing me in the +struggle. + +To-day, Friday, the war was over. I had sent a note to Viola asking +her to have tea with me. If she came, if she still held to her wish, I +should accept, and the Phryne was assured. How my heart leapt at the +thought! Those last hours before an artist gives the first concrete +form to the brain children of his intangible dreams, how full of a +double life he seems! I was back from lunch and in the studio early; I +could not tell when she might come, and I closed all the windows and +made up the fire till the room seemed like a hot-house. I arranged a +dais with screens of flaming colour behind it reflecting the red rays +of the fire. + +If she consented, she should stand here after having changed into the +Greek dress. And as the moment chosen for the picture was that in +which Phryne is unveiling herself before her judges, I intended to let +her discard the drapery as she liked. I should not attempt to pose +her; I would not even direct her; I should simply watch her, and at +some moment during the unveiling she would fall naturally into just +the pose--some pose--I did not know myself yet which might give me my +inspiration--that I wished. Then I would arrest her, ask her to remain +in it. I thought so we should arrive nearest to the effect of that +famous scene of long ago. + +The dress I had chosen was of a dull red tint, not unlike that of +Leighton's picture, but I had no fear of seeming to copy Leighton. +What true artist ever fears he may be considered a copyist? He knows +the strength and vitality of his conception will need no spokesman +when it appears. + +I felt frightfully restless and excited, a mad longing filled me to +get the first sketch on paper. I hardly thought of Viola as Viola or +my cousin then. She was already the Phryne of Athens for me, but when +suddenly a light knock came on the door outside my heart seemed to +stand still and I could hardly find voice to say, "Come in." When she +entered, dressed in her modern clothes and hat, and held out her hand, +all the modern, mundane atmosphere came back and brought confusion +with it. + +"You said come early, so here I am," she said lightly. "Trevor," she +added, gazing at me closely, "you are looking awfully handsome, but so +white and ill. What is the matter?" + +"I have been utterly wretched about the picture. I know I ought not to +accept your offer, but the temptation is too great. If you feel the +same as you did about it, I am going to ask you to pose for me this +afternoon." + +"I do feel just the same, Trevor," she answered earnestly. "You can't +think how happy and proud I am to be of use to you." + +"You know what the picture is?" I asked her, holding her two hands +and looking down into the great eyes raised confidently to mine. + +"I want you to dress in all those red draperies, and then, standing on +the dais, to drop them, let them fall from you." + +"Yes, I think I know exactly. I will try, and, if I don't do it +rightly, you must tell me and we must begin again." + +She took off her hat and cloak and gloves. Then she turned to me and +asked for the dress. I gave it to her and showed her how it fastened +and unfastened with a clasp on the shoulder. + +She listened quietly to my directions, then, gathering up all the thin +drapery, walked to the screen and disappeared from my view. + +I sat down waiting. A great nervous tension held me. I had ceased to +think of the right or wrong of my action. I was too absorbed now in +the thought of the picture to be conscious of anything else. + +When she came from behind the screen clothed in the red Athenian +draperies her face was quite white, but composed and calm. She did not +look at me, but walked to the platform at once. I had withdrawn to a +chair as far from it as was practicable, divining that the nearer I +was the more my presence would weigh upon her. She faced me now on the +dais, and very slowly began to unfasten the buckle on her shoulder. I +sat watching her intently, hardly breathing, waiting for the moment. + +She was to me nothing now but the Phryne, and I was nothing but a +pencil held in the hand of Art. + +The first folds of crimson fell, disclosing her throat and shoulders, +the others followed, piling softly one on the other to her waist, +where they stayed held by her girdle. The shoulders and breasts were +revealed exquisite, gleaming white against the dull glow of the +crimson stuff. I waited. It was a lovely, entrancing vision but I +waited. She lowered her hand from her shoulder and brought it to her +waist, firmly and without hesitation she unclasped the belt, and then +taking the sides of it, one in each hand, with its enclosed drapery, +which parted easily in the centre, she made a half step forwards to +free herself from it, and stood revealed from head to foot. It was the +moment. Her head thrown up, with her eyes fixed far above me, her +throat and the perfect breast thrown outwards and forwards, the slight +bend at the slim waist accentuating the round curves of the hips, one +straight limb with the delicate foot advanced just before the other, +the arms round, beautifully moulded, held tense at her sides, as the +hands clutched tightly the falling folds behind her, these made up the +physical pose, and the pride, the tense nervousness, the defiance of +her own feelings gave its meaning expression. I raised my hand and +called to her to pause just so, to be still, if she could, without +stirring. + +She quivered all through her frame at the sudden shock of hearing my +voice; then stood rigid. I had my paper ready, and began to sketch +rapidly. + +How beautiful she was! In all my experience, in the whole of my +career, I had never had such a model. The skin was a marvellous +whiteness: there seemed no brown, red, or yellow shades upon it; nor +any of that mottled soap appearance that ruins so many models. She was +white, with the warm, true dazzling whiteness of the perfect blonde. + +My head burned: I felt that great wave of inspiration roll through me +that lifts the artist to the feet of heaven. There is no happiness +like it. No, not even the divine transports and triumph of love can +equal it. + +I sketched rapidly, every line fell on the paper as I wished it. The +time flew. I felt nothing, knew nothing, but that the glorious image +was growing, taking life under my hand. I was in a world of utter +silence, alone with the spirit of divine beauty directing me, creating +through me. + +Suddenly, from a long distance it seemed, a little cry or exclamation +came to me. + +"Trevor, I must move!" + +I started, dropped the paper, and rose. + +The light had grown dim, the fire had burned hollow. Viola had +dropped to her knees, and was for the moment a huddled blot of +whiteness amongst the crimson tones. I advanced, filled with +self-reproach for my selfish absorption. But she rose almost directly, +wrapped in some of the muslin, and walked from the dais to the screen. +I hesitated to follow her there, and went back to the fallen picture. +I picked it up and gazed on it with rapture--how perfect it was! The +best thing of a lifetime! Viola seemed so long behind the screen I +grew anxious and walked over to it. As I came round it, she was just +drawing on her bodice, her arms and neck were still bare. She motioned +me back imperatively, and I saw the colour stream across her face. I +retreated. It was absurd in a way, that blush as my eyes rested on her +then, I who just now ... and yet perfectly reasonable, understandable. +Then she was the Phryne, a vision to me, as she had said, in ancient +Athens. And now we were modern man and woman again. All that we do in +this life takes its colour from our attitude of mind towards it, and +but for her artist's mind, a girl like Viola could never have done +what she had at all. + +In a moment more she came from behind the screen. She looked white and +cold, and came towards the fire shivering. I drew her into my arms, +strained her against my breast, and kissed her over and over again in +a passion of gratitude. + +"How can I thank you! You have done for me what no one else could. I +can never tell you what I feel about it." + +She put her arms round my neck, and kissed me in return. + +"Any one would do all they could for you, I think," she said softly. +"You are so beautiful and so nice about things I am only too happy to +have been of use to you." + +"What a brute I was to have forgotten you were standing so long. Was +it very bad? Were you cold?" + +"At the end I was, but I shouldn't have moved for that. I got so +cramped. I couldn't keep my limbs still any longer. I was sorry to be +so stupid and have to disturb you." + +"I can't think how you stood so well," I said remorsefully, "and so +long. It is so different for a practised model." + +"Well, I did practise keeping quite still in one position every day +all this last week, but of course a week is not long." + +I had pressed the bell, and tea was brought in. I busied myself with +making it for her. She looked white and ill. I felt burning with a +sense of elation, of delighted triumph. The picture was there. It +glimmered a white patch against the chair a little way off. The idea +was realised, the inspiration caught, all the rest was only a matter +of time. + +We drank our tea in silence. Viola looked away from me into the fire. +She did not seem constrained or embarrassed. Having decided to do, as +she had, and conquer her own feelings, she did so simply, grandly, in +a way that suited the greatness of her nature. There was no mincing +modesty, no self-conscious affectation. The agony of confusion that +she had felt in that moment when she had stood before me with her hand +on the clasp of her girdle, had been evident to me, but her pride +forced her to crush it out of sight. + +I went over to her low chair and sat down at her feet. + +"Do you know you have shown me this afternoon something which I did +not believe existed--an absolutely perfect body without a fault or +flaw anywhere. I did not believe there could be anything so +exquisitely beautiful." + +She coloured, but a warm happy look came into her eyes as she gazed +back at me. + +"So I did really satisfy you? I realised your expectations?" she +murmured. I lifted one of her hands to my lips and kissed it. + +"Satisfied is not the word," I returned, looking up into the dark blue +eyes above me with my own burning with admiration. "I was entranced. +May I shew it to you?" + +"Yes, I should like to see it," she answered. + +I rose and brought over to her the picture and set it so that we both +could see it together. She gazed at it some time in silence. + +"Do you like it?" I asked suddenly with keen anxiety. + +"You have idealised me, Trevor!" + +"It is impossible to idealise what is in itself divine," I replied +quietly. She looked at me, her face full Of colour but her eyes alight +and smiling. + +"I am so glad, so happy that you are pleased. You have drawn it +magnificently. What life you put into your things--they live and +breathe." + +She turned and looked at my clock. + +"I must go now, I have been here ages." She began to put on her hat +and cloak. When I had fastened the latter round her throat, I took +both her hands in mine. + +"May I expect you to-morrow?" + +"To-morrow? Let me see. Well, I was going to the Carrington's to +lunch. I promised to go, so I must; but I need not stay long. I can +leave at three and be here at half past; only that will be too late in +any case on account of the light, won't it?" + +"Not if it is a bright day." + +"You see, I need not accept any more invitations. I shan't, if I am +coming here, but I have one or two old engagements I must keep." + +I dropped her hands and turned away. + +"But I can't let you give up your amusements, your time for me in this +way!" I said. + +Viola laughed. + +"It's not much to give up--a few luncheons and teas! As long as I have +time for my music I will give you all the rest." + +She stood drawing on her gloves, facing the fire; her large soft, +fearless eyes met mine across the red light. + +I stepped forwards towards her impulsively. + +"What _can_ I say? How can I thank you or express a hundredth part of +my gratitude?" + +Viola shook her head with her softest smile and a warm caressing light +in her eyes. + +"You look at it quite wrongly," she said lightly. "My reward is great +enough, surely! You are giving me immortality." + +Then she went out, and I was alone. + + * * * * * + +For a fortnight I was happy. Viola came regularly every day to the +studio, and the picture grew rapidly, I was absorbed in it, lived for +it, and had that strange peace and glowing content that Art bestows, +and which like that other peace "passeth all understanding." + +Then gradually a sense of unrest mingled with the calm. The whole +afternoon while Viola was with me I worked happily, content to the +point of being absolutely oblivious of everything except ourselves and +the picture. Our tea together afterwards, when we discussed the +progress made and the colour effects, was a delight. But the moment +the door was closed after her, when she had left me, a blank seemed to +spread round me. The picture itself could not console me. I gazed and +gazed at it, but the gaze did not satisfy me nor soothe the feverish +unrest. I longed for her presence beside me again. + +One day after the posing she seemed so tired and exhausted that I +begged her to lie down a little and drew up my great comfortable +couch, like a Turkish divan, to the fire. She did as she was bid, and +I heaped up a pile of blue cushions behind her fair head. + +"I am so tired," she exclaimed and let her eyes close and her arms +fall beside her. + +I stood looking down on her. Her face was shell-like in its clear +fairness and transparency, and the beautiful expressive eyebrows drawn +delicately on the white forehead appealed to me. + +The intimacy established between us, her complete willing sacrifice to +me, her surrender, her trust in me, the knowledge of herself and her +beauty she had allowed me gave birth suddenly in my heart to a great +overwhelming tenderness and a necessity for its expression. + +I bent over her, pressed my lips down on hers and held them there. She +did not open her eyes, but raised her arms and put them round my neck, +pressing me to her. In a joyous wave of emotion I threw myself beside +her and drew the slender, supple figure into my arms. + +"Trevor," she murmured, as soon as I would let her, "I am afraid you +are falling in love with me." + +"I have already," I answered. "I love you, I want for my own. You must +marry me, and come and live at the studio." + +"I don't think I can marry you," she replied in very soft tones, but +she did not try to move from my clasp. + +"Why not?" + +"Artists should not marry: it prevents their development. How old are +you?" + +"Twenty-eight," I answered, half-submerged in the delight of the +contact with her, of knowing her in my arms, hardly willing or able to +listen to what she said. + +"And how many women have you loved?" + +"Oh, I don't know," I answered. "I have been with lots, of course, but +I don't think I have ever loved at all till now." + +"What about the little girl in the tea-shop at Sitka?" + +"I don't think I loved her. I wanted her as an experience." + +"Is it not just the same with me?" + +"No, it isn't. It's quite different. Do not worry me with questions, +Viola. Kiss me and tell me you love me." + +She raised herself suddenly on one elbow and leant over me, kissing +me on the eyes and lips, all over my face, with passionate intensity. + +"I do love you. You are like my life to me, but I know I ought not to +marry you. I should absorb you. You would love me. You would not want +to be unfaithful to me. But fidelity to one person is madness an +impossibility to an artist if he is to reach his highest development. +It can't be. We must not think of it." + +The blood went to my head in great waves. The supreme tenderness of a +moment back seemed gone, her words had roused another phase of +passion, the harsh fury of it. + +"I don't care about the art, I don't care about anything. You shall +marry me. I will make you love me." + +"You don't understand. If you were fifty-eight I would marry you +directly." + +"You shall marry me before then," I answered, and kissed her again and +put my hands up to her soft-haired head to pull it down to my breast +and dragged loose some of its soft coils. + +"Trevor, you are mad. Let me get up." + +I rose myself, and left her free to get up. She sat up on the couch, +white and trembling. + +"Now you are going to say you won't come to me any more, I suppose?" I +said angrily. The nervous excitement of the moment was so great; there +was such a wild booming in my ears I could hardly hear my own voice. + +She looked up. The tears welled into her luminous blue eyes. + +"How unkind you are! and how unjust! Of course I shall come, must come +every day if you want it till the Phryne is done. You don't know how I +love you." + +I took her dear little hand and kissed it. + +"I am sorry," I said. "Forgive me, but you must not say such stupid +things. Of course you will marry me; why, we are half married already. +Most people would say we ought to be." + +I turned on the lights and drew the table up to the fire, which I +stirred, and began to make the tea. + +Viola sat on the edge of the couch in silence, coiling up her hair. + +She seemed very pale and tired, and I tried to soothe her with +increased tenderness. I made her a cup of tea and came and sat beside +her while she drank it. Then I put my arm round her waist and got her +to lean against me, and put her soft fair-haired head down on my +shoulder and rest there in silence. + +I stroked one of her hands that lay cold and nerveless in her lap with +my warm one. + +"You have done so much for me," I said softly; "wonderful things which +I can never forget, and now you must belong to me altogether. No two +people could love each other more than we do. It would be absurd of +us not to marry." I kissed her, and she accepted my caresses and did +not argue with me any more; so I felt happier, and when she rose to +leave our good-bye was very tender, our last kiss an ecstasy. + +When she had gone I picked up one of the sketches I had first made of +her and gazed long at it. + +How extravagantly I had come to love her now. I realised in those +moments how strong this passion was that had grown up, as it were, +under cover of the work, and that I had not fully recognised till now. + +How intensely the sight of these wonderful lines moved me! I felt that +I could worship her, literally. That she had become to me as a +religion is to the enthusiast. + +I must be the possessor, the sole owner of her. I felt she was mine +already. The agony and the loss, if she ever gave herself to another, +would be unendurable. If that happened I should let a revolver end +everything for me. I did not believe even the thought of my work would +save me. + +Yet how curious this same passion is, I reflected, gazing at the +exquisite image on the paper before me. If one of these lines were +bent out of shape, twisted, or crooked, this same passion would cease +to be. The love and affection and esteem I had for her would remain, +but this intense desire and longing for her to be my own property, +which shook me now to the very depths of my system, would utterly +vanish. + +Yet it would be wrong to say that these lines alone had captured me, +for had they enclosed a stupid or commonplace mind they would have +stirred me as little as if they themselves had been imperfect. + +No it is when we meet a Spirit that calls to us from within a form of +outward beauty, and only then, that the greatest passion is born +within us. + +And that I felt for Viola now, and I knew--looking back through a +vista of other and lighter loves--I had never known yet its equal. She +loved me, too, that great fact was like a chord of triumphant music +ringing through my heart. Then why this fancy that she would not marry +me? How could I possibly break it down? persuade her of its folly? + +I walked up and down the studio all that evening, unable to go out to +dinner, unable to think of anything but her, and all through the night +I tossed about, restless and sleepless, longing for the hour on the +following day which should bring her to me again. + +Yet how those hours tried me now! It would be impossible to continue. +She must and should marry me. It was only for me she held back from it +apparently, yet for me it would be everything. + +One afternoon, after a long sitting, the power to work seemed to +desert me suddenly. My throat closed nervously, my mouth grew dry, +the whole room seemed swimming round me, and the faultless, dazzling +figure before me seemed receding into a darkening mist. I flung away +my brush and rose suddenly. I felt I must move, walk about, and I +started to pace the room then suddenly reeled, and saved myself by +clutching at the mantelpiece. + +"What is it? What is the matter?" came Viola's voice, sharp with +anxiety, across the room. "Are you ill? Shall I come to you?" + +"No, no," I answered, and put my head down on the mantelpiece. "Go and +dress. I can't work any more." + +I heard her soft slight movements as she left the dais. I did not +turn, but sank into the armchair beside me, my face covered by my +hands. + +Screens of colour passed before my eyes, my ears sang. + +I had not moved when I felt her come over to me. I looked up, she was +pale with anxiety. + +"You are ill, Trevor! I am so sorry." + +"I have worked a little too much, that's all," I said constrainedly, +turning from her lovely anxious eyes. + +"Have you time to stay with me this evening? We could go out and get +some dinner, if you have, and then go on to a theatre. Would they miss +you?" + +"Not if I sent them a wire. I should like to stay with you. Are you +better?" + +I looked up and caught one of her hands between my own burning and +trembling ones. + +"I shall never be any better till I have you for my own, till we are +married. Why are you so cruel to me?" + +"Cruel to you? Is that possible?" Her face had crimsoned violently, +then it paled again to stone colour. + +"Well, don't let's discuss that. The picture's done. I can't work on +it any more. It can't be helped. Let's go out and get some dinner, +anyway." + +Viola was silent, but I felt her glance of dismay at the only +half-finished figure on the easel. + +She put on her hat and coat in silence, and we went out. After we had +ordered dinner and were seated before it at the restaurant table we +found we could not eat it. We sat staring at one another across it, +doing nothing. + +"Did you really mean that ... that you wouldn't finish the picture?" +she said, after a long silence. + +I looked back at her; the pale transparency of her skin, the blue of +the eyes, the bright curls of her hair in the glow of the electric +lamp, looked wonderfully delicate, entrancing, and held my gaze. + +"I don't think I can. I have got to a point where I must get away from +it and from you." + +"But it is dreadful to leave it unfinished." + +"It's better than going mad. Let's have some champagne. Perhaps that +will give us an appetite." + +Viola did not decline, and the wine had a good effect upon us. + +We got through some part of our dinner and then took a hansom to the +theatre. As we sat close, side by side, in one of the dark streets, I +bent over her and whispered: + +"If we had been married this morning, and you were coming back to the +studio with me after the theatre I should be quite happy and I could +finish the picture." + +She said nothing, only seemed to quiver in silence, and looked away +from me out of the window. + +We took stalls and had very good seats, but what that play was like I +never knew. I tried to keep my eyes on the stage, but it floated away +from me in waves of light and colour. I was lost in wondering where I +had better go to get fresh inspiration, to escape from the picture, +from Viola, from myself. Away, I must get away. _Coelum, non animum, +mutant qui trans mare current_ is not always true. Our mind is but a +chameleon and takes its hues from many skies. + +In the vestibule at the end I said: + +"It's early yet. Come and have supper somewhere with me, you had a +wretched dinner." + +Anything to keep her with me for an hour longer! Any excuse to put +off, to delay that frightful wrench that seems to tear out the inside +of both body and soul which parting from her to-night would mean. + +"Do you want me to come to the studio with you afterwards?" she asked. + +I looked back at her with my heart beating violently. Her face was +very pale, and the pupils in her eyes dilated. + +We had moved through the throng and passed outside. + +The night was fine. We walked on, looking out for a disengaged hansom. +I could hardly breathe: my heart seemed stifling me. What was in her +mind? What would the next few minutes mean for us both? + +My brain swam. My thoughts went round in dizzying circles. + +"We shan't have time for supper and to go to the studio as well," I +answered quietly. + +"I don't think I want any supper," she replied. + +A sudden joy like a great flame leapt through me as I caught the +words. + +A crawling hansom came up. I hailed it and put her in and sprang in +beside her, full of that delight that touches in its intensity upon +agony. "Westbourne Street," I called to the man. "No. 2, The Studio." + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE CALL OF THE CUCKOO + + +I stood looking through the window of my studio thinking. + +The worst had happened, or the best, whichever it was. Viola had +become my mistress. She had resolutely refused to be my wife, and the +alternative had followed of necessity. The picture had brought us +together, it held us together. I could not separate from her without +sacrificing the picture, and so destroying her happiness, as she said, +and rendering useless all that she had done for me so far. + +The picture forced us into an intimacy from which I could not escape +and which, now that the devastating clutch of passion had seized me, I +could not endure unless she became my own. Viola had seen this and +given me herself as unhesitatingly as she had at first given me her +beauty for the picture. + +In her relations with me she seemed to reach the highest point of +unselfishness possible to the human character. For I felt that it was +to me and for me she had surrendered herself, not to her own passion +nor for her own pleasure. + +She would have come day after day and sat to me, shewed me herself and +delighted in that self's-reproduction on the canvas, talked to me, +delighted in our common worship of beauty, accepted my caresses +and--for herself--wanted nothing more. + +I had worked well in the past fortnight since the night of the +theatre, not so well perhaps as in that first clear period of +inspiration, of purely artistic life when Viola was to me nothing but +the beautiful Greek I was creating on my canvas, but still, well. + +Some may think I naturally should from a sense of gratitude, a sense +of duty,--that I should be spurred to do my best, since avowedly Viola +had sacrificed all that the work should be good. + +But ah, how little has the Will to do with Art! + +How well has the German said, "The Will in morals is everything; in +Art, nothing. In Art, nothing avails but the being able." + +The most intense desire, the most fervid wish, in Art, helps us +nothing. On the contrary, a great desire to do well in Art, more often +blinds the eye and clogs the brain and causes our hand to lose its +cunning. Unbidden, unasked for, unsought, often in our lightest, most +careless moments, the Divine Afflatus descends upon us. + +We had arranged to have a week-end together out of town. Fate had +favoured us, for Viola's aunt had gone to visit her sister for a few +weeks, and the girl was left alone in the town house, mistress of all +her time and free to do as she pleased. The short interviews at the +studio, delightful as they were, seemed to fail to satisfy us any +longer. We craved for that deeper intimacy of "living together." + +This is supposed to be fatal to passion in the end, but whether this +is so or not, it is what passion always demands and longs for in the +beginning. + +So we had planned for four days together in the country, four days of +May, with a delicious sense of delight and secret joy and warm +heart-beatings. + +I had dined at her house last night when all the final details had +been arranged in a palm-shaded corner by the piano, our conversation +covered by the chatter of the other guests. No one knew of our plan, +it was a dear secret between us, but it would not have mattered very +much if others had known that we were going into the country. I was +always supposed to be able to look after Viola, and everybody assumed +that it was only a question of time when we should marry each other. +We had grown up together, we were obviously very much attached to each +other, and we were cousins. And with that amazing inconsistency that +is the chief feature of the British public, while it would be shocked +at the idea of your marrying your sister, it always loves the idea of +your marrying your cousin, the person who in all the world is most +like your sister. + +However, all we as hapless individuals of this idiotic community have +to do is to secretly evade its ridiculous conventions when they don't +suit us, and to make the most of them when they do. + +And as I was more anxious to marry Viola than about anything else in +the world, I welcomed the convention that assigned her to me and made +the most of it. + +For all that, we kept the matter of our four days to ourselves and +planned out its details with careful secrecy. + +I was to meet her at Charing-Cross station, and we were going to take +an afternoon train down into Kent where Viola declared she knew of a +lovely village of the real romantic kind. I had thought we ought to +write or wire for rooms at a hotel beforehand, but Viola had been sure +she would find what she wanted when we arrived, and she wished to +choose a place herself. + +So there was nothing more to do. My suit-case was packed, and when the +time came to a quarter past two I got into a hansom and drove to the +station. + +Almost as soon as I got there, Viola drove up, punctual to the minute. + +She knew her own value to men too well to try and enhance it by always +being late for an appointment as so many women do. + +She looked fresh and lovely in palest grey, her rose-tinted face +radiant with excitement. + +"I haven't kept you waiting, have I?" was her first exclamation after +our greeting. + +"I had so much work to do for Aunt Mary all the morning, I thought I +should not have time to really get off myself." + +"No, you haven't kept me waiting," I answered; "and, if you had, it +would not have mattered. You know I would wait all day for you." + +She glanced up with a wonderful light-filled smile that set every cell +in my body singing with delight, and we went down the platform to +choose our carriage. + +When the train started from Charing Cross the day was dull and +heavy-looking; warm, without sunshine. But after an hour's run from +town we got into an atmosphere of crystal and gold and the Kentish +fruit trees stretched round us a sea of pink and white foam under a +cloudless sky. + +When we stepped out at our destination, a little sleepy country +station, the air seemed like nectar to us. It was the breath of May, +real merry, joyous English May at the height of her wayward, uncertain +beauty. + +We left our light luggage at the station, and walked out from it, +choosing at random the first white, undulating road that opened before +us. + +The little village clustered round the station, but Viola did not want +to lodge in the village. + +"We can come back to it if we are obliged, but we shall be sure to +find a cottage or a wayside inn." + +So we went on slowly in the transparent light of a perfect May +afternoon. + +There are periods when England both in climate and landscape is +perfect, when her delicate, elusive loveliness can compare favourably +with the barbaric glory, the wild magnificence of other countries. + +On this afternoon a sort of rapture fell upon us both as we went down +that winding road. The call of the cuckoo resounded from side to side, +clear and sonorous like a bell, it echoed and re-echoed across our +path under the luminous dome of the tranquil sky and over the hedges +of flowering thorn, snow-white and laden with fragrance. + +Everywhere the fruit trees were in bloom: delicate masses of white and +pink rose against the smiling innocent blue of the sky. + +"Now here is the very place," exclaimed Viola suddenly, and following +her eyes I saw behind the high, green hedge bordering the road on +which we were walking some red roofs rising, half hidden by the masses +of white cherry blossom which hung over them. A cottage was there +boasting a garden in front, a garden that was filled with lilac and +laburnum not yet in bloom; filled to overflowing, for the lilac bulged +all over the hedge in purple bunches and the laburnum poured its young +leaves down on it. A tiny lawn, rather long-grassed and not innocent +of daisies, took up the centre of the garden, and on to this two open +casements looked; above again, two open windows, half-lost in the +white clouds of cherry bloom. + +"But how do you know they've any rooms?" I expostulated. + +Viola looked at me with jesting scorn in her eyes. + +"I don't know yet, but I'm going to find out." + +She put her hand unhesitatingly on the latch of this apparently sacred +domain of a private house, opened the gate, and passed in; I followed +her inwardly fearful of what our reception might be. + +"Men have no moral courage," she remarked superbly as we reached the +porch and rang the bell. + +A clean-looking woman came to the door after some seconds. + +"Apartments? Yes, miss, we have a sitting-room and two bedrooms +vacant," she answered to Viola's query. "Shall I show them to you?" + +We passed through a narrow, little hall smelling of new oilcloth into +a fair-sized room which possessed one of the casements we had seen +from outside and through which came the white glow and scent of the +cherry bloom and the song of a thrush. + +"This will do," remarked Viola with a glance round; "and what bedrooms +have you? We only want a sitting-room and one bedroom now." + +"Well, ma'am, the room over this is the drawing-room. That's let from +next Monday. Then I have a nice double-room, however, I could let with +this." + +"We will go and see it," said Viola. And we went upstairs. + +It seemed a long way up, and when we reached it and the door was +thrown open we saw a large room, it was true but the ceiling sloped +downwards at all sorts of unexpected angles like that of an attic, and +the casements were small, opening almost into the branches of the +cherry-tree. + +"What do you want for these two?" Viola enquired. + +"Five guineas a week, ma'am," returned the woman, placidly folding her +hands together in front of her. + +I saw a momentary look of surprise flash across Viola's face. Even +she, the young person of independent wealth, and who commanded far +more by her talents, was taken aback at the figure. + +"Surely that's a good deal," she said after a second. + +"Well, ma'am, I had an artist here last summer and he had these two +rooms, and he said as he was leaving: 'Mrs. Jevons, you can't ask too +much for these rooms. The view from that window and the cherry-tree +alone is worth all the money.'" + +We glanced through the window as she spoke. It was certainly very +lovely. A veil of star-like jasmine hung at one side, and without, +through the white bloom of the cherry, one caught glimpses of the +turquoise-blue of the sky. Beneath, the garden with the wandering +thrushes and its masses of lilac; beyond, the soft outline of the +winding country road leading to indefinite distance of low blue hills. + +"We'll take them for the sake of the cherry-tree," Viola said smiling. + +"Will you send to the station for our light luggage and let us have +some tea presently?" + +The woman promised to do both at once and ambled out of the room, +leaving us there and closing the door behind her. + +I looked round, a sense of delight, of spontaneous joy, filling slowly +every vein, welling up irresistibly all through my being. + +For the first time I stood in a room with Viola which we were going to +share. No other form of possession, of intimacy, is quite the same as +this, nor speaks to a lover in quite the same way. + +I looked at her. She stood in the centre of the rather poorly +furnished and bare-looking room, in her travelling dress of a soft +grey cloth. Her figure that always woke all my senses to rapture, +shewed well in the clear, simple lines of the dress. Over the perfect +bosom passed little silver cords, drawing the coat to meet. + +Beneath her grey straw summer hat, wide-brimmed, a pink rose nestled +against the light masses of her hair. Her eyes looked out at me with a +curious, tender smile. + +She threw herself into a low cane chair by the window, I crossed the +room suddenly and knelt beside it. + +"Darling, you are pleased to be here with me, are you not?" + +"Pleased! I am absolutely happy. I have the sensation that whatever +happened I could not possibly be more happy than I am." + +She put one arm round my neck and went on softly in a meditative +voice: + +"I can't think how some girls go on living year after year all through +their youth never knowing this sort of pleasure and happiness, for +which they are made, can you?" + +"They don't dare to do the things, I suppose," I answered. + +"Perhaps they wouldn't give them any pleasure, ... but it seems +extraordinary." Her voice died away. Her blue eyes fixed themselves on +me in a soft, dreaming gaze. + +I locked both my arms round her waist and kissed her lips into +silence. A knock at the door made me spring to my feet. Viola remained +where she was, unmoved, and said, "Come in." + +A trim-looking maid came in with rather round eyes fixed open to see +all she could. She had a can of hot water in her hand. + +"Please, mum, I thought you'd like some hot water." + +"Very much," returned Viola calmly. "Thank you." + +The maid very slowly crossed the room to the washing-stand and set the +can in the basin, covering it with a towel with elaborate care and +deliberateness, looking at Viola out of the corners of her eyes as she +did so. + +"Please, m'm, when your luggage comes shall I bring it up?" + +"Yes, do please, bring it up at once," replied Viola, and the girl +slowly withdrew, shutting the door in the same lengthy manner after +her. + +Viola got up and crossed to the glass. She took off her hat and +smoothed back her hair with her hand. Each time she did so, the light +rippled exquisitely over its shining waves. + +"I wonder if I ought to wash my face?" she remarked, looking in the +glass; "does it look dusty?" + +"Not in the least," I said, studying the pink and white reflection in +the glass over her shoulder. + +"Don't waste the time washing your face. Come and look out of the +window." + +We went over to the little casement, and leant our arms side by side +on the sill. + +The glorious afternoon sunlight was ripening and deepening into +orange, a burnished sheen lay over everything, the blue hills were +changing into violet, the trees along the road stood motionless, soft, +and feathery-looking in the sleepy heat. As we looked out we saw a +light cart coming leisurely along and recognised our luggage in it. + +Some fifteen minutes later the round-eyed maid reappeared, with a man +following her carrying our luggage. + +"If you please, m'm, Mrs. Jevons says would the gentleman go down and +give what orders he likes for dinner for to-day and to-morrow as the +tradesmen are here now and would like to know." + +"Do you mind going down, Trevor?" Viola asked me. "I want just to get +a few of my things out?" + +"Certainly not," I answered, "I'll go." And I followed the maid out +and downstairs. + +When I returned to the room about half-an-hour later, it was empty, +and as I looked round it seemed transformed, now that her possessions +were scattered about. I walked across it, a curious sense of pleasure +seeming to clasp my heart and rock it in a cradle of joy. + +I glanced at the toilet table. On the white cloth lay now two +gold-backed brushes, a gold-backed mirror and a gold button-hook, a +little clock in silver and a framed photograph of me; over the chair +by the dressing-table was thrown what seemed a mass of mauve silk and +piles of lace. I lifted it very gently, fearing it would almost fall +to pieces, it seemed so fragile, and discovered it was her +dressing-gown. How the touch of its folds stirred me since it was +_hers_! + +I replaced it carefully, wondering at the keen sensation of pleasure +that invaded me as the soft laces touched my hands. + +I turned to my own suit-case, unstrapped it, opened it, and then +pulled out the top drawer of the chest, intending to lay my things in, +but I stopped short as I drew it out. + +A sheet of tissue paper lay on the top, and underneath this was her +dinner-dress--a delicate white cloud of shimmering stuff told me it +was that--and at the end of the drawer I saw two little white shoes +and white silk stockings. + +I paused, looking down at the contents of the drawer, wondering at the +wave of emotion they sent through me. Why, when I possessed the girl +herself, should these things of hers have any power to move me? + +It was perhaps partly because this form of possession, of intimacy, +was so new to me, and partly because I was young and still keenly +sensitive to all the delights of life and not yet even on the edge of +satiety. I lifted one little shoe out and sat down with it in my hand, +gazing at its delicate, perfect shape, my heart beating quickly and +the blood mounting joyously to my brain. + +What a wonderful thing it is, this life in youth when even the sight +of a girl's shoe can bring one such keen, passionate pleasure! + +Yet what pain, what agony it would be if by chance I had come across +this shoe and held it in my hand as now, and there was no violet night +to follow, no white arms going to be stretched out through its deep +mauve-tinted shadows! + +I was still sitting with the shoe in my hand when Viola reappeared, +her arms full of lilac. + +"I went down to the garden to get some of this," she said. "It looked +so lovely. What are you doing, Trevor, sitting there? The woman has +made the tea, and it will be much too strong if you don't come down." + +She came up behind me and I saw her flush and smile in the glass as +she caught sight of her shoe. I looked up, and she coloured still more +at my glance. + +"I am thinking about this and other things," I said smiling up at her. + +She bent over and kissed me and took the shoe out of my hand. + +"I am glad you like my little shoe," she said gently with a tender +edge to her tone, replacing the shoe in the drawer. + +"Now do come down." + +She put all the lilac in a great mass in the jug and basin, and we +went downstairs. + +After tea we went out to explore our new and temporarily acquired +territory, and found there was another flower garden at the side of +the house. This, like the one in front, was hedged round with lilac +laden with glorious blossom of all shades, from deepest purple through +all the degrees of mauve to white. Every here and there the line was +broken by a May-tree just bursting into bloom that thrust its pink or +white buds through the lilac. A narrow path paved with large, uneven, +moss-covered stone flags led down the centre and on through a little +wicket gate into the kitchen garden beyond, so that altogether there +was quite an extensive walk through the three gardens, all +flower-lined and sweetly fragrant. We passed slowly along the path +down to the extreme end of the kitchen garden where there was a seat +under a broad-leaved fig-tree. By the side of the seat stood an old +pump, handle and spout shaded by a vine that half trained and half of +its own will trailed and gambolled up the old red brick garden wall. A +flycatcher perched on the pump handle and thrilled out its gay +irresponsible song. + +"I have just come over the sea and I am so glad to be here, so glad, +so glad," it seemed to be saying, and two swallows skimmed backwards +and forwards low down to the earth, gathering mud from a little pool +by the pump. + +We sat down on the bench and looked out from under the fig-tree at the +pure tranquil sky, full of gold light and just tinted with the first +rosy flush of evening. + +There was complete silence save for the clear, gay, rippling song of +the bird, and the deep peace of the scene seemed to fall upon us like +an enchanted spell. + +Viola dropped her head on my shoulder with a sigh of contentment. + +"I am so happy, so content. I feel as glad as that little flycatcher. +It has escaped from the sea and the storms and winds, and I've got +away from London, its tiresome dinners and hot rooms and all the +stupid men who want to marry one." + +I laughed and watched her face as it lay against me, and I saw her +eyes half-closed as she gazed dreaming into the sunshine. + +Faint pink clouds sailed across the sky at intervals like downy +feathers blown before a breeze; the flycatcher continued its +chattering song to us, some bees hummed with a warm summer-like sound +over the wall. + +An hour slipped by and seemed only like one golden moment. We heard a +bell jangle from the direction of the house, and when I looked at my +watch I saw it was time to dress for dinner. + +When we retraced our steps the whole garden was bathed in rosy light +and the lilac stood out in it curiously and poured forth a wonderful, +heavy fragrance as we passed. + +The voice of spring, that beautiful low whisper with its promise of +summer and cloudless days was in all the air. Had we been married +several years I do not think either Viola or I would have found Mrs. +Jevons's cooking good nor praised the dinner that night; the +attendance also might have been condemned. But as it was we were in +that magic mirage of first days together and everything seemed +perfect. + +When it was over we sought the outside again and sat watching the now +paling rose of the sky being replaced by clear, tender green. A +passion and rapture of song, the last evening song of the birds, was +being poured out on the still dewy air all round us. One by one the +songsters grew tired and ceased as a pale star grew visible here and +there in the transparent sky, and complete silence fell on the garden. +Only a bat flitted across it silently now and then, and the white +night-moths came and played by us. I had my arm round her waist and I +drew her close to me and looked down upon her through the dusky +twilight. + +"Let us go, too, dearest, it is quite late." + +She looked up, the colour waving all over her face, and smiled back at +me, and we went in and upstairs. + +When we reached our room, the window was wide open as we had left it +and the room seemed full of soft violet gloom, heavy with fragrance of +the lilac that shewed its pale mauve stars through the shadows. + +It was so beautiful, the effect of the deep summer twilight, that I +told her not to light the candles. + +"Shew yourself to me in this wonderful mysterious half-light, nothing +can be more beautiful." + +I sat down on the foot of the bed watching her, my heart beating, +every pulse within me throbbing with delight. + +Viola did not answer. She did not light the candles, but with the +rustle of falling silk and lace began her undressing. + +That night I could not sleep. The window stood open, and the room was +filled with the soft mysterious twilight of the summer night with its +thousand wandering perfumes, its tiny sounds of bats and whirring +wings. + +The cherry bloom thrust its long, white, scented arms into the room. I +lay looking towards the white square of the window wide-eyed and +thinking. + +A strange elation possessed my brain. I felt happy with a clear +consciousness of feeling happy. One can be happy unconsciously or +consciously. + +The first state is like the sensation one has when lying in hot water: +one is warm, but one hardly knows it, so accustomed to the embrace of +the water has the body become. + +The other state of conscious happiness is like that of first entering +the bath, when the skin is violently keenly alive to the heat of the +water. + +Viola lay beside me motionless, wrapped in a soundless sleep like the +sleep of exhaustion. Not the faintest sound of breathing came from her +closed lips. + +The room was so light I could distinctly see the pale circle of her +face and all the undulating lines of her fair hair beside me on the +pillow. + +I felt the strange delight of ownership borne in upon me as it had +never been yet. + +We had not dared to pass a night together at the studio. + +We had only had short afternoons and evenings, hours snatched here and +there, over-clouded by fears of hearing a knock at the door, a +footstep outside. + +But this deep solitude, these hours of the night when she _slept_ +beside me, all powers, all the armour of our intelligence that we wear +in our waking moments, laid aside, seemed to give her to me more +completely than she had ever given herself before. + +And gazing upon her in serene unconsciousness, I felt the intense joy +of possession, a sort of madness of satisfaction vibrating through me, +stamping that hour on my memory for ever. + +The next morning we came down late and enjoyed everything with that +keen poignant sense of pleasure that novelty alone can give. To us +coming from a stay of months in town the small sitting-room, the open +casement window, the simple breakfast-table, the loud noise of birds' +voices without, the green glow of the garden seemed delightful, almost +wonderful. + +So curtains were really white! how strange it seemed. In town they are +always grey or brown, and the air was light and thin with a sweet +scent, and the sky was blue!!! + +It was a fine day, the sun poured down riotously through the +snow-white bloom of the cherry-tree, two cuckoos were calling to each +other from opposite sides of the wood, and their note, so soft in the +distance, so powerful when near, resounded through the shining air +till it seemed full of the sound of a great clanging bell, musical and +beautiful. + +Viola was delighted; her keen ear enjoyed the unusual sound. + +"Oh, Trevor, that repeated note, how glorious it is! It reminds me of +a sustained note in Wagner's _Festpiel_. I do wish they'd go on." + +She seated herself by the window listening with rapture in her eyes. +The woman of the house brought in our coffee, but I doubt if we should +have got any breakfast, only the cuckoos wanted theirs and fortunately +flew off to get it. + +When the glorious musical bell rang out far on the other side of the +wood, dimmed by distance, Viola came reluctantly to the table. + +"How delicious this is! this being in the country _just at first_. +Look at the table with its jonquils! isn't it pretty? Look at the +honey and cream!" + +"I think you had better eat some of it," I answered; "or at least pour +out the coffee." + +Viola laughed and did so, and we breakfasted joyously, full of the +curious gayety that belongs to novelty alone. + +Then we went out, and the outside was equally entrancing. The scent of +the lilac seemed to hang like a canopy in the air under which we +walked. There was a fat thrush on the lawn, young and tailless. The +sight of him and the dappled marks on his white breast gave me a +strange pleasure. + +We sat down on the turf finally where the cherry-tree cast a light +shade, a sort of white shadow in the sunlight, from its blossoms. +Viola thrust her hands down into the cool, green grass. + +"How lovely this is," she said, looking up the tall tree above us. +"Look at its great tent of white blossoms against the blue sky; it's +like a picture of Japan!" + +After a time, when we were tired of the garden, we went out and turned +down the white road to explore the country. + +It was very hot, and the glare from the road excessive, but as it was +all new to us it all seemed delightful, even to the white dust that +coated our lips and got into our eyes whenever the breeze stirred. + +After about a mile and a half of walking we came to an oak wood. The +road dipped suddenly between cool, green, mossy banks and lay in deep, +grateful shade from the arching oaks above. I climbed the bank on one +side and looked into the wood. It was very thick and wild, apparently +rarely penetrated. Through the close-growing stems of the undergrowth +I saw a bluebell carpet lying like inverted sky beneath the oaks. + +"The wood looks very attractive," I said as I rejoined Viola; "but we +can't stay to go into it now. We haven't the time; it's half past +twelve already." + +"I'm sorry," said Viola, looking wistfully at the green wood. "This is +the nicest part; but I suppose we can't disappoint that woman by not +getting back to luncheon." + +So we walked back slowly through the noonday sun, admiring the double +pink May peeping out from the green hedges. + +When we came in just before lunch, she took the easy chair facing the +window, and I sat down on one opposite and watched her. She was +wearing a white cambric dress that looked very simple and girlish; she +was smiling, and her face was delicately rose-coloured after the +walk. + +A sense of responsibility came over me. She was my cousin, my own +blood relation. I must protect her, must think for her if she would +not think for herself. + +"You know it's risky being down here like this. You had much better +come to some rustic church with me in another village and marry me +there." + +"No. You know perfectly well I am not going to marry you," she said +softly, looking up at me with a smile in her eyes, great pools of blue +beneath their exquisitely arched lids. + +"It is ridiculous to suppose that you, an artist of twenty-eight, will +want to keep faithful to one woman all the rest of your life--or her +life. It would be very bad for you, if you did. One can't go against +Nature, and Nature has not arranged things that way. Marriage is a +pleasure perhaps; but Nature never arranged, marriage, and a man +should not allow himself unnatural pleasures." + +She was really laughing now, but I knew her resolve was perfectly +serious and I did not see how I could break it up. + +"Well, but some men do keep to one woman all their life and are none +the worse for it; look at a country clergyman for instance." + +Viola raised her eyebrows with a laugh. + +"How can you be sure of the country clergyman? I expect he goes up to +town sometimes.... However, of course I admit he is fairly faithful, +but how about being none the worse for it? A country clergyman is +about the most undeveloped creature you could have, and a great artist +is the most developed, the nearest approach to a god of all human +beings." + +I did not answer, but sat silent staring at her. She looked such a +sweet little Saxon schoolgirl in her white dress, but with such +tremendous character and power in those great shining eyes. + +"But if we marry now," I said at last, "and anything should ... should +come between us, I don't see it would be any worse than...." + +"Than if we were living together without marriage," she put in +quickly. "Yes, I think it would. Look here, if we marry now with a +great blaze and fuss, and invite all our friends to see the event, +which is great nonsense anyway, and then you see some other woman +later you covet, it seems to me there are only three ways open to us: +either you go without the woman and suffer very much in consequence +and always owe me a grudge for standing in your way; or you take her +and I have to profess to see nothing and look on quietly, which I +could never stand, it would send me mad; or we must have all the +trouble and worry and scandal of a divorce and call in the public to +witness our quarrel; and why _should_ we have the public to interfere +in our affairs?" she added, her eyes flashing. "What is it to them +whom I love or whom I live with, whom I leave or quarrel with? These +are all private matters." + +"And if we live together and the same thing happens?" I pursued +quietly. + +"Why, then we should separate, only without any trouble, any +publicity; we should fall apart naturally. If you preferred any one +else, you must go to her; I should slip away out of your life, and we +should each be free and untied." + +"If it's so much better for the man to change," I said smiling, "it +must be the same for the woman." + +"So it is," rejoined Viola quickly; "the more men a woman has the more +developed she is, the better for her morally, if there is no +conventional disgrace attaching to it. Amongst the Greeks, Aspasia and +all those women of her class were far more intellectual, more +developed than the wives who were kept at home to spin and rear +children." + +"All these things ought to be optional. If a woman loves one man so +much she wants to stay with him for ever and ever, probably through +such a great passion she reaches her highest development; but until +she has found that man she ought to be allowed to go from one to +another without any disgrace attaching to it. And, of course, just the +same law holds good for the man." + +"Outsiders like the world and the law ought never to be allowed to +interfere between a man and a woman. They never can know the right or +the wrong of their relations to each other well enough to enable them +to be judges. Nobody ever knows but the man and the woman themselves, +and they ought to be left alone; what they do, whether in quarrelling +or love, ought to be as private as the prayers one sends to Heaven." + +She paused, and through the window came the gay, loud, triumphant call +of the cuckoo seeking its mate of an hour in the heart of the glad +green wood. + +Viola listened with a look of delight. + +"How happy they are!" she said. And the note came again, instinct with +love and joy. + +"How well Nature arranged everything, and how Man has spoiled it all! +Fancy passion, the most subtle, evanescent, delicate, elusive +emotion--and yet one so strong--fancy that being bound down by crabbed +and crooked laws, being confined by wretched little conventions!" + +"But, anyway, we shall have to say we are married here." + +"Oh, say anything you like," rejoined Viola laughing; "saying doesn't +do any harm." + +"Yes, but then we must fix some place where we've _been_ married and +all that, do you see; we'd better go somewhere further off I think and +stay away some time and come back married. I do feel very worried +about it, Viola. I think it would be much simpler to do it than to +lie about it." + +Viola jumped up and came over to me. + +"Dear Trevor, I am _so_ sorry you are worried, but really it will work +out all right. We will go abroad somewhere from here, we might go to +Rome, it's a lovely time of year, and then to Sicily, to Taormina, ... +and we'll stay away a year and you finish the picture and I'll write +an opera, and then we'll come back married to town in the season and +we'll have _been_ married before we leave England of course, and then +it will be a year ago, and I don't think anybody will bother about it +much." + +I looked down upon her. She was so pretty and so dear to me: I must +keep her, and if those were the only terms upon which she would stay +with me I must accept them. + +The landlady came into the room at this minute followed by the maid to +lay the luncheon; in the landlady's hand was a fat, black book which +she presented diffidently to Viola. + +"It's the Visitors' book, ma'am," she said. "I thought you and the +gentleman would like to write your names in it in case of any +letters...." + +"Yes, very much," returned Viola promptly, with a little side smile at +me, and sat down and wrote in it. + +When she had done so, she closed the book, and as the maid was in and +out of the room during luncheon, it was not till it was finished and +cleared away and we were alone that I asked her what she had written. + +"Mr. and Mrs. Lonsdale; that's right, isn't it? I did not put Trevor +for I always think 'make your lies short' is a good rule." + +"I thought you were such a truthful person," I said a little sadly. + +"So I am--to you, for instance, so I should be to any one who has the +right to hear truth; but the world has no right, and I don't care what +lies I tell it, it's such an inquisitive old bore!" + +I laughed. Viola always made you laugh when you felt you ought to be +angry with her. + +"Come out now," I said, "let's enjoy this lovely afternoon. I should +like to paint you under that tree," I added musingly, looking out on +the tree in its white glory. + +"In your usual style?" she returned laughing. "I don't think you could +here. Mrs. Jevons would turn me out as not being respectable; not even +being Mrs. Lonsdale would save me." + +"You would make a lovely picture, even dressed," I returned, musing; +"but then of course it would not sell for half the price." + +"Nothing is really snapped at but the nude. That lovely landscape I +painted when I was young and foolish,--it took me two years to work +it off, and the veriest little daub of an unclothed girl goes directly +at a hundred guineas." + +"A great compliment to our natural charms," laughed Viola. "I am +delighted personally at anything that is a note of protest against the +tyranny of the dressmaker and fashion." + +"What shall we do?" I queried; "it's beautifully hot," I added +persuasively. + +"I'll tell you: we will go into the oak wood; the oaks grow low and +the ground and the land rise all round, no one can possibly see us +without coming quite close; on that blue carpet you shall paint me +lying asleep, we will call the picture 'The Soul of the Wood,' and you +shall sell it for a thousand. Come along." + +So it was decided, and with one of her thick cloaks, that she could +throw round her instantly if surprised, and my artist's pack we +started for the wood. + +It was a hot golden day, the one day we should get of really fine +weather in the whole English year, and when we reached the wood the +light under the oak boughs was magnificent, a soft mellow glory +falling down on the blue hyacinths which grew so closely together that +it was as if a sea of vivid colour had invaded the dell or a great +patch of the blue sky had fallen there. + +We had difficulty in getting into the wood as the undergrowth of +young oak scrub made it almost impenetrable; it stood up straight, and +the great, swaying, huge, spreading boughs of the old oaks above came +down and rested on and amongst the young oaks, like a roof upon +pillars, and the leaves of both intermingled till they were like green +silk curtains hung from ceiling to floor. When we had finally pushed +through almost on our hands and knees to the centre of the wood, the +scrub grew less close, the carpet of blue was perfect, a circle of +green shut us in, we were in a magic chamber, through the roof of +which came floods of green and golden light. + +Viola cast aside the "tyranny of the dressmaker" and shook out her +light hair. Then she threw herself on the hyacinth bed, looking +upwards to the low arching roof. At that moment the call of the +cuckoo, wild, entrancing, came overhead, and she raised her arms with +a look of rapture as the slim grey bird dashed through the upper oak +branches in pursuit of its mate. It was a perfect pose for the "Soul +of the Wood," and I begged her to keep it while I rapidly caught the +idea and sketched it in roughly in charcoal. + +Those happy sunlit hours in the wood, how fast they slipped away! I +was absorbed in the work and completely happy in it, and Viola I +believe was equally happy in the delight she knew she was giving me. + +We came back very hungry to our tea, and very pleased with ourselves, +the sketch, and our successful afternoon. + +It was six o'clock, the light was mellowing, and a thrush singing with +all its own wonderful passion and rapture on the lawn. The scent of +the lilac, intensely sweet, came in at the window and filled the room. + +In the evening we went out and sat under the cherry-tree, watching the +stars come out and gleam through its white bloom. + +"Sing me the Abendstern," murmured Viola, leaning her head against me. +"I was a dutiful model all the afternoon, it's your turn to amuse me +now." + +So I sang the Abendstern to her under the cherry-tree, and its white +shadow enveloped us both, making her face look very beautiful under +it; and when I had finished singing we kissed each other and agreed +that the world was a very delightful place as long as there was +Wagner's music in it, and cherry-trees to sit under, and white bloom +and stars and lips to kiss. + +Between nine and ten, after a very countrified supper we went up to +bed in the slanting-roofed room under the thatch, full still of the +tender light of a spring evening. + +The next day was delicious, too, and the next, but on the fourth we +were quite ready to go. We had drained the cup of joy which that +particular place held for us and it had no more to offer. The +cherry-tree pleased us still, but it did not give us the ecstatic +thrill of the first view of it. The lilac scent streamed in, but it +did not go to the head and intoxicate us as when we came straight from +the air of Waterloo; the thrush gurgled as passionately on the deep +green lawn, but the gurgle did not stir the blood. All was the same, +only the strange spell of novelty was gone. + +Viola seemed so pleased to be leaving it quite hurt me. When I went +upstairs I found her packing her little handbag with alacrity and +singing. + +"Are you glad to be going?" I asked. + +"Yes," she said surprised; "are not you?" + +"But you have been happy here?" I said with a tone of remonstrance. + +"Oh, yes!" she exclaimed; "wildly, intensely happy! It's been four +days' enchantment, but then it's gone now; we can't get any _more_ out +of this place. We have enjoyed it so much we have drained it, +exhausted it; like the bees, we must move on to a fresh flower." + +It was true that was all we could do, yet I looked round the bare +attic-like room with regret. Could ever another give me more than that +had done? Could there ever be a keener joy, a deeper delight than I +had known in the shadows of that first violet night? + + + + +PART THREE + +THE BLACK NIGHT + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +IN MAYFAIR + + +The spring of the next year found us installed in a small house in +Mayfair, for the season. + +For a year we had been abroad; the summer in Italy, the winter in +Egypt, and had come back with our eyes full of colour, armed against +the deadly greyness of England for three months at least. + +We had travelled as Mr. and Mrs. Lonsdale, we came back as Mr. and +Mrs. Lonsdale. There had been no difficulty so far. Every one seemed +satisfied, and what was far more important, so were we. + +The whole top floor of the Mayfair house was my studio, and made a +fairly large and convenient one. We kept on the old studio as a matter +of sentiment, but rarely went there now. + +The "Phryne" and the "Soul of the Wood" had been finished and accepted +for exhibition. Both were sold, the "Phryne" for five thousand pounds, +the "Soul of the Wood" for four thousand, and I had brought from +abroad many unfinished sketches and partly finished pictures. + +In all this time we had lived very close to each other: Viola had been +my only model against an ever-varied background. Not the faintest +shadow had flecked the sunshine of our passion for each other. Viola +had written her operetta, and it had been taken for a London theatre. +A Captain Lawton had written the libretto under the title of the "Lily +of Canton." The music was weird and charming, suited to the strange +Chinese story and scenery. It was to be produced in May, and Viola +always spoke of the first night with excited joy. + +It had been a full, rich year. Like bees, as Viola had said, we had +gone from flower to flower, draining the honey from each new blossom +and passing on. New places, new skies, new scenes had all in turn +contributed to our pleasure and given us inspiration which took form +again in our art. + +The vivid desert backgrounds, the light-filled skies of Upper Egypt +crept into my pictures, the cry of impassioned Eastern music in the +forbidden dancing-dens of Keneh stole into Viola's refrains. + +On that sunny afternoon in April, as we took tea in our tiny and +gimcrack drawing-room together, Viola and I felt in the best of +spirits. + +"Captain Lawton and Mr. and Mrs. Dixon are coming in to dinner +to-night," Viola remarked. "Lawton tells me he saw the manager +yesterday, and the piece seems getting on all right." + +"I am very glad," I answered. "Do you know, Viola, a Roman girl called +here this morning, and wanted me to take her on as a model. She's +very good. I think I'd better secure her, if ... if...." + +"If what...?" asked Viola smiling. + +"Well, if you don't mind," I answered, colouring. + +"Mind? I? No, dearest Trevor. Of course not. You must want a new model +by now. Do engage her by all means. Is she good altogether?" + +"I don't know. I have only seen her face yet. That's very lovely. +Veronica she calls herself. I thought, anyway, she would do splendidly +for the head." + +"What a piece of good luck she should come now. You were just wanting +a model for your Roman Forum picture," returned Viola. And then the +matter dropped, for some women came in to tea and broke off the +conversation. + +At eleven o'clock the next morning I was in my studio, awaiting +Veronica. I was pleased, interested, elated. The girl was really +beautiful, and the sight of beauty exhilarates and animates like wine. + +She was very punctual and came confidently into the room as the clock +struck. The cold morning light through a north window fell upon her +and instead of the light warming the face as so often happens, her +face seemed to warm the light. She was about sixteen, with a skin of +velvet, dark, quite dark, but clear as wine, and with a wonderful red +flush glowing through the cheek; the eyes were brilliant, brown to +blackness, but full of fire and lustre; her hair, dark as midnight, +clustered and fell about her face in soft curls. The nose was dainty, +refined, with perfect nostrils, the mouth deepest red and curved with +the most tender, seducing lines. I had never seen such a face. The +beauty of it was glorious, to an artist awe-inspiring. + +I stood gazing at her, delighted, spellbound, and the young person +keenly observed my admiration. She smiled, revealing true Italian +teeth, exquisite, white, and perfect. + +"I am Veronica Bernandini," she said. "I have two hours to spare in +the morning and three in the afternoon." + +My first thought was not to let any other artist have her; not till I +had painted her at any rate and startled London with her face. + +"Are you sitting to any one else?" I asked mechanically. + +"No. I give the rest of my time to my family. We are very poor. My +mother and father are old. I am their sole support." + +I waved my hand impatiently. All models tell you that. One gets so +tired of it. + +"What do you want an hour? I will take all your time. You must not sit +to any one else." + +Her eyes gleamed, and the lovely crimson mouth pouted. + +"Five shillings an hour if you take the five hours a day," she +answered. + +"I suppose you know that's double the ordinary price?" I said smiling. +"However, I don't mind. I'll pay you if I find you sit well. Take off +your hat now and sit down--anywhere. I want just to make a rough +sketch of your head." + +She obeyed, and I drew out some large paper sheets and found a piece +of charcoal. Sitting down opposite her, I gazed at her meditatively. +Now that her hat had been removed I could see the extraordinary wealth +and beauty of her hair. It was black with lights of red and gold fire +in it, and fell in its own natural waves and curls and clusters all +about her small head and smooth white forehead. + +What about a Bacchante? She was a perfect study for that. I always +imagined--perhaps from seeing antiques, where it is so represented, +that the head of a Bacchante should have hair like this; and it is +rare enough in English models. Suppose I made a large picture--The +Death of Pentheus--the king in Euripides' tragedy of the Bacchæ who in +his efforts to put down the Bacchanalia was slain by the enraged +Bacchantes. Suppose I put this one in the foreground.... But then it +seemed a pity to spoil such a lovely face with a look of rage.... +Well, anyway, let me have a sketch first, and see what inspiration +came to me. I got up and looked amongst my odd possessions for a +vine-leaf wreath I had. When I found it and some ivy leaves, I came +back to her and fastened them round her head, in and out of those +wonderful vine-like tendrils of hair. She sat demurely enough and very +still while I did so, but when I wanted to unfasten the ugly modern +bodice and turn it down from her throat so as to get the head well +poised and free, she pressed her lips on my hand as it passed round +her neck. + +I drew my hand away. + +"Don't be silly, or I shan't employ you," I said with some annoyance. + +She pushed out her crimson lips. + +"You are too handsome to be an artist; they are mostly such guys." + +"Hush, be quiet now, be still," I said, moving back from her to see if +I had the effect I wanted. I felt with a sudden rush of delight I had. +The face was just perfect now: the head a little inclined, the leaves +in the glossy hair, no more exact image of the idea the word Bacchante +always formed in my mind could be imagined. + +I sketched her head in rapidly. I made two or three draughts of it in +charcoal, then I got my colours and did a rough study of it in colour. +Her neck, like that of almost all Italians, was a shade too short, but +round and lovely in shape and colour. The time passed unnoticed, and +it was only when the luncheon gong sounded I realised how long I had +been at work. + +I sprang up and gathered the sheets of paper together. + +"That's all now," I said. "I'll take you again three to six. Are you +tired?" I added, as she got up rather slowly and took up her hat. + +"No," she answered, shaking her head. "All that was sitting down; +that's easy." + +Her voice sounded flat, but I was too hurried to take much notice of +it. I wanted to get down to show Viola the work. + +"Well, three o'clock then," I repeated, and ran downstairs. + +Viola was waiting in the dining-room, but not at the table. I went +over to the window where she was standing, and showed her the +sketches. + +"Oh, Trevor, how lovely; how perfectly beautiful!" she exclaimed, +gazing at the charcoal head. + +"You have done that well, and what a glorious face!" + +I flushed with pleasure. + +"I'm so glad you like it. Come up this afternoon and see the model, +see me work. Say you're out, and let's have tea in the studio." + +"Very well," she answered as the luncheon came in; "I'll say we want +tea up there. What a good idea to make her a Bacchante; it's the very +face for it." + +"Suppose I took her as a Bacchante dancing, the whole figure I mean, +nude, under a canopy of vine leaves, make all the background, +everything, green vines with clusters of purple grapes, and then have +her dancing down the sort of avenue towards the foreground, with the +light pouring down through the leaves. How do you think that would +be?" + +"I should think it would be lovely," Viola answered slowly, with a +little sigh. + +I looked across at her quickly. + +"You would like to be my only model for the body?" I said gently, +keeping my eyes on her face. + +"No, Trevor, I really don't want to be selfish, and I do think you +should have another, only...." + +"Yes, only...?" + +"Well, when a woman is in love she does so long to be able to assume +all sorts of different forms, to be different women, so as to always +please and amuse and satisfy the man she loves. How delightful it +would be if one could change! One can be pretty, one can be amiable, +clever, charming, anything, but one cannot be different from oneself; +one must be the same, one can't get away from that." + +I laughed. + +"I don't want you to be different. I should be overwhelmed if you +suddenly changed into some one else! And whatever models I have, you +will always be the best. There could not be another such perfect +figure as yours." + +Viola smiled, but an absent look came into her face. + +After luncheon we both went up to the studio together, and Viola was +ensconced in my armchair when Veronica's knock came on the door. + +I said, "Come in," and she entered with the confident air of the +morning. Directly she saw Viola, however, she seemed to stiffen with +resentment, and stood still by the door. + +"Come in," I repeated, "and shut the door." + +Viola looked at her kindly and laid down the charcoal sketch in her +lap. + +"I have been looking at your head here and thinking it so beautiful," +she said gently. + +Veronica only stared at her a little ungraciously in return, and took +off her hat in silence. + +I put her back into position, re-arranged the fillet on her head, and +set to work to complete the colour study. + +We worked in unbroken silence till tea was brought up at four. Viola +rose to make it, and I told the girl to get up and move about if she +liked, and I set the canvas aside to dry. Viola offered the girl a cup +of tea, but she refused it and went and sat under the window on an old +couch, leaving us by the table. + +The canvas was a success in a way so far, but the great sweetness of +the expression in the charcoal sketch of the morning was not there. + +When tea was over I went up to Veronica and told her I must leave the +canvas of the head to dry, I could not work more on it then, and asked +her if she would pose for me as the Bacchante dancing. I wanted to see +if she would do for a larger picture. + +I got no answer for a minute. Veronica looked down and began to pull +at the faded fringe of an old cushion. + +At last I repeated my question. + +"Not while _she's_ here," she muttered in a low, fierce tone. + +I was surprised at the resentment in look and voice. + +"Nonsense," I said with some annoyance. "You can pose before her as +well as before me." + +Veronica did not answer, only pulled in sullen silence at the cushion. + +"You are wasting my time," I said impatiently. + +Veronica looked through the window. + +"I shan't take off my clothes before her," she muttered defiantly. + +I turned away from her in annoyance and approached Viola who had not +moved from her chair on the other side of the room. She sprang up and +came to meet me. + +"She objects to my being here?" she said quickly. "Is it bothering +you? Because, if it is, I'll go; that'll settle it." + +"It's awfully stupid. I'm so sorry, Viola; it's so idiotic of her." + +Viola smiled brightly up at me. + +"Never mind, I'll go. You'll be down soon, now." + +I held the door open for her, and with a smiling nod at me she passed +through and went down the stairs. I waited till her bright head had +disappeared, and then closed the door and went back to Veronica. + +"Now," I said, "Mrs. Lonsdale has left us. Will you get up and stand +as I want you to? Or do you want me to dismiss you?" + +I felt extremely angry and annoyed. My heart beat violently. Viola had +come there by my invitation, she had deprived herself of any possible +society for the afternoon, and now had been practically turned out by +this impertinent little model. + +Veronica got sulkily up from the couch and began to undress in +silence. + +I walked away and flung myself into the armchair Viola had vacated, +and picked up the charcoal sketch. + +How sweet the face was in that! And yet what an awful little devil the +girl on the couch had looked. + +I was so accustomed to Viola's unfailing either good temper or +self-command, that I was beginning to forget women had bad tempers as +well as men. + +After a minute or two Veronica came over to me; she had let her hair +down, and it fell prettily on her shoulders. I laid down the charcoal +sketches and looked at her critically as she approached. + +Her figure had all the beauty of great plumpness and youthfulness. +Every contour was round and full, and yet firm. Her body was beautiful +in the sense that all healthy, sound, young, well-formed things are, +but there was, as it were, no soul in the beauty, nothing transcendent +in any of the lines or in the colour. It was something essentially of +earth, un-dreamlike, appealing to the senses, and to them alone. + +I was struck with the great contrast it presented to the form of +Viola, which was so wonderfully ethereal, so divine in colour and +design. Every line in it was long and tapering, never coming to a +sudden stop, but merging with infinite grace into the next, and the +dazzling, immaculate whiteness of it all made it seem like something +of heaven. It suggested the vision, the ideal, all that man longs +after with his soul, that stirs the celestial fires within his brain, +not merely the flame of the senses. + +In the form before me, the lines were short and often abrupt, the +curves quick and expressionless; it would do capitally for the +"Bacchante," it would not have served for a moment for the "Soul of +the Wood." + +The girl was smiling now, and appeared quite amiable. Most people are +when they have got their own way. She asked me if I thought she would +do. + +"Yes, I think you will. Stand back there, please, against that green +curtain. Now put one foot forward as if you were advancing. Yes, +that's right; lift both your arms up over your head." + +I got up to give her a hoop of wire to hold as an arch over her, and +put a spray of artificial ivy over it. + +"That'll do. Now stand still, and let's see how that works out." + +The girl posed well. Evidently she was a model of considerable +practice, and I obtained an excellent sketch before a quarter to six, +when she said she must leave off and dress. + +She did so in silence, while I studied my own work. When she had her +hat on I looked up and asked her if she wanted to be paid. + +"No," she answered, "we'll leave it till the end of the week. +Good-bye." + +"Good-bye," I said, and she went out. I laid the sketch on the table +beside me, and sat thinking. A sudden blankness fell upon me as I +stood mentally opposite this new idea that had never presented itself +to me in the same form before, that in my former easy, wandering +existence I had always welcomed a beautiful model, not only for the +gain to my art, but because of the incidental pleasure it might bring +me. But now I realised suddenly that this girl's beauty brought me no +elation. _It was not any use_, and in a flash I saw, too, that no +woman now, no beauty could be any use to me ever any more, for I was +not a single irresponsible existence any longer, but involved with +another which was sacred to me. + +How often in the past, when entangled in some light _liaison_, I had +wished for deeper, stronger emotions, something to wake the mind and +stir the soul! Then in my love for Viola I had found all these and +welcomed them madly. She had stirred my whole sleeping being into +flame, and given me those keener and stronger desires of the brain, +and satisfied them; and till now it had seemed to me that this passion +for her was a free gift from the hands of Fate. Now, suddenly, I saw +that the gift had its price. That, after all, there was something to +be said for those light free loves of the past. That some joy had been +taken out of life, now those glittering trifles, toys of the senses, +were taken from me, made impossible. + +For the first time I realised that a great passion has its yoke, and +that, in return for the great joy it gives, it demands and takes one's +freedom. + +I sat motionless, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden blaze of light +that the simple incident of this model's advent had thrown on an +obscure psychological fact. + +I saw now that my love for Viola was not wholly a gain, not something +extra added to my life's-cup that made it full to overflowing, but, as +always in this life, something had been taken away as well as added. + +I felt as a child might feel who was presented with a magnificent gift +with which he was overjoyed, but who on taking it to the nursery to +add to his other treasures, saw his nurse locking these all away from +him for ever in a glass case above his reach. + +As the child might, I hugged my new gift to me and delighted in it, +but I could not help feeling regret for those other small, glittering +toys with which I had formerly played so much, now shut away behind +the deadly glass pane of conscience. + +It was not that Veronica appealed to me specially. I did not feel I +cared whether she came to the studio again or not except for the +picture, but the great principle involved, now that I was face to face +with it, appalled me. + +Viola had sought to leave me free, by refusing marriage with me; but, +after all, what difference does the mere nominal tie make? + +The essential attribute of a great passion--something that cannot be +eliminated from it--is the chain of fidelity it forges round its +prisoners. + +I do not know how long I sat there, but at last I rose mechanically, +put the sheets of paper together, and went downstairs. + +As I came to the drawing-room door I heard that Viola was playing. +The door stood ajar, and silently I entered and took my seat behind +her. She was improvising, just playing as the inspiration came to her, +and wholly absorbed and unconscious of my presence. There was a great +glass facing her, in which her whole image was reflected, and had she +glanced into it she must have seen me; but she did not. Her eyes gazed +out before her, wrapt, delighted; her face was quite white, her lips +parted in a little smile. + +I saw she was under the influence of her music and absolutely happy, +full of joy, such as I could never give her. A great jealousy ran +through me, kindling all that passion I had for her. The thoughts and +reflections of an hour back seemed swept out of mind like dead leaves +before a storm. No other lighter loves could give me one-tenth of the +emotion that the pursuit and conquest of this strange soul could do. +For I had not conquered it. It was absorbed in, and lived in mysteries +of joy that its art alone could give it, and I was outside--almost a +stranger to it. + +The thought burnt and stung me, and the fire of it wrapped round me as +I sat watching her. That body, so slim, so perfect, she had given me, +but I wanted more, I wanted that inner spirit to be mine, I wanted to +conquer that. + +I watched her in a fierce, jealous anger, almost as I might have done +seeing her caressed by another lover, she was so wonderfully happy, so +independent of me, so unconscious of me; but man loves that which is +above him, difficult to obtain, hard to pursue. We cannot help it. We +are made to be hunters, and I felt I loved Viola then with fresh +passion. + +Some time or other I would succeed in breaking through that charmed +circle in which she lived, in making her yield up to me the spiritual +maidenhood which, as it were, was hers. + +I would be first and last and everything to her, and not even her art +should count beside me. + +I closed my eyes and put my head back on the couch where I was sitting +and gave myself up to listening to the music. + +How the instrument answered her! What a divine melody rose from it, +floating gently on the air like quivering wings. + +Then suddenly came a storm of passion, and the room was filled with a +tempest of sound, while one strong thread of melody low down in the +bass ran through it all and seemed a fierce reproach of one in +anguish. At last one sheet of sound seemed to sweep the piano from end +to end, a cry of dismay, of pain, the woe and grief of one who sees +his world shattered suddenly before his eyes; then there was silence. +I sprang up and clasped her in my arms. + +"Trevor," she exclaimed, like one awakening from a dream; "I had no +idea you were there." + +"No," I said savagely; "you were so absorbed, you never noticed me +come in." + +"Well, I heard the model go, and I waited and waited for you to come +down; but you were so long I turned to the piano to console me." + +"Which it did quite well, apparently," I answered. + +A sweet, tender look came over her face, and she stretched out her +arms to me. + +"Nothing could wholly console me for your absence," she said; "and you +know that quite well; but the music always helps me to bear it." + +I drew her to me and strained her close up to me in silence, longing +to conquer, to come into union with that mysterious inner something we +call the Soul. + +Yet in this unconquerable quality, in this pursuit of that which +always escapes from our most passionate embraces, man finds an +inexhaustible delight. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +FREEDOM + + +The weeks slipped by, and I worked hard at the painting, while Viola +gave herself up to the music and all the work that the approaching +production of her opera gave her. Our evenings were always spent +together. We set aside two evenings in the week for our friends, +giving only small dinners of eight or ten. On the other evenings when +we were not dining out ourselves we went to the opera, and supper +after. + +I often wondered whether there was anything or nothing in the fact +that we were not married to each other, which affected our feelings +and relations to each other. Does that conventional bond make some +subtle difference, just by its existence; and did that account for the +fact that we seemed to find a greater delight in each other's society, +a greater need of each other than the average husband and wife do; or +was it only because we happened to be two who had met and really loved +more than most people do, and had we been married, we should have felt +the same? + +Certainly we were looked upon as peculiar because, being married, we +were so much together. + +The true explanation is perhaps that, as a rule, the people who love +do not marry, and those who marry do not love. + +Coming home from our supper after the opera, I felt the same +passionate delight in Viola as that first evening when I had driven +her to my studio. Waking in the dawn to find her sleeping on my arm, I +had the same joyous elation as I had known under the thatched roof, +during our first stay together. Unfortunately, however, a great +passion for one object does not necessarily exclude lesser passions, +or, rather, passing fancies of the senses for other objects. It is +generally supposed that it does, but my experience is rather to the +contrary. + +With women possibly it may do so oftener than with men, but extreme +constancy, absolute exclusiveness is not the natural product of a +great passion. It is a question rather of sentiment and artificial +restraint. + +Nature is not on the side of sentiment. She is always a prodigal, with +the one great aim before her of ensuring the continuance of the race. + +Consequently, when a man is already loving one object with all his +force, it is not Nature's plan to make him turn from all others by +instinct. No, she is ever ready with others, ever rather prompting +him, leading him towards others, in order that, should accident or +death remove his first mate, others should not be wanting, and her +great scheme should not be spoiled nor interrupted. + +Nature is always on a grand scale, always acting in and for the +plural, never for the singular. + +Does she want one oak to survive, she throws on the ground a million +acorns for that purpose. + +Man she has fitted to love not one, but hundreds, and our senses act +automatically and are always on the side of Nature. It is the mind +alone that man has taught to act against her, and that demands and +gives fidelity in love. + +A woman's attitude towards a second lover, when she is deeply in love +with the first, is not so often "I don't want him," as "It would +grieve my first lover, therefore I will not take him." + +A man, when offered a second mistress, usually thinks "I will take +her, but I mustn't let the first one know." In both it is the anxiety +of Nature that neither should be left mateless, part of her tremendous +scheme of insurance against mischance. + +And all this great love and passion which I had for Viola, passion +which exhausted me almost to the point sometimes of being unable to +work, did not seal my senses against the beauty of Veronica--beauty I +painted daily in the studio. + +I used to enjoy the afternoon spent there now with a different +pleasure from that of work merely. The sensuous attraction had become +very great, and I was beginning to feel it was not innocent and to +half-long for, half-dread an interruption, something to break through +it, end it. + +Veronica professed to have fallen in love with me. It is rather a +trick of models to do this. They think it can do no harm, and possibly +extra benefits to themselves may accrue. Perhaps she was in love with +me, if a mere covetousness of the senses can be called love. This she +had, and from the first she had determined to subdue me. Her ruse of +the first day had succeeded. Viola had never again come to the studio +while she was there, and so hour after hour we were alone together +undisturbed. I kept hard at work the whole time, hardly exchanging a +word with her, and would go downstairs for tea with Viola; but she +employed her eyes continually to tell her story, and caught my hand +and kissed it whenever she was able. + +Just at first I felt only amusement and annoyance. Then gradually I +used to expect the soft look to come into the beautiful eyes, the +touch of the warm lips on my hand began to stir and thrill me. I felt +a vague dislike and distrust of the girl mentally, I thought she was +vain, selfish, mercenary, revengeful, and bad-tempered, but with all +that Nature had nothing to do. Her servants, the senses, submitted to +the youth and beauty of the newcomer, and that was all Nature cared +about. + +One afternoon she was posing as usual, and I was painting, deeply +absorbed, on the picture of the "Bacchante" when her voice suddenly +disturbed me. + +"May I move just for a minute?" + +"Certainly," I exclaimed, looking up and laying down my brush. + +The girl laid down her spray of ivy-leaves, walked across the space +intervening between us, and, before I was aware of her intention, +threw her arms round my neck and kissed me. + +The kiss seemed to burn my lips, but with the current of passion I +also felt a storm of anger against her. I sprang up and seized her +shoulders, pushing her away from me. + +"Don't, Trevor, don't, you are hurting me; you are hurting my +shoulders," she exclaimed, the tears starting to her eyes. + +I took my hands from her arms, and saw my grasp had left deep marks of +crimson on them. + +"Go and get dressed then, and go," I said furiously; "I'm not going to +paint any more." I pushed my chair away and threw the palette and +brushes on to the table near. + +Veronica shrank from me and turned pale. In that moment the intense +beauty of the face and figure was borne in upon me, she clung as if +for support to the easel with one soft hand, all the youthful body +seemed to shrink together in a beautiful dismay, great tears rolled +down the cheeks from the dark reproachful eyes. I saw it all for one +moment, feeling the anger sinking down under that strange influence +that beauty has upon us. But I would not look at her. I turned my back +on her and went over to the window, hardly conscious of what I did. I +stood there for a few moments; then, suddenly, there came a cry and +the sound of a fall behind me. I looked round and saw her lying, a +little crushed heap, by the couch where she usually dressed. + +I sprang forward, full of self-reproach. How foolish I had been! So +unnecessarily harsh! I went to her. In obedience to my order, she had +put some of her clothes on, and now lay there senseless apparently and +quite white, her arms, still bare, stretched out on the floor beside +her. She looked so pretty, so small, round, and helpless, that my +heart went out to her. I felt I had been such a brute. As I stooped +over her to raise her I saw the great crimson bruises I had left on +her arms. + +I picked her up and put her on the couch. She lay there quite still, +pale, her eyes closed, unconscious. + +I pushed the hair off her forehead, and, dipping my handkerchief into +a glass of water on the table, pressed it on to her head. I was +kneeling by the couch. The sweet, little, rounded face, the soft +unconscious body lay just beneath my eyes. + +She opened her eyes slowly: + +"Trevor, do forgive me," she whispered, and smiled up at me just a +little, opening the curved lips; "do say you forgive me, give me one +kiss." + +In the violent reaction of feeling, in the torrent of self-reproach +for being so hard on a child like this, the senses conquered, I put my +head down, and kissed her passionately, far more passionately from +that great reaction of preceding anger, on her lips. + +"Dear, dear little girl, are you better?" + +She threw her arms round me. + +"Oh, Trevor, I do love you so, I do love you, I do love you." + +Full of that great delight, so transient, so baseless, so unreasoning, +yet so great, which the senses give us, of that passion in which the +mind has no part, that passes over us as the wind ruffles the surface +of the lake without moving the depths below, I kissed her over and +over again, and pressed her to me, soft shoulders and undone hair and +wounded arms. + +The next moment the vision of Viola came before my brain, and I rose +to my feet. Veronica caught at my hand, and, raising it to her lips, +kissed it in a tempest of passion. I drew it away-- + +"Get up and finish your dressing," I said very gently. "This sort of +thing can do you no good, Veronica. It will only mean that I cannot +let you come to the studio at all." + +Veronica rose from the couch obediently and resumed her dressing. She +gave me somehow the impression she was satisfied at having broken down +my self-control, and hoped to win me over further by extreme docility. +I walked away to the window, angry with myself, and yet angry again +that that anger should be necessary. I had always been so free till +now, able to gratify the fancy of the moment. This need for +self-restraint was new and irritating. + +Veronica came up to me when she was dressed, and asked for a parting +kiss. I gave it, and she went away with a demure and sad little sigh. + +When I came down from the studio I went at once to our bedroom to +dress. We were dining early and going out after, and I knew I had not +much time. Viola was not there; she had dressed evidently and gone +down. Sometimes she would be sitting in the armchair at the foot of +the bed waiting for me, but to-night she had gone down. + +I walked about the room, quickly collecting my evening things and +thinking. Why did I, now that I had left Veronica, feel self-reproach +and regret at what had passed? What was a kiss? It was ridiculous to +think of it twice. + +I ran downstairs and found Viola as I had expected in the +drawing-room. In her white dinner-gown and with a few violet pansies +at her breast, she looked, I thought, particularly charming. She +smiled as I came in, but when I approached to kiss her as was usual +between us after the shortest absences, she got up, almost started up +and moved away from me. + +"Don't kiss me! I am so afraid you will crush my flowers." + +I stopped disconcerted; she coloured slightly and took a chair further +from me, I flung myself into one close to me. + +It was so unlike Viola to resist any advance of mine, and on such a +score, that it astonished me. Often and often I had hesitated when she +had been in some of her magnificent toilettes to clasp her to me for +fear of disturbing the wonderful creations, and had been laughingly +derided for so doing. + +"Your kiss is worth a dozen dresses," she would say, and crush me to +her in spite of whatever laces or jewels might lie between; and such +words had been very dear to me. + +This phrase now, usual with many women, unheard before from her, +struck me. The blood rushed to my head for a moment as the thought +came--she have seen or heard in any possible way the scene in the +studio? and then I dismissed it as quite impossible. It was +coincidence, merely that. She could know nothing. Then, staring away +from her into the little fire, I thought suddenly--"Is not this the +most despicable, the worst part of all infidelity, this deceit it +must bring with it? The lies, either spoken or tacit, to which it +gives birth?" + +There were only a few moments and then the bell called us to dinner. + +Viola was just as sweet and charming as usual through the meal and +after, both during the theatre party to which we went, and when we +were driving home together. + +The next morning when we were at breakfast alone she said in a very +earnest tone: + +"Trevor, you will be careful about that model of yours, won't you?" + +I raised my eyebrows. + +"How do you mean?" + +"Don't let her draw you into anything you don't really want to do. Be +a little on your guard with her. You know how detestable some women +can be. They try to make men compromise themselves, and then worry +them afterwards." + +"I should think I ought to be able to take care of myself," I replied. +Of course I was annoyed, and showed it. + +"Well," said Viola, getting up from the table, "it is difficult when a +girl is as beautiful as that and you are shut up for hours alone with +her. When do you think the picture will be finished?" + +"I don't know at all," I said, feeling more and more annoyed. "I +shall probably keep her on for another after it." + +This was a pure invention of my anger at the moment, for I had fully +resolved last night to get rid of Veronica and as soon as possible, +and never see her again; but I objected to what seemed to me +interference. + +Viola turned paler almost than the cloth before us. + +"Do you really wish to do so?" she asked. + +"Yes," I said coldly. "Have you any objection?" + +"Yes, I think it would be a great pity," she replied quietly. "You +will get so drawn to her, so interested in her, it will come between +us." + +I looked at her in amaze and anger. Was this all coincidence? It must +be. How could she possibly know what had occurred? + +We are nearly all of us beasts to women when they appeal to us. Had +the position been reversed and had I been speaking to Viola as she was +to me, she would have been all sweetness, accepting my jealous anxiety +as a compliment, recognising how sure a sign of passion it is. + +"All this seems very childish and silly," I answered. "Veronica is +nothing to me but a model and will never be anything than that. I +shall keep her as long as I want her, and dismiss her when I choose. I +don't want to discuss the matter again with you." + +Viola waited till I had finished speaking, then when I ceased, she +inclined her head and went out, shutting the door noiselessly behind +her. + +In that moment even of anger against her, a great throb of admiration +beat through me. Her attitude as she waited by the door, one hand +clasping the handle, her face turned towards me, was so perfect, the +acquiescence so graceful and dignified; but it was only for a moment, +the anger closed over the impulse of love again, and I walked up and +down the room full of resentment. + +"Why should one," I muttered, "just because one loves one woman, never +be supposed to kiss another, why should there be all this hateful, +jealous tyranny? It is better to be free, as one is as a bachelor, and +do what one likes, just take everything as it comes along." + +Then it recurred to me suddenly that I was not married, not tied in +any way, I was free, and the remembrance came, too, why it was +so--that Viola herself had refused to take my freedom from me. + +"Then when I use it to amuse myself for an hour or two this is the +result," I thought stormily, trying to keep angry with Viola. "It's as +bad as being married." + +I tried to feel Viola was quite in the wrong, a tiresome, +unreasonable, jealous person; but irresistibly my thoughts modified +themselves, sobered by that sudden recollection that I was not bound +to her nor she to me. Perhaps I should not have to complain of her +tyranny very long. Waves of memory rolled over me against my will, +memories of the wonderful passion that existed between us, something +that went down to the roots of my being, that shook me to the very +depths, as different as the day from the night from my passing fancy +for Veronica's beauty. My mind went back to the first night at the +studio; I had never felt anything for any other woman that could +approach my feelings for her. She was so different from all the +others. I had known a good many, and they all seemed very much alike, +but Viola stood alone amongst them. + +After a few minutes' more reflection, I went to look for her. I +thought I would try to soften the effect of my last words to her, but +I could not find her, and full of a sense of dissatisfaction, I went +on at last upstairs to the studio. + +When Veronica came into the room I realised the full extent of my +folly the previous afternoon. Hitherto her manner had been respectful +and demure enough on the surface, though always with a suggestion of +veiled insolent self-confidence. Now the veil was thrown off, she was +assured of herself, and showed it. + +She came up to me, kissed me as a matter of course, and when I barely +returned the kiss, she laughed openly and said coolly. + +"What's the matter, Trevor? Viola been lecturing you?" + +To hear her use Viola's name seemed to freeze me. + +"Be quiet," I said sharply. + +The girl merely made a grimace and began to take off her hat and let +down her hair. + +The morning passed dully. I did not paint well. The impersonal state +of mind in which alone good artistic work can be produced was not with +me. + +When I went down to luncheon I found Viola looking very pale and ill. +This made me feel cross. Ill-health very rarely excites pity or +sympathy in men, but nearly always a feeling of vexation and +annoyance. "Why should she worry herself?" I asked myself angrily, +"when there was nothing to worry about." + +She had generally a very warm pink colour glowing in her face, which +disappeared if anything worried or grieved her. It was gone now, and I +knew it was my words of the morning that had driven it away. + +"I looked for you this morning before I went up to paint," I said; +"but couldn't find you." + +"I am so sorry," she answered with a quick smile. "What did you want +me for?" + +"To tell you you needn't worry about Veronica. She is absolutely +nothing to me." + +"Then, if she is, why will you not send her away, or at least when the +'Bacchante' is finished?" + +"Because I don't see any necessity," I answered. "Besides, if I get +any other model you would feel the same, wouldn't you, about her?" + +"Any model you kissed and desired. Yes, certainly." + +We were both standing now facing each other. Viola was deadly pale, as +she always became in any conflict with me. + +I stood silent for a moment. + +I could not understand how she knew and could speak so definitely, but +I could not lie and deny it, so I said nothing. + +"Do you mean that I am never to kiss another woman as long as I live?" +I asked, a shade of derision coming into my voice. + +"No, only as long as we are what we are to each other." + +A chill fell upon me. I could not think of a time when she would not +be with me, could not face the idea of change. + +The light fell across her very bright and waving hair, and caught the +tips of her eyelashes and fell all round her exquisite, girlish +figure, full of that wonderful grace I had never seen in any other. + +"It is a pity to make your love, which otherwise would be such a +divine pleasure, a thing of restraint and fetters," I said slowly. + +"But it is a mutual obligation in love," she said in a very low tone. +"It must be so. You would not wish me to kiss any of the men who come +here, would you? They often ask me to." + +Her words gave me suddenly such a sense of surprise and shock, it was +almost as if she had struck me in the eyes. + +"_No_," I said involuntarily, the instinct within me speaking without +thought. + +"Well, that is what I say," answered Viola gently. "A great passion +has its fetters. I don't see how it can be helped. You can have the +promiscuous loves of all the women you meet, or you can have the +absolute devotion of one; but I don't see how you can have the two." + +My heart beat, and the blood seemed going up to my head, confusing my +reason. I felt angry because I knew she was right. + +"Well, really it seems that the first might be better if one's life is +to be so limited." + +Viola did not answer at all. I turned and walked towards the window +and stood looking out for a few minutes. When I turned round the room +was empty. + +I went up to the studio, but again I could not paint. The pale, +unhappy face of Viola came between me and the picture. + +To Veronica I hardly spoke. Her beauty neither attracted nor even +pleased me. She was the cause of all this vague cloud rising up in my +life, which had hitherto been intensely happy and allowed me to do +the very best in my art. + +Her efforts to attract me and to draw me from my work only annoyed and +irritated me, and when I went down to tea I told her to go, that I +should not paint afterwards. + +No one happened to be calling that afternoon, so Viola and I were +alone. There was hardly any constraint between us even after what had +passed at luncheon. We were so much one, so intimate, mentally as well +as physically, that we could not quarrel with each other any more than +one can quarrel with oneself. One can be cross with oneself +occasionally, but not for long. + +We neither of us referred to Veronica or anything disagreeable, but +gave ourselves up to the joy of each other's society. When I told her +I was not going back to paint she was delighted, and we planned to +dine early and go to the Empire after. + +The ballet seemed to amuse her, and when we returned and went up to +our room she was in the lightest and gayest of spirits. This room was +the only one in the house in the furnishing of which Viola had taken +the slightest interest. In all the others she had allowed things to +stand just as we found them, just as our landlord had thought good to +leave them, but in this one much had been added to the contents +written down in the inventory and so much altered that our landlord +would indeed have been astonished if he had suddenly looked in. The +bed was a triumph of artistic skill, designed and arranged under her +own directions, the curtains enclosing it were delicate in colouring +and so soft in fabric that the bed seemed enveloped in a mass of blue +clouds, gold-lined, and all the sheets and clothing were filmy and +lace-edged, and must have been the despair of the steam laundry; a +blue silk covering, the colour of her own eyes, and embroidered with +pale pink roses, gold-centred, reposed on it, matching the curtains, +and an electric lamp shaded in rose colour depended from the French +crown above the head; a lamp which flooded the bed with light when all +the curtains were drawn and shut out the lights of the room. The +carpet was blue also, and the heavy curtains over all the windows +matched it, edged with, and embroidered in gold. + +The toilet-table, though simple enough in its arrangements, for Viola +needed no cosmetics, no lotions, no manicure nor other evil +inventions, was always a lovely object. On its pale rose covering lay +her gold-backed brushes and comb, her gold hand-mirror with cupids +playing on it, her little gold boxes of pins, and always vases of +fresh geraniums, white and rose-pink. Out of the room at one side +opened a smaller one, it was not used as a chapel nor yet as a +dressing-room. We dressed together and took pleasure in so doing, as +we did in everything that threw us into intimate companionship. We had +no need of dressing-rooms since there were no teeth to come in and +out, no wigs to be taken off and put on, no secrets on either side to +be jealously guarded from one another. No, the room opening out of +ours was a supper-room, where, when we came back late from opera or +theatre, we could always count on finding cold supper and champagne. I +went in to-night and turned on all the lights, which were many, while +Viola laid aside her dress and slipped into a dressing-gown, something +as fragile and beautiful as a rose-leaf, suiting her delicate, elusive +beauty. She followed me into the little supper-room, and as I turned +and saw her on the threshold, the delicacy of the whole vision struck +me. A pain shot into my heart suddenly. Supposing I ever lost her? Saw +her fade from me? + +Her eyes were wide-open and laughing, a faint colour glowed in the +white transparent skin, the lips were a light scarlet, parted now from +the milky teeth. + +I made two steps forwards and caught her and crushed her up tightly to +my breast and kissed her and made her sit on my knee while I poured +out some champagne. + +"Now drink that," I commanded; "you look as if you needed something +material. You look like a vision that may vanish from me into thin +air." + +Viola laughed and drank the wine. + +"Trevor," she said reflectively, as if following up some train of +thought she had been pursuing already a long time. "What heaps of +wonderfully beautiful girls and women we saw to-night. Wouldn't you +like some of them?" + +I laughed. + +"Some of them! Supposing you send me up a dozen or two?" + +"No, but really I was thinking as I sat there to-night, how pretty +they were, and how varied. I can quite understand how a man would like +to try them all." + +"You would object, I am afraid," I said gravely. "You object even to +Veronica." + +"I know. I don't think it's possible to do otherwise. I shouldn't love +you if I didn't. But if you gave me up you could have all these +others." + +"Well, you see, it is the other way; I have given them all up for +you." + +"I know, but is it wise for your own happiness? I thought about it a +great deal to-night." + +"Women like that can give one only the simple pleasure of the senses. +It is very much the same with them all; but with you there is some +extraordinary passion created in the brain as well as in the senses, +that makes it a different thing." + +"I am so glad," she murmured, leaning her arms on the table and +looking at me with eyes absorbed and abstracted. + +"There is no single thing in this world I would not do to give you +pleasure, to delight and satisfy you. I have never refused you +anything, have I?" + +"Never." + +And it was true. She never had refused me anything it was in her power +to give. Still she held something that was not yet mine; the inner +spirit of the Soul. + + * * * * * + +Days passed and things continued in the same way. I had not the +strength of mind to dismiss Veronica, to deprive myself of that +subtle, delicious pleasure that lay in her soft kisses, in the bloom +of her beauty, in her professed devotion to myself. The Bacchante was +not quite finished, so that gave me the outward excuse. The excuse I +put forward to myself was that Viola could not possibly know what I +felt for the girl nor what I did, and so it could not hurt her. + +Veronica made no secret of her wishes to tie me more closely to her +still. But, in spite of the clamour of the senses, there was something +within me or round me that held me irresistibly from this. + +All that I had done already I knew that Viola would forgive, even +though it grieved and distressed her. If I went further I did not +know that she would ever forgive, and that made an insurmountable +barrier that nothing Veronica could do or say could break down. + +The weeks slipped by and brought us to the date when Viola's operetta +was to be produced. On the evening which she had so looked forward to, +now it had come, she seemed tired and spiritless, and we dressed for +dinner almost in silence. Captain Lawton and another man who had +helped in the production of the piece were dining with us, and we were +then going on to our box at the theatre. + +At dinner Viola seemed to regain some of her old gay spirits, and the +light rose colour I loved crept back into her cheeks as she laughed +and talked with Lawton seated on her right hand. I had always thought +him a particularly handsome fellow, and to-night it struck me suddenly +what an extremely attractive man he must be in a woman's eyes. He was +dark and a little sunburnt from being in South Africa, and, combined +with really beautiful features and a fine figure, he had that dashing +grace of carriage, that unaffected simple manner of the soldier, which +even by itself has a charm of its own. + +I looked at Viola curiously, and wondered how she felt towards this +man who was so obviously in love with her. Whether it moved her at all +to see those dark eyes fill with fire as she smiled at him, to know +that the whole of this engaging personality was hers if she chose to +stretch out her hand and claim it. + +The dinner passed off well, thanks principally to the inexhaustible +tide of good spirits and fun that flowed from Lawton. We took a couple +of hansoms afterwards and arrived at the theatre in good time. + +The "Lily of Canton" went smoothly from beginning to end. The crowded +house laughed and applauded the whole time. In fact, the humour and +fun of Lawton's libretto were irresistible, and the beautiful airs +that Viola's fancy had woven in and out to carry the wit of Lawton's +sparkling lines enchanted the audience. + +At the end there were calls for both of them to appear before the +curtain, and Viola left the box with him, radiant and smiling. When +they both appeared on the stage the enthusiasm was unbounded. Viola +was in white, and her delicate, rose-like fairness delighted the +audience, and the women clapped Lawton with good-will. Handsome, easy, +dignified, graceful, and debonair as usual, he smiled and bowed his +acknowledgments over and over again beside Viola, into whose face came +the wrapt, glad look that her music always gave, replacing the +expression of pain she had worn now for so many weeks. + +I sat in our box watching her, with sore, jealous feelings rising up +like mists over the pride I had in my possession. As the whole scene +and her triumph stirred and roused my passion for her, some voice +seemed interrogating me--"Is she and her love not enough for you? Why +do you wear thin and fray the delicious tie between you?" + +They were both up again in the box beside me, directly surrounded by +congratulating friends; and then Lawton gathered together his party +and we all filed off in a stream of hansoms to the supper that he was +giving in Viola's honour. It was already daylight before we reached +home. + +The next evening I had to attend an artists' dinner. It was for men +only, so that Viola was not invited. I spent a very busy morning and +afternoon in the studio. The Bacchante was almost finished, and I had +made up my mind to dismiss Veronica as soon as I was sure I was +satisfied with the picture and did not need her again. Full of this +resolve, I was perhaps a little more careless than usual, less on my +guard, and when at the end Veronica came to kiss me, I returned her +caress with more warmth than I was accustomed to do. It did not really +matter, I thought; the girl would be gone in a day or two and I should +have no more to do with her. + +Feeling rather pleased with myself for having taken the decided +resolution to dismiss her in order to please Viola I went downstairs, +and was rather vexed when I met her to see her looking particularly +white and ill. She had seemed fairly well at luncheon, and I could not +shake off the extraordinary idea that my conduct with Veronica through +the afternoon was in some way connected with her pallor and expression +now. + +I had it on my lips to say--"I have decided to dismiss the model," +when that feeling of irritation against her for looking so wretched +came uppermost and held the words back. + +If she couldn't trust me and would worry about things when I told her +not to, she might worry and I would let her alone. + +It really always hurt and alarmed me so much to see Viola look ill or +delicate that it made me angry with her, instead of extra considerate +and kind as I should have been. + +She came upstairs to be with me while I dressed, and sat in the +armchair at the foot of the bed. + +I asked her if she had a headache, and she said, "No." + +"What did you do all this afternoon?" I asked. "Did any one come in to +tea?" + +"No, nobody came. I was lying on a sofa in the drawing-room most of +the time, thinking. I didn't feel able to do anything." + +I did not ask her what she had been thinking about, but went on +dressing in silence. + +Before I left I kissed her, but it was rather a cold kiss, as I felt +she ought to be happy and pink-cheeked as a result of my good +intentions--unreasonably enough, since I had not told her of them. + +She accepted it, but seemed to hesitate as if she wished to say +something to me. I saw her grow paler and her lips quiver. She did not +speak, however, and so in rather a strained silence we parted and I +went downstairs. + +How I regretted that coldness afterwards! How mad and blind one is +sometimes where one loves most! + +I did not enjoy the dinner at all because I could not deny to myself +that I had been unkind to her, with that tacit unkindness that is so +keenly felt and is so difficult to meet or combat. I left the hotel +where the dinner had been held quite early, and drove back to the +house, longing and impatient to be with her again, hold her in my +arms, and tell her all I had resolved and been thinking about, and +kiss the bright colour back into her face again. + +I let myself in with my latch-key and ran up the stairs into the +drawing-room. + +It was brightly lighted, but empty. I was just going to seek her +upstairs when a note set up before the clock on the mantelpiece caught +my eye. + +I crossed the room, took it up, tore it open, and ran my eyes +hurriedly down it, line after line. + + "_Dearest,_ + + "Our relations have entered upon a new phase lately. I suppose it + cannot be helped, it is merely the turning on of the wheel of + time. We cannot stay the wheel, still less turn it back. All we + can do is to adjust ourselves to the new position. + + "You have wished for your freedom. It is yours. I have never + wanted to take it away, but I feel I cannot go on dedicating my + life and every thought I have to you as I have done, if you wish + to share with others all that has been mine and all that I value + most in this or any world. I have tried, but it is beyond me. You + cannot think what I have suffered in these last weeks. I have + reasoned with myself, asked myself what did it matter what you did + when you were away from me, why should one rival now matter more + than those the past has held for me? I have argued, reasoned, + fought with myself, but it is useless. These unconquerable + instincts of jealousy have been placed in us and are as strong as + those other instincts of desire that excite them. + + "The life of the last few weeks is killing me. I am losing my + health, losing my power to work. It is the concentration of all my + thoughts upon you that is maddening, impossible now that you no + longer belong to me. Even your presence, once the sun of my + existence, is painful to me now; and when you come straight from + another woman to kiss me, it is agony. I cannot bear it. + + "You thought I did not know all the kisses and caresses you have + given Veronica. Dear Trevor, a woman always knows--perhaps a man + does, too. Certainly I knew. One does not have to see or hear; + there is a sense, not yet discovered, that is above all the + others, that tells us these things. When you came from her to me + you brought with you an influence that killed. Perhaps it was that + you were surrounded with an electricity from her that was hostile + to my own. + + "I have felt lately a longing to be away from you, a longing to + escape from pain and torture, but the music keeps me in town, and + we cannot well separate here without a scandal, which I know you + would not wish. So I am going to try and escape mentally from you, + though our bodies must occupy the same house for a little while + longer. + + "I am going to try to interest myself in others, not to think of + you, not to care for you as I have done. We have both been foolish + perhaps, as you say, in limiting our lives to each other, let us + end the idea between us. Let us be like ordinary married people. + You are free to choose whatever paths of pleasure open before you, + I am the same. To-night when you come back you will find this + letter instead of me. I shall dine out with one of these men who + want me and afterwards spend the evening with him. I will come + back early enough to cause no comment, but I will not come to your + room, as I do not suppose you will want me. I have had another + room put ready, and I shall go there. + + "Good-bye, dearest one; if you could know all the agony that has + gone before this breaking of the tie between us! Now I seem to + feel nothing; I am dead. I can't cry; can't think any more. + + "VIOLA." + + * * * * * + +I read this letter through with an agonised terror coming over me, +that gripped and wrung my heart, through the cloud of amaze that +filled me. Towards the end the words seemed to stab me. As I came to +the conclusion the truth broke upon me in a blinding, lightning flash. +_I_ had lost her. But it was incredible, unthinkable. She was part of +my life, part of myself. I still lived; therefore, she was mine. I +felt paralysed. I could not grasp fully what she had said, what she +intended me to understand. It was as when one is told a loved one is +dead. It means nothing to us for a moment. Reason goes down under a +flood of sickening fear. I read the last page over again. + +Then I sprang to my feet and stared round the empty room as if seeking +an explanation from it. It offered none. All round me was orderly, +placid. Only within me burned a hell, lighted by those written words. +It was very quiet, only an occasional drip of the June rain outside +broke the stillness. + +An exquisite picture of Viola laughed joyously back at me from a +little table covered with vases of white flowers, white as she had +been that first night at the studio.... + +O God in heaven, what _had_ I done to bring this ruin into my own +life? _Had_ I deserved it? Had I? I thought wildly. + +What had I done? What did it all mean? Veronica? A few kisses? the +impulse of passion? It was nothing, everything was nothing to me +beside Viola. She must have known that. Then I recalled her appeals to +me. She had asked me to give up Veronica, why had I not done so? +Instead, how had I met Viola; how had I answered her? My own words +were hurled back upon me by memory and fell upon me like blows, so had +they fallen upon her. How could I have been so mad, so blind? + +Her favourite chair was pushed a little from the fire; by its side I +noticed something white, and stooped mechanically to pick it up. It +was her handkerchief, crushed together and soaked through and through. +How she must have been crying to wet it like that! At the corner it +was marked with blood, as if she had pressed it to bitten lips. + +My own eyes filled with scorching tears as I looked at it. + +It was the one sign of the passion and agony that had raged in that +room before I came back. + +If I had only returned sooner! I put the handkerchief in my breast, +and took up her letter again. Could I do anything, anything now to +follow, to recall her? + +I looked at the clock, and ice seemed to close round my heart and +chill it. It was already eleven. Then the phrase about the other room +struck me. Could she have possibly returned? I opened the door and +went upstairs and through all the rooms in the house. All were empty. +I saw the bedroom farthest from mine had been put ready for occupancy, +and some few trifles of her own taken from our room and put into it. +Then I came back, sick with apprehension, to the drawing-room again, +questioning what I could do. + +To whom would she have gone? As the thought came all the blood in my +body seemed to seethe and rage, but the question had to be faced. For +a moment no definite idea would form itself. Then the recollection of +Lawton dashed in upon me. The man's head seemed photographed suddenly +on all the pale walls round me; handsome, brilliant, engaging, well +born, and well bred, he was the man of all others surely to attract +her. + +She would go to him, they would dine together, she would return to +his chambers with him.... She had not come back yet. + +For a few moments I was mad. I laid my hand on the back of the chair +near me, and it was smashed in my grip. Then the madness passed over, +and I could think again. I went upstairs, took out my revolver, and +loaded it. I thought I would go round to Lawton's place, ... but, when +coming downstairs again, the thought struck me--Suppose it was not +Lawton? What would the latter think of my sudden appearance, my +enquiries? Twelve had now struck. + +There was just a possibility that she would not fulfil her letter, +that she would come back to me; but if I by my actions to-night +brought any publicity on what she had done, I should make an injury +where none existed. + +I thought for some time over this, and it seemed impossible for me to +do anything but wait for her return--wait till I knew. + +The thought of her name, her reputation, and how I might possibly +injure them now held me there motionless. + +It seemed incredible that she could be so long away and yet her +absence mean nothing. But the other supposition, the thought of her +passing from me, seemed more incredible still. + +I know how great her love for me was, and love like ours is not +easily swept aside and its claims broken down. Still, in a paroxysm of +jealous agony and resentment against me, all might be obscured, and if +Lawton were there persuading.... + +And this, something of this pain, I now felt, she had suffered, as the +soaked handkerchief told me. + +How I loathed the thought of Veronica! Love, even when it has expired, +leaves some tenderness of feeling to us; passion once dead leaves +nothing but loathing. + +I got up and wrote a few lines of dismissal. It was something to do, +something to distract my devouring thoughts. I enclosed a cheque for +all, and more than the sum due to her. Then I flung the letter on the +table, and pushed the thought of her out of my mind. + +I paced up and down the room, looking constantly at the clock. What +were these fleeting moments taking from me? My brain seemed on fire +and full of light. Picture after picture rose before me, vivid, +brilliant--all pictures of Viola and hours passed with her. What a +wonderful personality she had, and I alone had possessed it. How +utterly and entirely she had given herself to me, me alone of all the +many who coveted her. I had been the first, the only one for her, till +my own hand had foolishly cut the ties that bound us together. If I +lost her, suppose I gained everything else in the world, would it +content me? Could I lose her? Could I let her go? But I _had. I_ +glanced at the clock. It was now one. She had not returned. By this +time she had passed from me to another. The pain, the acute pain of +it, of this thought seemed to divide my brain like a two-edged sword. +What had I done? + +Why had I not realised that I should feel like this? To have and then +to lose while one still desires, this is the most horrible pain in the +world. The animals feel it to the point of madness, and they are wise, +they do not court it. They will tear their rival, even the female +herself, in pieces rather than yield her up. But I! What had I done? A +mate had nestled to my breast, and I had not been wise enough to hold +it there. And now I suffered; how I suffered! My brain seemed to +writhe in those moments of agony like a body on the rack or in the +flames. Each thought was a torture: sweet recollections came to me +like the breath of flowers, only to turn into a fresh agony of +despair. + +There is no pain so absolutely black in its hideous agony as jealousy. +The other mental pains of this life may last longer, but there is none +that cuts down deeper, that possesses such a ravening tooth, while it +lasts, as this. + +The vision of Lawton's face was like a brand upon my brain. I saw it +everywhere, as it had looked when she smiled upon him at dinner. + +Suddenly, as I paced backwards and forwards, I heard a little noise +outside, a light footfall on the stairs or landing. I stood still, my +heart seeming to knock about inside my chest as if it wanted to leap +out between the ribs. Then I went to the door and threw it wide open. +She stood there just outside. The light from within fell upon her, and +my eyes ran over her, questioning, devouring, while waves of hope and +terror seemed dashing up against my brain like the surf over a rock. + +She looked collected, mistress of herself, her dress and hair were +perfect in arrangement as when she had started, on her face was a +curious look of gladness, of relief, of decision, of triumph. What was +its meaning? + +I took both her hands and drew her over the threshold. She came +gladly. She must have seen the agony of fear, of questioning in my +face, for after a swift look up at me she said impulsively: + +"I am so glad to be back with you, Trevor." + +I could not answer her. I stood silent. The sick fatigue of hours of +painful emotion was creeping over me, and the agony of longing to know +everything from her lips seemed to paralyse me. + +"I could not, after all, dearest," she said, in a very low tone. "I +could not do anything on my side to sever myself from you, so I have +come back to you." + +Her voice seemed to come to me from a long distance, but every word +was clear and distinct. The relief of the loosening of the pressure of +one hideous idea was intense. I took a chair beside her and put my arm +round her shoulders. + +"Tell me what has happened, then, since you left me." + +She was drawing off her gloves slowly; the flesh of the fingers and +wrist was slightly indented from long pressure of the kid. I saw that +her glove had not been removed for several hours. A great tide of +pleasure and relief broke slowly over me. + +"Well, I went straight from here to Lawton's chambers, and he was out; +so I sat down in one of his easy chairs by the fire to wait for him. I +sat and sat there, looking into the fire, and somehow I forgot all +about Lawton and began thinking about you and the pictures and your +wonderful voice and all the delightful times we had had together; and +then I thought of all I had always tried to do for you, and how you +were the first, the very first man I had ever cared for or done +anything for, and how I had always belonged to you; and it seemed a +pity to spoil it all--if you understand. I felt I could not with my +own hands pull down the beautiful fabric of my love for you that I had +built up. I felt I could not give myself to any one else, there seemed +something irresistible holding me from it. You must do what you like, +be faithful or not to me, but I must be faithful to you." + +She threw back her head and looked at me. Her elusive loveliness, +lying all in colour and bloom and light, was at its height. She was +intensely excited, and the excitement paled the skin, widened the +lustrous eyes, heightened the extreme delicacy of the face. I bent +over her and kissed her as I had never done yet; it was one of those +moments in life when the soul seems to have wings and fly upwards. + +After a moment. + +"And then," I said, "did you come back to me?" + +"Well, gradually, as I sat there, a horror of Lawton, of everything +came over me. I did not know how long I had sat there. I looked at my +watch: it was two. I was terrified. I only wanted to escape. I got up +to go, and just then I heard Lawton coming in. There was a screen near +me, and it did just occur to me I might conceal myself and pass out as +he went to the inner room; but I did not like the idea of hiding in +any one's rooms, so I stood still, and he came in." + +She was silent, and I felt suddenly plunged back into a mist of +questioning horror. What had passed between these two? Had any links +in some new chain been forged? + +But she was mine! Mine! and I would never let her go. + +"What did you say?" I asked her. My throat was so dry the words were +hardly more than a whisper. + +"He started of course on seeing me, and then rushed forwards and +said, 'Darling,' or something of that sort. I hardly heard what he +said. I said simply: 'I was just going when you came in. I can't +stay.' Then, of course, he asked me why I had come and all that and, +oh, heaps and heaps of things. You know all the usual things a man +does say, and I answered if he really cared for me he would let me go +at once. Then he walked to the door, shut and locked it, and put the +key in his pocket." + +She paused, and I looked away from her. I was in such a passion of +rage against the man, and almost also with her for putting herself in +such a position, I did not care for her to see my eyes. + +"Go on," I said; "what did you do?" + +"I asked him why he had locked the door, and he said to prevent my +going until I had told him why I had come. I said I had changed my +mind in the hours I had sat there, and he answered: 'Well, you will +change it again if you stay here some more hours,' and he came and sat +on the chair arm beside me. You see, Trevor, it wasn't his fault a +bit, for he guessed I had come with all sorts of nice feelings for +him, and he felt it was only his part, as it were, to play up to the +situation, that it would be impossible to do anything but seem to wish +to keep me when I had come." + +"Don't trouble to tell me all that," I said angrily; "I know what +Lawton feels for you. I know he is wild about you. I wonder you are +not murdered. Go on, what did he do?" + +"He was awfully good and nice. He tried for an hour to persuade me. He +wanted to kiss me, of course. I said I was in his power, but that he +would kill me before I would kiss him voluntarily. I think that +convinced him, for he walked straight to the door and unlocked it and +threw it open. Then he said he couldn't let me go into the streets at +that hour alone, and so he came with me. He walked all the way here +and left me at this door. That's all." + +There was silence. Such a tremendous upheaval of emotions and feelings +seemed surging within me I could not speak. My voice seemed dried dead +in my throat. No words came before my mind that I could use. + +Dawn was creeping slowly into the room. The hideous black night was +over. Pale light, very soft and grey, but overpowering, was stealing +in, mingling with the electric gold glare it was so soon to kill. It +seemed to me like that mysterious, impalpable spirit we call love that +is overpowering, dominant over everything, before which the false +glare of the fires of sense pale into nothingness. + +"Trevor," she said at last, breaking the silence of the pale, misty +room, "are you glad I decided as I did? You must do just what you +like; I only felt I could not do anything against you." + +I turned and drew her wholly into my arms, and at that warm, living +contact my voice came back to me. + +"You are my life, my soul, and you ask if I am glad you've come back +to me? There is nothing in the world for me really but you. Everything +else is dust and ashes, that can be swept away by the lightest +transient wind. You are the very life in my veins, and you must be +mine always, as you have been from the very first." + +I pressed my lips down on hers with all the force of that fury of +triumph which rose within me. I did not want her answer. I merely +wanted to force my words between her lips, to drive them home to her +heart. She was my regained possession, and the joy of it was like +madness. She put her arms round my neck and lay quite still and +passive, close pressed against my heart, and our souls seemed to meet +and hold communion with each other and there was no need of any more +words. + + + + +PART FOUR + +THE CRIMSON NIGHT + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +LOSS + + +We had left town and come down to the country. Viola had not seemed +quite so well in the last three months since the night of our +reconciliation, and even here in the country she did not seem to +regain her colour and her usual spirits. + +She declared, however, there was nothing the matter with her, and we +had been intensely happy. + +One morning when we came down to our rather late breakfast I found a +long, thin, curiously addressed letter lying by my plate. + +Viola took it up laughingly, and then I saw her suddenly turn pale, +and she laid it back on the table as if the touch of it hurt her. + +"Oh, Trevor, that is a letter from Suzee! I am sure it is! Why should +it come now, just when we are so happy?" + +I looked at her in surprise, and took up the letter to cut it open. + +"What makes you think it comes from her?" I asked; "it is not at all +likely." + +"I know it does," she said simply; "I feel it." + +I laughed and opened the letter, not in the least believing she would +be right. The first line, however, my eye fell upon shewed me it was +from Suzee. The queer, stiff, upright characters suggested Chinese +writing, and the first words could be hers alone: + + "Dear Mister Treevor, + + "Do you remember me? I am in awful trouble. Husband died and also + baby. I sent here to be sold for slave to rich Chinaman. Please + you buy me. Send my price 500 dollars to Mrs. Hackett, address as + per above. + + "Dear Treevor, dear Treevor, do come to me. You remember the wood? + + "I am yours not sold yet, + + "SUZEE." + +I read this through with a feeling of amaze. Suzee had for so long +been a forgotten quantity to me, something left in the past of the +Alaskan trip, like the stars of the North, that her memory, thrown +back suddenly on me like this, startled me. + +I handed the letter to Viola in silence. She read it through, and then +pushed it away from her. + +"I told you so. There is no peace in this world!" + +"But it needn't affect us, dearest," I said. "Suzee is nothing to me +now. I don't want her. There is nothing to distress you." + +"But you'll have to do something about it, I suppose," returned Viola +gloomily. She was making the tea, and I saw her hands shook. + +"I believe you would like to go. It would be a new experience for you. +You would go if that letter came to you when you were living as a +bachelor, wouldn't you?" + +"Possibly I might. But then, of course, when one is free it is +different. Everything is different." + +"Free!" murmured Viola, her eyes filling. "I hate to think I am tying +you." + +"It is not that," I said gently; "one does not want to do the same +things, nor care about them." + +"You wanted Veronica and didn't have her on my account, I am not going +to prevent you doing this. You must go if you want to." + +She threw herself into the easy chair with her handkerchief pressed to +her mouth. The tears welled up to her eyes and poured down her white +face uncontrollably. + +"Dearest, dear little girl," I said, drawing her into my arms, "you +are upsetting yourself for nothing. I don't want to go, I shan't think +of going. I am perfectly happy; you are everything to me." + +She leant her soft head against me in silence, sobbing for some +seconds. + +"Come and have breakfast," I said, stroking her hair gently, "and +don't let us think anything more about it. If fifty Suzees were +calling me I should not want to go." + +Viola dried her eyes and came to the table in silence. We had other +letters to open, and we discussed these, and no further reference was +made to Suzee then. + +Viola looked white and abstracted all day, but it was not till after +dinner, when we were taking our coffee on the verandah, that she gave +me any clew to her thoughts. Then she said suddenly: + +"Trevor, I want you to let me go away from you for a year." + +I gazed at her in astonishment. She looked very wretched. All the +usual bright colour of her face had fled. Her eyes were large, with +the pupils widely dilated in them. There was a determined, fixed +expression on the pale lips that frightened me. + +"Why?" I said, merely drawing my chair close to hers and putting my +arm round her shoulders. + +"That is just what I can't tell you," she answered. "Not now. When I +come back I will tell you, but I don't want to now. But I have a good +reason, one which you will understand when you know it. But do just +let me go now as I wish, without questions. I have thought it over so +much, and I am sure I am doing the right thing." + +"You have thought it over?" I repeated in surprise. "Since when? +Since this morning, do you mean?" + +"No, long before that. Suzee's letter has only decided me to speak +now. I have been meaning to ask you to let me go for some time, only I +put it off because I thought you would dislike it so and would feel +dull without me. But now, if you let me leave you, you can go to Suzee +for a time, and she will amuse and occupy you, and if you want me at +the end of the year I will come back." + +The blood surged up to my head as I listened. How could she +deliberately suggest such things? + +Did she really care for me or value our love at all? + +In any case, for no reason on earth would I let her go. + +"No, I shall not, certainly not, consent to anything so foolish," I +said coldly; "I can't think how you can suggest or think such a thing +is possible." + +Viola was silent for a moment. Then she said: + +"When I come back I would tell you everything, and you would see I was +right." + +"I don't know that you ever would come back," I said, with sudden +irrepressible anger. + +"If you go away I might want you to stay away. You talk as if our +emotions and passions were mere blocks of wood we could take up and +lay down as we pleased, put away in a box for a time, and then bring +them out again to play with. It's absurd. You talk of going away and +driving me to another woman, and then my coming back to you, as if it +was just a simple matter of our own will. Once we separate and allow +our lives to become entangled with other lives we cannot say what will +happen. We might never come together again." + +Viola inclined her head. + +"I know," she said in a low tone. "I have thought of all that. But if +I stay there will be a separation all the same, and perhaps something +worse." + +"What do you mean by a separation?" I demanded hotly. + +"Well, I cannot respond to you any more as I used. I must have rest +for a time," she answered in a low tone. + +I looked at her closely, and it struck me again how delicate she +looked. She was thinner, too, than she had been. Her delicate, almost +transparent hand shook as it rested on the chair arm. + +The colour rushed burning to my face as I leant over her. + +"But, darling girl, if you want more rest you have only to say so. +Perhaps I have been thoughtless and selfish. If so, we must alter +things. But there is no need to separate, to go away from me for +that." + +"No, I know," returned Viola in a very tender tone; "I should not for +that alone. You are always most good. It is not that only. There are +other reasons why I would rather be away from you until we can live +together again as we have done." + +"And you propose to go away, and suggest my living with another woman +till you come back?" I said incredulously; dismay and apprehension and +anger all struggling together within me for expression. + +"Would it be more reasonable of me to expect to leave you and you to +wait absolutely faithful to me till I came back?" she asked, looking +at me with a slow, sad smile, the saddest look I had ever seen, I +thought, on a woman's face. I bent forwards and seized both little +hands in mine and kissed them many times over. + +"Of the two I would rather you did that. Yes," I said passionately. +"But there is no question of your going away; whatever happens, we'll +stick to each other. If you want rest you shall have it; if you are +ill I will nurse you and take care of you; but I shan't allow you to +go away from me." + +She put her arms round my neck. "Dear Trevor, if you would trust me +just this once, and let me go, it would be so much better." + +"No, I cannot consent to such an arrangement," I answered; "it's +absurd. I can't think what you have in your own mind, but I know +nothing would be a greater mistake than what you propose. The chances +are we should never come together again." + +There was silence for a moment, broken only by a heavy sigh from +Viola. + +"Won't you tell me everything you have in your own mind?" I said +persuasively. "I thought we never made mysteries with one another; it +seems to me you are acting just like a person in an old-fashioned +book. You can tell me anything, say anything you like, nothing will +alter my love for you, except deception--that might." + +"And you seem to think separation might," returned Viola sadly. + +"I don't think it's a question of separation altering my love for you, +but in separation sometimes things happen which prevent a reunion." + +Viola was silent. + +"Do tell me," I urged. "Tell me what you have in your mind. Why has +this cloud come up between us?" + +"You see," Viola said very gently, "there are some things, if you tell +a man, he is obliged to say and do certain things in return. If you +take the matter in your own hands you can do better for him than he +can do for himself." + +"It is something for me then?" I said smiling. "I am to gain by your +leaving me for a year?" + +"Yes, I think so," she answered doubtfully. "But principally it is for +myself. I know there is a great risk in going away, but I think a +greater one if I stay." + +I was silent, wondering what it could possibly be that she would not +tell me. Although she said she had formed the idea before Suzee's +letter came, I kept returning to that in my thoughts as the main +reason that must be influencing her. + +I waited, hoping if I did not press her she would perhaps begin to +confide in me of her own accord. But she sat quite silent, looking +intensely miserable and staring out into space before her. I felt a +vague sense of fear and anxiety growing up in me. + +"Dearest, do tell me what is the matter," I said, drawing her close up +to me and kissing her white lips. + +"Don't let us make ourselves miserable for nothing, like stupid people +one reads about. Life has everything in it for us. Let us be happy in +it and enjoy it." + +Viola burst into a storm of tears against my neck and sobbed in a +heart-breaking way for some minutes. + +"Is it that you have ceased to love me, that you feel your own passion +is over?" I asked gently. + +"No, certainly not that." + +"Is it that you think I want to, or ought to be free from you?" + +"No, not that." + +"Well, tell me what it is." + +"I can't. I think we shall be happy again, after the year, if you let +me come back to you." + +I felt my anger grow up again. + +"I am not going to let you leave me. I absolutely forbid it. Don't let +us talk about it any more or speak of it again unless you are ready to +tell me your reason." + +There was a long silence, broken only by her sobs. + +"Viola." + +"Yes." + +"Did you hear what I said?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, do not worry any more. You can't go, so it is settled. Nothing +can hurt us while we remain together." + +Viola did not say anything, but she ceased to cry and kissed me and +lay still in my arms. + +There was some minutes' silence, then I said: + +"Let's go up to bed. Sleep will do you good. You look tired and +exhausted to the last degree." + +We went upstairs, and that night she seemed to fall asleep in my arms +quickly and easily. I lay awake, as hour after hour passed, wondering +what this strange fancy could be that was torturing her. + +At last, between three and four in the morning, I fell asleep and did +not wake again till the clock struck nine on the little table beside +me. + +The sun was streaming into the room, and I sat up wide awake. The +place beside me was empty. I looked round the room. I was quite alone. +Remembering our conversation of last night and Viola's strange manner, +a vague apprehension came over me, and my heart beat nervously. It +was very unusual for Viola to be up first. She generally lay in bed +till the last moment, and always dissuaded me from getting up till I +insisted on doing so. I sprang up now and went over to the +toilet-table. On the back of her brushes lay a note addressed to me in +her handwriting. Before I took it up I felt instinctively she had left +me. For a moment I could not open it. My heart beat so violently that +it seemed impossible to breathe, a thick mist came over my eyes. I +took up the note and paced up and down the room for a few minutes +before I could open it. + +A suffocating feeling of anger against her raged through me. The sight +of the bed where she had so lately lain beside me filled me with a +resentful agony. She had gone from me while I slept. To me, in those +first blind moments of rage, it seemed like the most cruel treachery. + +After a minute I grew calm enough to tear open the note and read it. + + * * * * * + + "My very dearest one, + + "Forgive me. This is the first time I have disobeyed you in + anything in all the time we have been together And now [Greek: + bainô. to gar chrên mou te kai theôn kratei....] + + "I must go from you, and you yourself will see in the future the + necessity that is ruling me now. Do not try to find me or follow + me, as I cannot return to you yet. Do believe in me and trust me + and let me return to you at the end of this miserable year which + stretches before me now a desert of ashes and which seems as if it + would never pass over, as if it would stretch into Eternity. But + my reason tells me that it will pass, and then I shall come back + to you and all my joy in life; for there is no joy anywhere in + this world for me except with you--if you will let me come back. + + "No one will know where I am. I shall see no one we know. Say what + you wish about me to the world. + + "Don't think I do not know how you will suffer at first; but you + would have suffered more if I had stayed. While I am away from + you, think of your life as entirely your own; do not hesitate to + go to Suzee, if you wish. I feel somehow that Fate has designed + you for me, not for her, and that she will not hold you for long, + but that, whatever happens, you will always remember + + "VIOLA." + + * * * * * + +I crushed this letter in my hand in a fury of rage when I had read it, +and threw it from me. Anger against her, red anger in which I could +have killed her, if I could in those moments have followed and found +her, swept over me. + +I looked round the room mechanically. She had dressed in the clothes +she had been wearing yesterday apparently, and taken one small +handbag, for I missed that from where it had stood on a chest of +drawers. + +Her other luggage was there undisturbed. I saw her evening and other +dresses hanging in the half-open wardrobe opposite me. + +The only thing that had gone from the toilet-table was the little +frame with my photo in it. + +A sickening sense of loss, of despair came over me, mingling with the +savage anger and hatred surging within me. + +After a time I rose from my chair and began to dress. + +I had made up my mind as to my own actions. To stay here without +Viola, where the whole place spoke to me of her, was impossible. As +soon as I could get everything packed I would go up to London and stay +at my club. She would not come back. + +No, it was no use my waiting with that hope. + +Her mad scheme, whatever it was, I felt was planted deeply, her +resolve fixed. It was true that three months before, after just such a +cruel letter, she had come suddenly back to me, having failed in her +resolution. I remembered that, and paused suddenly at the +recollection. But then that was different. Then, infidelity to me had +been in the question. Now I knew that wherever she was going it was +not to another lover. + +Whatever her foolish idea was, some benefit to me was mixed up with it +in her mind. + +And then, suddenly, in a tender rush of passionate reminiscence that +would not be denied, the knowledge came home to me that, whatever her +faults might be, however foolish and maddening her actions, no one had +ever loved me as she had done, as unselfishly, with the same +abandonment of self. + +The hot tears came scalding up under my lids. I picked up the little +crumpled sheet of paper I had so savagely crushed, smoothed it out, +folded it, and put it in my breast pocket. + +Then I turned to my packing. We had only taken rooms here. By paying I +was free to leave at any moment. + +Her things? What should I do with them? Keep them with me or send them +away to her bankers? + +I thought the latter, and turned to gather up her clothes and put them +in her portmanteau. My brain seemed bursting with a wild agony of +resentment as I took up first one thing and then another: the touch of +them seemed to burn me. Then, when I was half-way through a trunk; I +stopped short. Was I wise to accept the situation at all? Perhaps I +could follow her and find out, after all, what this mystery meant. + +We were in a small country place, but there was a fairly good service +of trains to town; one I knew left in the morning at seven, she might +have taken that. I could go to the station and find out. + +Filled suddenly with that heart-rending longing for the sight and +touch of the loved one again that is so unendurable in the first hours +of separation, I thought I would do that, and I left the half-filled +trunk and went downstairs to the hall. + +The two maids were standing there waiting, and they stared at me as I +passed and put on my hat. + +"Please, sir, are you ready for breakfast? It's gone half-past ten." + +"No," I said shortly. "I am going out first." + +"Will Mrs. Lonsdale be coming down, sir?" + +I stopped short. + +"No, Mrs. Lonsdale has gone out already," I answered, and went on +through the door. + +I didn't care what they thought. When one is in great pain, physical +or mental, nothing seems to matter except that pain. + +I walked fast to the station, about a mile distant, and made enquiries +as discreetly as I could. + +"No," was the unanimous answer. Mrs. Lonsdale had certainly not left +there by any train that morning, nor been there at all, nor hired a +fly from there. They were all quite sure of that. + +She was well known at the station, so it seemed improbable she could +have been there unobserved. + +There was another station up the line six miles distant. She might +easily have walked to that to avoid notice. + +I took a fly, and drove to the other station, but here Viola was not +known personally, and though I described her, and was assured she had +not been seen there, it was indefinite and uncertain information that +settled nothing. + +She might have gone from there to town by an early train unnoticed, or +she might have gone down the line to another country place to elude +me. I could tell nothing. + +Feeling sick and dispirited, I drove back to the station and then +walked on to the house. + +When I went upstairs the room was in disorder just as I had left it. +As I entered the bed caught my eye, the pillow her head had so lately +crushed, and there beside it the delicate garment she had been wearing +a few hours ago. + +An immense, a devastating sense of loss came over me. A feeling of +suffering so intense and so vast, it seemed to crush me beneath it +physically as well as mentally. + +I sank down in the armchair, laid my head back and closed my eyes. I +ceased to think any more, I was unconscious of anything except that +sense of intense suffering. + +By that evening I had everything packed, all the bills paid; and I +took the seven-o'clock train to town. I felt to stay there the night, +to attempt to sleep in that room so full of memories of her was an +impossibility. Something that would drive me mad if I attempted it. + +The people of the house stared at me when I paid them, and the maids +looked frightened when I addressed them, but I hardly saw them, doing +what was necessary in a mechanical way, with all my senses turned +inward, as it were, and blunted by that one overpowering idea of loss. + +The two hours in a fast train did me good. I had a sort of +subconscious feeling I was going to her by going to town which buoyed +me up instinctively; but the reaction was terrible when I actually +arrived and drove to some rooms I knew in Jermyn Street and realised +that I was indeed alone. + +I sat up all that night, feeling my brain alight and blazing with a +fire of agony and pain. Sleep was out of the question. A man does not +love a woman as I loved Viola and sleep the night after she has left +him. + +The next morning I went to her bankers, only to get just the answers I +had expected. + +Yes, Mrs. Lonsdale had communicated with them. She was abroad, and +they had her address but were not at liberty to disclose it. They +would forward all letters to her immediately. + +I went straight back to my rooms and wrote to her. I poured out my +whole heart in the letter, imploring her to come to me; yet every line +I wrote I knew was useless, useless. + +Still I could not rest nor exist till I had written it, and when it +was posted I felt a certain solace. + +I walked on to my club afterwards, and amongst other letters found +another from Suzee. + +I could not imagine how she had obtained my club address at all, +unless it was in that night when she came to my cabin. She would be +quite capable of searching for anything she wanted and taking away +some of my letters to obtain and keep my address. + +I did not open it at once. I felt a sort of anger with Suzee as being +partly responsible for all I was going through. Whatever Viola might +say, Suzee's letter had seemed to bring her mad resolve to a climax. + +I took some lunch at the club, and a man I knew came up and spoke to +me. + +"Up in town again, I see," he began, to which I assented. + +"How's Mrs. Lonsdale?" + +"Quite well, thank you," I replied. + +"Is she up with you?" + +"No." + +"Coming up soon, I suppose?" + +"I don't know." + +My friend looked at me once or twice, and then after a few vacuous +remarks went away. + +I knew that in a few hours it would be all over the club that I and +Viola no longer hit it off together, that in fact we were living +apart, and by the evening a decree _nisi_ would have been pronounced +for us. But I didn't care what they said. Nothing mattered. No one +could hurt me more than I was hurt already. The worst had happened. + +As I sat there I saw Lawton, who also belonged to the club, cross the +end of the dining-room. He, too, would come up and speak to me if he +caught sight of me. + +I felt I did not wish to speak to the man who had always loved Viola, +who had always envied me her possession, and to whom once I had nearly +lost her. + +I got up and left the club, went back to my rooms, and there got out +my letters to read. + +After all, I thought, as I took up Suzee's letter, why not go out to +'Frisco? It would make a change, something to do, something to drive +away this perpetual desire of another's presence. + +A second night like last stared me in the face. What was the use of +continuing to feel in this wretched, angry, burning, hungry way? + +I broke the seal and read Suzee's second appeal to me, more +passionate, more urgent than the last. She begged me to go to her +without delay, or it would be too late; a fervour of longing breathed +in every line. + +An ironic smile came over my face as I read. This letter to me seemed +like an echo of the one I had sent to Viola that morning. Well, I +would wait for her answer, and then, perhaps, if she would not return +to me, I would go to 'Frisco. + +In any case, I would send a few lines to Suzee with the money for her +purchase. It would be best to cable it to her, and I went out again to +arrange this. + +Five wretched, listless days went by, followed by nearly sleepless +nights, and then came Viola's answer, apparently by the postmark from +some place in France. + +My whole body shook as I opened it, and for many seconds I could see +nothing on the paper but a mass of dancing black lines. Yet the +immense comfort of being again in touch with her after these dreadful +days of isolation seemed to flow over and through me like some healing +balm. + +At last I read these lines: + + "I am terribly, unutterably grieved, my own dearest one, to hear + how much you have suffered, but my return to you now would not + undo that, and only give you the pain in addition that I went away + to avoid for you. + + "Go, dearest, go out to 'Frisco, and let the thought of me lie in + your subconsciousness for a year, a little chrysalis of future + happiness. Do not think of me, do not let your mind dwell on me. + Fill up your life with joy and work. I have a conviction that we + cannot ever really separate in this life. Therefore I do not fear + (as you seemed to do) that anything will be strong enough to keep + us apart if we both will to be together. Only, for a time, let me + sleep in your Soul in a chamber where none other can enter, and + the year will soon pass for you, though slowly, as a winter night, + for me. Your + + "VIOLA." + + * * * * * + +A great numbness seized me as I came to the end. + +A year without her. It seemed like Eternity itself. + +I sat for many hours motionless with her letter in my hand. + +Then I went out and to a ticket office in Piccadilly, and got a +through ticket to 'Frisco. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +IN 'FRISCO + + +During the voyage to New York and the subsequent journey across +America to San Francisco I was very wretched. + +The mystery of Viola's disappearance and her flight from me stood +before my mind perpetually, worrying and harassing it. I felt no +joyful anticipation of reaching 'Frisco and meeting Suzee, though I +recognised in a dull way that some sort of distraction and +companionship would be the best thing to stop this incessant pondering +on the same subject. I slept little at night, and in the short +intervals of rest such vivid dreams of Viola would come to me, that +awakening in the morning brought a fresh anguish of despair and +disappointment with it each day. + +This sort of thing could not go on, I must let her "lie asleep in my +subconsciousness for a year," as she put it in her letter--for to +forget her was impossible--or my reason would go down under the +strain. + +When I arrived in San Francisco, it was one of those strange days when +the sea-fog comes in to visit the town. It rolled in great thick +billows down the streets from the sand dunes, obscuring everything, +damping everything, filling the air with the salt scent of the open +sea. + +I went to one of the big hotels, and they gave me a bedroom and +sitting-room to myself: the rooms were adjoining and comfortable, but +oh! what a blankness fell upon me as I sat down in one of the chairs +and the bell-boy, having deposited a jug of iced water on the table, +shut the door. I had been so much with Viola that it seemed strange to +me now, hard to realise that I was alone. How many rooms such as +these, she and I had come into, shared together, and how bright and +gay her companionship had always been, how she had always laughed at +the discomforts or the difficulties of our travels! Surely we had been +made for each other! What strange wave of life was this that had +broken us apart? I looked towards my bedroom, dull and cheerless and +empty. From the open window the warm, wet, yellow fog was streaming in +its soft wreaths through both rooms. The roar from the stone-paved +streets, crowded with incessant traffic, came up to me muffled through +the fog. + +After a time I rose, closed the windows, unpacked my things, and +changed my clothes. Then I went down at six to dine, as I wanted a +long evening. Some champagne cheered me, and as I sat in the long, +crowded dining-room, alone at my small table, my heart began to beat +again warmly at the thought of the new venture before me. To-night? +What would it bring forth? Should I find her? The vitalising breath of +excitement began to creep through me. I finished my dinner hurriedly, +swallowed my black coffee at a draught, and made my way down the room +and out to the hall, putting on my hat and coat as I went. I found the +guide I had asked for when I first arrived at the hotel waiting for +me. He asked me mysteriously if I had put away my watch and divested +myself of all jewellery, and I told him impatiently I had and showed +him a small revolver I always carried. When he was somewhat reassured +I took the paper that Suzee had sent me out of my pocket and showed it +to him. + +"That's where I want to go," I said, "and if you know every hole and +cranny of the place as I was told, I suppose you know that one." + +The guide grinned as he read the name. + +"It's the worst place in the whole town," he remarked with a sort of +admiring unction. I evidently went up in his estimation as he +recognised the acumen I had shewed in my choice. I was a visitor +worthy of his guidance, and he was put upon his mettle. + +"The police don't dare to go there, but they'll let me in day or +night." + +We had reached the door now and stepped into the street. The fog had +had its frolic down town, it seemed and had almost disappeared, +rolling off to the sand dunes and the sea whence it had come. The +night was dark and fresh with the damp saltness of the shore; a few +stars shone above. The shops were still open, and their huge +plate-glass windows blazed with light. We walked rapidly through these +streets towards the Chinese quarter where the noise and light ceased. +The streets were quiet and empty and seemed very clean. The shops here +were closed. The lights few. There was a fever of impatience in my +veins. I felt as when one is drawing near to an unknown combat: a +conflict the nature of which and ultimate result one does not know. + +My rather shambling guide seemed amused at the pace at which I walked +and giggled immoderately between remarks of his own which seemed to +him to be appropriate to the occasion. I hardly heard him. At one +moment I was lost in a bitter reflection of how many excursions and +similar wanderings Viola had shared with me; at another, my mind +seemed leaping eagerly forward, to seize this new joy in front of me. + +"That's a joss-house, and that's a tea-house, and that's a silk +merchant," remarked my guide at intervals, indicating different +buildings as we passed. Some were frame houses with signs hanging out, +painted in Chinese characters and with wonderful red door-posts; some +had latticed windows with lights burning behind. But for the most +part, from this outer point of view, Chinatown was clean, orderly, and +dark. + +We stopped at last before an open doorway through which we stepped and +crossed a yard, hemmed in by the crowded frame buildings round it, but +open to the sky. By the light of the stars we found a ladder at the +farther side and ascended this as it leant against the crooked wall of +a rickety and tumbledown-looking house. The ladder went as far as the +second story, where there was an open square of blackness, either +window or door, through which we scrambled from the swaying rungs and +then found ourselves in a passage. It was very low, apparently, for I +struck my head whenever I held it upright, and so narrow that our +shoulders brushed the sides. It was in fact a little tunnel, reminding +one of the rounded runways a rabbit makes in thick undergrowth. It was +quite dark, and my guide put himself in front and took one of my +hands, pulling me along after him down steps and round corners, along +different twisted, corkscrew turnings, till at last a passage a little +broader than the others opened before us, where a lamp was burning; he +drew back against the wall, pushing me forwards, and whispering some +directions in my ear. + +I passed along, as I was bid, went down two small steps, and knocked +at the door I found before me. The door seemed a very stout one, +securely fastened, and had a small aperture, at the height of one's +face from the ground. It was only about five inches square and set +with thick vertical iron bars. Behind these was an iron flap now +closed. + +I knocked and waited. Presently the iron flap behind the bars was +cautiously opened and I saw a face peering through at me. Before I +could speak the iron flap was shut to with a clank. + +"That's because Nanine sees you're a stranger," whispered my guide. +"They're a real bad lot here, and they're precious afraid of any 'tecs +getting in. Just let me pass, sir." + +I drew back, and he went up and gave the most extraordinary squawk +that I ever heard. It was a pretty good password to have, for I should +think no stranger could imitate it. The flap flew open again, and then +some conversation ensued through the bars. + +"It's all right now, sir," said the guide after a minute; "you walk +right in." The door was now ajar. I went forwards and pushed it; it +gave way easily. I stepped inside, and it swung to behind me. Inside +the light was red--scarlet. A lamp was standing somewhere at the side +of the room, behind thin, red curtains. As I entered, another door at +the end of the room swung to on a retreating form. Some one had gone +out. The room seemed empty. It was very small, and an enormous bed +took up nearly the whole of it. There seemed no window at all +anywhere: the low ceiling almost touched my head. I stopped still. A +very slight movement somewhere near me seemed to speak of another's +presence. + +"Suzee," I said under my breath. + +At the sound of my voice there was a delighted cry, and the next +moment a little form in scarlet drapery threw itself at my feet. + +"Treevor, Treevor," came in Suzee's voice; and I bent over the little +scarlet bundle, lifted her up, and pressed my lips on her hair. It +smelt of roses, just as it had done in the tea-shop at Sitka, and +carried me back there on the wings of its fragrance, as scents alone +can do. + +She clung to me in a wild fervour of emotion. I felt her little hands +dutch me desperately. She kissed my arm and wrist passionately, +seeming not to dare to lift her face to mine. This wild abandonment, +this frenzy of hungered, starving love, what a sharp contrast to the +cool, slow surrender of Viola, if surrender it could be called, that +lending of the beautiful body, with total reserve of the spirit! Even +in that moment of this wild lavishing of love from another, as the +little breast leapt wildly against my own, a fierce pulse of jealous +longing went through me as I thought of that unconquered something +that _she_ had never yielded to me. + +Suzee hardly seemed to expect my caresses in return, she only seemed +to wish to pour her own upon me in the wildest, most lavish excess. +At last, when she grew a little calmer, I held her at arm's length +from me and looked at her. + +"Now, Suzee, I want you to tell me what you are doing in this awful +place. How did you get here, to begin with?" + +"Oh, Mister Treevor, I have had such trouble, such awful trouble, you +will never believe; but when I ran--when I came to Mrs. Hackett she +was very good to me, only she wanted to sell me for two hundred and +fifty dollars to Chinaman. I said, 'No, I belong to rich Englishman. +He send you more if you wait. He send you three hundred!' And I wrote +you, you remember?" + +"Yes," I answered. "Did you get the money all right that I cabled to +you?" + +"Oh yes, Treevor, thank you; and Nanine had it and so she was willing +to keep me." + +"But what have you been doing while you have been here?" I said +glancing round. The whole place, with its hidden entrance, secret +passages, and barred doors seemed to speak of the lowest and worst +forms of vice. + +"Oh, Treevor, I have been very good, so good. I would not have any +visitors at all. I was so afraid you would find out and not have me if +you knew, and, besides, I loved you too much." (But this was +evidently an after-thought, and I noted it as such. Her true reason +was given first.) "And I knew Nanine would take all my money, whatever +I got. She is good to the girls here, but she takes all their money, +all, they never have any. So I said to myself, 'What is the use? +Besides, he will come soon and take you away.' And to Nanine I +said--'Englishman will be so angry with you and with me, perhaps he +will kill you or tell the police if you do not keep me for him.' And +when the money came Nanine was quite pleased and said perhaps you +would pay more when you came, so she did not worry me with Chinamen or +any one, and I've had this room all to myself since I've been here. +And I was very much afraid of you, Treevor, if I did anything at all, +so I really, really have not." + +I kept my eyes fixed on hers all the time she was speaking, and I felt +as the words came eagerly from her lips that they were the truth. Her +exquisite, untouched beauty, her ardour of passionate welcome to me +helped to illustrate it. + +I smiled at her. + +"Well, I am quite satisfied," I said; "I believe you have been 'good,' +as you call it, because you were afraid to be otherwise. I want to +hear a lot more about your husband and how you came here, but I think +we had better get out of this place as soon as we can. Have you any +things you want to take with you?" + +"Only this," she said, pointing to an odd, little, hide-covered trunk +beside her. "That has my silk clothes in it and my jewellery. If you +want me to come away I can come now." + +I sat silent for a moment, thinking. Where should I take her? Back to +my own hotel perhaps for this one night. It might be managed. It was +getting late, most of the people in the hotel would be in bed when we +got there. To-morrow or the next day we could start for Mexico, where +I had made up my mind to go with her. + +"Very well," I said aloud; "shut up your trunk and put something round +you, and we'll go now." + +"You will see Nanine? You will speak to her? Let me call her," said +Suzee rather anxiously. And as I assented she slipped out of the room +and reappeared with a fat, coarse-looking woman who grinned amiably as +she saw me. She agreed to let Suzee go with me then and there for +another hundred dollars, and said her little trunk should be sent +downstairs and put on a cab which the guide could get for us. + +While this was being done, she chatted to me, thanked me for the money +I had cabled over, and hoped I was satisfied with Suzee, her +appearance, and the treatment she had received. I said I was, and +asked how it was the girl had come to her at all. She seemed a little +confused at that, and began to explain volubly that she had had +nothing to do with it. Suzee had come there one night and begged to be +taken in, and as she had known some of the girl's people who had +formerly lived in Chinatown, she had done so out of pure pity and +charity and love of humanity. + +I listened to all this with a smile, and, as I felt I was not getting +the truth, did not prolong the conversation. When the guide came back +and said he was ready for us I paid the one hundred dollars and wished +her good-night. + +She opened the outer door of the room for us, and we went down a +staircase this time which eventually led us to a door in another yard +from which we gained the street. The ladder way, I take it, was used +chiefly as a convenient exit in case of a raid by the police. I put +Suzee into the cab and jumped in myself, the guide went on the box, +and we drove back to the hotel. + +It needed a certain amount of moral courage to drive up to the hotel +with the scarlet-clad Suzee beside me, but I think possibly artists +have a larger share of that useful quality than other men. Always +having been different from others since his childhood, the artist is +accustomed to the gaping wonder, the ridicule as well as the +admiration, the misunderstanding, of those about him, and it ceases to +affect him; while viewing as he does his companions with a certain +contempt, knowing them to be less gifted than himself, he sets no +store by their opinion. + +So I paid and dismissed my guide, also the driver, pushed open the +swinging glass doors, and entered the lounge, Suzee beside me. + +We were not late enough; in another hour the hall would have been +deserted. As it was, the band had ceased playing, but there were +numbers of men lounging about and smoking, and groups of women still +sitting in the rocking-chairs under the palms. + +Through the hall we went, straight to the lift, but every eye was +turned upon us and I felt rather than heard the gasp of horror that +our entry caused. The elevator boy almost collapsed on the ground as I +motioned Suzee to go in and sit down, which she did--on the floor. + +However, no actual force was used to restrain our movements, and we +reached my rooms without any hindrance. + +It was decidedly an improvement to have her there; the rooms looked +better, more comfortable, more as my rooms were accustomed to look. + +Suzee herself was extravagantly delighted, and shewed it in every look +and gesture. Gay and radiant in her brilliant scarlet silk, she moved +about under the electric light like a glowing animated picture. + +"What will you have to eat or drink?" I asked as I saw her look +curiously into the jug of iced water that adorned my table. "I'll +order some supper." + +"Anything, Treevor, anything you eat; I don't mind, and I never drink +anything but tea. May I get out my own tea-things and make it?" + +"Certainly," I answered, and I watched her interestedly as she went +down on her knees before her little trunk and opened it, turning out +beautiful coloured silks of all shades on to the floor. + +While we were thus innocently engaged the hotel manager burst suddenly +into the room. He looked very perturbed, and his face was a deep +purple. + +"Now, sir, will you tell me what you mean by behaving like this in a +respectable hotel?" + +He caught sight of Suzee sitting on the ground and started; the girl +stared up at him with a look of astonishment in which I thought +recognition blended. + +"Come outside," I said mildly, "and take a turn in the corridor with +me." And we both went out and shut the door. + +I talked with him for fifteen minutes and explained it was unwise and +unnecessary to make a great fuss and turn a good customer into the +streets at this late hour. We were going in any case as soon as we +could get off; in the mean time, the engagement of the next room to +mine at seven dollars a day for Suzee would satisfy the proprieties. +An artist must have models for his pictures and must put them up +somewhere. Besides, I pointed out that he could put all my +transgressions down at full length in the bill. + +This seemed to soothe him very much, and our interview ended by his +unlocking the door of the next room, turning on the lights, and saying +what a fine one it was. I promised Suzee should occupy it, and told +him we wanted supper and some champagne he could recommend. This +completely softened him, and he left me promising to send the waiter +for orders. + +In a few minutes the same bell-boy appeared with another of the +inevitable jugs of iced water, and a waiter came immediately after and +took my orders. All this being temporarily arranged, I went back to +Suzee. She had changed in that short time from her scarlet dress into +one of the palest blue, the most exquisite soft tone of colour +conceivable. It was all embroidered round the edge of the little +jacket and the wide falling sleeves in mauve and silver, and she had +twisted some mauve flowers and heavy silver ornaments into her shining +hair. Her great dark eyes flashed and sparkled, the pure tint of her +skin shewed the most faultless cream against the soft blue silk, her +little mouth curved redly in gay smiles as she looked at me for +admiration. + +I was sad and heart-sick really in my inner self, but the senses count +for much in this life and they were pleased and told me I had done +well. + +"I am quite, quite happy, Treevor," she said, as I told her she was +beautiful, a vision to dazzle one. "Now see me make tea. All Chinese +make it this way." + +On a little side table she had rigged up a sort of spirit stand, and +on this a kettle steamed merrily. Set out on the table was a queer +little silver box of tea and four delicate, transparent cups or +basins, for they had no handles, of the most fairy-like egg-shell +china, each standing in a shell-like saucer. + +"Where is your teapot?" I asked, coming up to the table and putting my +hand on the blue silk-clad shoulder. + +"Chinese never have teapot. That's all an English mistake. Chinese +always make tea in a cup." + +She took as she spoke a pinch of tea between her tiny fingers and +dropped it into one of the cups, immediately filling it up with +boiling water. Then she took the saucer from underneath and set it on +the top, its rim exactly enclosed the edge of the cup. Raising the +saucer a trifle at one side, she poured the infusion into one of the +other little bowls, keeping her finger on the saucer to hold it in +place. The tea leaves, kept back by the saucer, remained in the first +cup. The tea, a clear, pale-amber liquid, filled the second. + +"Now it is ready to drink," she said, lifting the tiny egg-shell bowl +and handing it to me. + +"Don't you have any milk or sugar?" I said, taking the hot basin in my +hand and holding it by a little rim at the bottom, the only place one +could hold it for the heat. + +"No, anything else spoil it. You drink that and I make you another." + +She threw away the first leaves, put a fresh pinch of tea in, filled +up the bowl and strained it off into another as before, then picked up +the second by the bottom rim, drained it, and repeated the process +with marvellous rapidity. I watched her, sipping my own. + +"Do you like it?" she asked. "It is real gold-tipped Orange Pekoe. +Very good tea, indeed!" + +I drank it. It had a wonderful flavour. I told her so and took another +cup, to her great delight. + +The waiter came in, laid our supper on the table, put the champagne in +ice, and departed. I offered Suzee the wine, but she said she had all +the tea she could drink. She was willing to eat, however, and we sat +down to the table. + +"I want you to tell me all about what happened at Sitka," I said. "How +did poor old Hop Lee die?" + +"Oh, it was all such a dreadful thing, Treevor," she returned, +spreading out both hands, on the wrists of which heavy silver bangles +set with amethysts shone and tinkled. "He went down one day to Fort +Wrangle on business and when he came back one day after, he had a +fearful cough, and then he got very ill and went to bed, and I sat +beside him and he got worse and worse. Oh, so bad, and the doctor came +and he had very much medicine, and then his chest began to bleed, and +he coughed very much blood for days and days and weeks, and I nursed +him all that time, Treevor, all night long. I got no sleep at all; oh, +it was very, very bad." + +I looked at her curiously. I could not somehow picture Suzee as the +devoted nurse passing sleepless nights and never absent from the +pillow of the suffering Hop Lee. + +As I looked at her, I noticed the strange thickening of the features +and darkening of the skin I had noted before at Sitka, and knew the +blood was mounting into the face, though she could not blush, as the +English girl blushes, red. + +"It is really true, Treevor," she said, in an aggrieved tone. + +"I am not contradicting you," I replied calmly, "go on." + +"At last he died," she continued, though in rather a sulky tone, "and +doctor said I might die too, I had made myself so ill, so thin with +waiting on him. My bones stuck out so," she put her hands edgeways to +her sides to indicate how her ribs, now remarkably well covered, had +stood out from her sufferings; but remembering the fictitious blows +she had recounted to me when I first met her, I was not so much +stirred by her recital as I might otherwise have been. + +"And what about the child?" I asked. + +"The boy? Oh, Treevor, he died very soon after. He caught cold from +his father, I think." + +"Did he die of cold and cough, too, then?" I asked. + +"Yes, he coughed till he died. Oh, I cried so much when he died. My +baby boy, my very big baby, I did love him so." + +She blinked her glorious eyes very much as if they were full of tears +at the recollection, but I did not see any fall, and she pursued her +supper without any interruption of appetite. + +I sat back in my chair, watching her and musing. Poor old Hop Lee! I +wondered what his last moments had been like, and whether those dainty +fingers had really been employed smoothing his brow, or counting his +effects, at the last? + +"And then what came after?" I asked. "How did it come that you were to +be sold, as you said?" + +"We were very poor when he died; so poor, and we owed a lot, and his +brother came up from Juneau and took over the tea-shop and everything. +Then he said he had offer from big Chinaman who would buy me, and he +said my husband owe him lot of money, he sell me, get it back, and he +sent me down to Nanine in 'Frisco to give to big Chinaman; but I told +Nanine you would give more, so Nanine kept me for you." + +"But how will your husband's brother get the money for you in that +case?" I said. + +"What a lot of questions you do ask, Treevor!" she returned sulkily. +"I don't know how he will get the money. He will make Nanine give him +some, I suppose. Let us forget it all, I don't want to think of that +any more." + +I laughed. + +"Very well. If you have finished your supper, come over here and sit +on my knee and we will forget it all, as you say." + +She rose willingly and came over to me, a lovely, shimmering, Oriental +vision, dainty and perfect. + +"I must paint you, Suzee, some day just as you appear now and call you +The Beauty of China, or something like that. You seem the joy of the +East incarnate." + +Suzee frowned and then smiled. + +"I do not like such long words. I do not understand you when you talk +like that; but I love you, Treevor, so, so much." + +The misty light of dawn was rolling over 'Frisco when I shewed Suzee +her own room, where according to the pact with the manager, she was to +sleep. + +She shivered as we went into it. + +"Oh, Treevor, what a great big room," she said; "I am frightened at +it. Won't you stay with me? Or let me be in yours?" + +"I said you should sleep here," I answered; "so you must. Jump into +bed quick and go to sleep; you will soon forget the size of the room. +I am dead tired now, I must go and get some sleep myself. Good-night, +dear." + +I kissed her and went back to the sitting-room. The morning light +struggling with the artificial fell on the table with its scattered +plates and glasses, and on her little trunk and the unpacked silken +clothes. + +I turned out the lights and drew up the blinds, and stood looking out. +The waves of soft white fog filled the empty streets. All was quiet, +white, in the dawn. + +I had said I was tired, yet now sleep seemed far from my eyes, and my +mind flew out over intervening space to Viola, longing to find her, +wherever she was. + +Where would she be? I could imagine her waking with this same dawn in +her calm, innocent bed, and gazing, too, into this white light, and +longing for me. Surely she would be that? The words of her letter came +back to me: the time would pass "slowly as a winter night to me, your +Viola." + +She was right. Nothing could divide us permanently, really. Perhaps +even Death would be powerless to do that. + +I had a dissatisfied feeling with myself. Would it have been better, I +asked myself, to have waited through this year alone, since nothing +could really satisfy or delight me in her absence? What was the good, +after all, of chasing the mere shadow of the joy I had with her? + +But, strangely enough, I felt that Viola had no wish that I should +pass this mysterious year of separation she had imposed upon us, +alone. + +She had confessed her inability to share my love with any other. The +incident of Veronica had made that clear; but now that she chose to +deny herself to me she seemed rather to wish than otherwise that I +should seek adventures, experiences elsewhere. And I felt +indefinitely, yet strongly, that the more I could crush into this year +of life and of artistic inspiration, especially the latter, the +happier she would feel when we met. + +Perhaps she wished to tire me with lesser loves, certain that her own +must prevail against them. Perhaps she had even left me solely for +this, with this idea. Knowing herself unable to bear the pain of +infidelity to her when she was present, yet, accepting it as tending +to some ultimate psychological end, she had withdrawn herself from me. + +I remembered she had said once to me: + +"I would so much rather be a man's last love, the crowning love of +his life, the one whose image would be with him as he passed from this +world, than his first; poor little toy of his youth, forgotten, +unheeded, effaced by the passions of his life at the zenith." + +Perhaps, ... but, ah! what was the use of speculation when it might +all be wrong? + +Some reason was there, guiding that subtle mystery of her brain, and +I, if I fulfilled her expressed wishes, was doing the utmost to carry +out that plan of hers which I could not yet understand. + +A feeling of excessive weariness invaded me, mental and physical, and +as the light grew stronger, breaking into day, I went to my own room +to sleep. + +As soon as I woke I got up and went to look at my new possession. To +my surprise the room seemed empty. I looked round. No Suzee. I went up +to the bed. It had apparently not been slept in, but two of the +blankets had been pulled off and disappeared. + +As I stood by the bedside, wondering what had become of her, I felt a +soft kiss on my ankles and, looking down, there she was, creeping out +from under the bed with one of the blankets round her. Her hair was a +lovely undisarranged mass; but the rosebuds in it were dead, and it +was dusty. Her face looked like white silk in its youthful pallor. She +smiled up delightedly at me and crawled out farther from the bed +valance. + +"What are you doing down there?" I asked. "Wasn't the bed +comfortable?" + +"Oh yes, Treevor, underneath I was very comfortable and warm. You see, +I have always been accustomed to something over my head, and in this +room the ceiling is such a long way off." + +She got up and stood before me, her rounded shoulders and sweetly +moulded arms shewing above the blanket. + +"You don't mind, do you?" she added, with a note of quick anxiety. + +I laughed as I remembered the low ceilings, almost on one's head, that +are the rule in Chinatown, and caught her up in my arms. + +"No, I don't mind," I said; "only get into bed now, and don't shew +that you have slept underneath instead of inside. I am going to order +breakfast and I will call you in a minute or two." + +I threw her on to the bed, into which she rolled like a kitten, kissed +her, and went back to my own room. + +When we had had breakfast I took Suzee with me on the car, and all the +eyes of its occupants fixed upon us for the whole of the journey. This +was harmless, however, and I did not mind, while Suzee sat apparently +sublimely unconscious of the rude stares and ruder smiles, with the +calm gravity of the Oriental who is above insults because he considers +himself above criticism. + +At the office where I went to buy tickets for our journey I was put to +worse annoyance. I had taken tickets for two from 'Frisco to City of +Mexico when the clerk, looking suddenly from me to my childish +companion, said: "We can't give you a section,[A] sir." + +"Why not?" I demanded. + +"Only married couples," he remarked tersely, and turned away. + +I told Suzee to go outside, and went to another part of the office, +bought my section ticket from another clerk while the first was +engaged, and then joined her. I began to realise that petty +difficulties would line the path the whole way, and I must make some +effort to minimise them. + +We went to a café for lunch, and after seating ourselves at a table a +little away from the staring crowd, I said: "I expect it would be +better if we got you some American clothes." + +"Very well, Treevor," she returned docilely, and leant her pretty, +round, ivory-hued cheek on her hand as she looked across at me +adoringly. Had I suggested cutting off her head, I believe she would +have looked the same. + +"We must try after lunch to get some," I continued. "And don't be too +submissive to me in public. You see, it's not at all the fashion with +us for wives to be that way, and it makes people think you are not +mine." + +Suzee laughed gaily: the idea seemed to amuse her. + +After lunch we went to one of the large stores, and Suzee, in her +scarlet silk attracted of course general attention. We found, however, +a sensible saleswoman to whom I explained that I wanted a grey +travelling costume, and she and Suzee disappeared from me entirely, +into the fitting-room. + +Left alone, I swung myself back on a chair and lapsed into thought. + +When Suzee at last came back an exclamation broke from me. She was +spoilt. Lovely as she seemed in her own picturesque clothing, in the +rough grey cloth of hideous Western dress she looked simply a little +guy. Reading my face at a glance, her own clouded instantly, and in +another second she would have thrown herself at my feet had I not +warned her by a look and a gesture not to. I sprang up and turned to +the saleswoman. + +"Is this the best, the prettiest costume you have?" I asked. + +"Yes, sir. You see it's so difficult to fit the young lady without any +corsets, and she is really so short we have only a few skirts that +will do for her." + +I looked at Suzee as she stood before me. The figure, so exquisite in +its lines when unclothed, looked too soft and shapeless under the +cloth coat. She appeared absurdly short, too, beside the American +assistant, who stood at least five feet eleven. I could not bear to +see my little Suzee so disfigured. However, that she looked far more +ordinary could not be disputed. She would attract less attention now, +and that might be an advantage. Her head was still bare and had its +Oriental character, but the colour of her skin against the grey cloth +lost its creaminess that it had possessed above the blue silk jacket. +It now looked merely sallow. + +I paid nine guineas for the hideous dress, ordered the silk clothes to +be sent to the hotel, and then we went on to the millinery. Amongst +these frightful edifices my heart sank still more, but I steeled +myself to the ordeal, and, choosing out the simplest grey one I could +find, directed the giggling young shop-assistant to try it on Suzee. + +The immense coiffure of shining black hair of the Chinese girl did not +lend itself to any Western hat. Hat and hair together made her head +appear out of proportion to the small, short figure. + +At last, in despair, I said: + +"You must alter your hair and do it in a different way. Could you take +it down now and roll it up small at the back, do you think?" + +Suzee gazed on me in mild surprise. + +"Take my hair down, here and now! Why, it's done up for a fortnight!" +she answered simply, while the shop-girl turned away to replace a hat +and hide her titters. + +"Do you only do your hair once a fortnight?" I enquired, surprised in +my turn. + +"Yes, that's all. It's such a bother to do. It was done just before +you came. I thought it would do for a month, I took such pains with +it." + +A month! So that beautiful, scented, shining coiffure was only brushed +out once a month! + +A sudden memory of Viola and her gleaming light tresses swept over me, +as I had seen them at night lying on her shoulders. But had I not +often waited for her till I was deadly sleepy, and when at length she +came to the bedside and I had asked her what she had been doing all +that time, had she not generally said--"brushing her hair"? + +Perhaps, after all, a coiffure that never detained its owner at night +except once a month might have its advantages. + +By the time these reflections had swept over me, Suzee herself had +found a little grey velvet hat that looked less dreadful than the +rest. I had only to pay for it, which I did, and she walked away with +me in her Western clothes. At the glove counter things went well, and +she triumphed over her civilised sisters. Her tiny supple hands were +easily fitted by number five, and tired and thirsty with our efforts +we left the store and found our way to a tea-shop. + +The change in dress made matters easier. She did not attract much +notice now; and unless any one looked very closely at her, she would +pass for any little ordinary, unattractive European girl. It rather +ruffled my vanity to think she should look like this, but I consoled +myself with thinking of the evening, when the hideous disguise could +be laid aside and she would appear again in her amber beauty and I +could pose her in a hundred ways. + +We had several cups of tea apiece. Very good I found it, though Suzee +somewhat disdainfully remarked it was not like China tea; and then +returned to the hotel. + +As I passed through the swing doors with my reclothed and much altered +companion, the proprietor came hastily forwards with protestation +written on his face. He evidently thought I had erred again and this +was another investment. He was about to impart vigorously his opinion +of me when a hasty glance at Suzee's face and my bland look of enquiry +stopped him. Instead of addressing us, he wheeled round discomfited +and disappeared into his bureau. + +"Why does that man always look so crossly at you?" enquired Suzee, as +we were walking down the passage to our rooms. + +"He does not approve of my wickedness in having you here," I answered +laughing. "He thinks a man must never be with any woman but his wife." + +"And has he a wife?" + +"Yes, that great creature you saw sitting in the glass desk +downstairs." + +Suzee threw up her chin and pursed up her soft blue-red lips. + +"I know that man by sight quite well. He was always down with the +girls in Chinatown. He was one of Nanine's best customers." + +I laughed as I put the key in, and opened our door. + +"That accounts then, quite, for his terrific propriety in his hotel," +I answered. "It's always the way. You can tell the really vicious +person by his affected horror of vice." + +We dined upstairs, and directly after dinner I got her to pose for me +that I might catch the first idea for my picture "The Joy of the +East." + +She still shewed an apparently unconquerable objection to any undraped +study, so I did not press it, but told her to dress as she had been +dressed the previous night, in blue and mauve with silver ornaments, +and I would take her in that. + +While she was arraying herself I sat back in my chair, thinking. + +How strange it was that a girl like Viola, who I believed would have +been burnt alive rather than let an untruth pass her lips, who could +not possibly have done a dishonourable action, had posed for me so +simply and fearlessly, viewing the whole matter from that artistic +standpoint which is so lofty because so really pure; and this girl, +whose soul, as I knew, was full of trickery and treachery, and whose +lips were worn with lies, clothed herself about with this ridiculous +prudery and imagined it was modesty! + +She came back presently, wonderfully lovely in the bizarre Oriental +costume, and I wanted her to stand on tiptoe, leaning towards me and +laughing. + +But she was not a good model; she soon grew tired and failed to keep +the same pose or expression. She fidgeted so, that at last I laid the +paper aside. + +"Your expression won't go with that title," I said. "What is the +matter? Can't you stand still and look happy for fifteen minutes?" + +"It's so tiring to stand quite still," she said crossly, and my heart +reproached me as I thought of Viola and the hours she had stood for me +without a word of complaint in the London studio! + +"Well, I'll try another picture. I shall call it 'The Spoiled +Favourite of the Harem,' Throw yourself into that chair and look as +cross as you like." + +Suzee sat down opposite me. I put her head back against the chair; her +right arm hung over the side, in her left hand she held a cigarette, +one foot was bent under her, the other swung listlessly to the ground. + +Her expression, restless and dissatisfied, her attitude, weary and +enervated, gave the idea of the title admirably, and I made a good +sketch. + +She was sitting down now so she could keep still without much +difficulty, and her air of _ennui_ suited this theme well enough. + +As soon as I had finished the sketch and told her she might get up she +was delighted. She did not seem to take much interest in the picture, +however, but rather regard it grudgingly as it took up my attention. +She was only happy again when I took her on my knees and caressed her, +telling her she was the loveliest Eastern I had ever seen. + +The following day we started on our journey southward. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote A: Sleeping berth for two persons in the Pullman car.] + + + + +CHAPTER X + +IN THE SHADOW OF THE VOLCANO + + +The journey down to the City of Mexico, in itself, was a delight to +me, and I felt how infinitely more I could have enjoyed it had Viola +been with me. + +My present companion did not seem able to appreciate any but physical +beauty. If a good looking man came on board the train she glanced over +him, demurely enough, but with the eye of a connoisseur. The glorious +beauty, however, of the painted skies and magnificent stretches of +open country we were passing through affected her not at all. + +For four days, on either side of the train, America unrolled before us +her vast tracts of entrancing beauty, from which I could hardly tear +my gaze, and this little almond-eyed doll sat in a lump on the seat +opposite me yawning and fidgeting, or else reading some childish book; +or spent the time at the other end of the car playing with some +American children on board the train. + +I did not intend to have my journey spoilt by her, so I gave my own +attention to the scene and told her to go and play, if she wished, or +buy oranges and pictures from the train-venders, do anything she +liked, in fact, as long as she did not disturb me and prevent my +taking a pleasure in the beauty she could not see. + +Suzee, annoyed at my admiration of something she could not +appreciate, was mostly sulky and pettish through the day, regaining +her good temper at night when we retired into our section. + +As a toy to caress, to fondle, she was enchanting. Nature had +apparently made her for that and for nothing else. Her extreme youth, +her beauty, her joy in love, made her irresistible at such moments. +And as I was young, at the height of youth's powers and desires, our +relations in that way held a great deal of pleasure for us both. + +But that was the limit. Beyond this there was nothing. + +That exquisite mental companionship, that sharing of every thought and +idea, that constant conversation on all sorts of subjects that +interested us both, all this which I had had with Viola, and which +filled so perfectly those intervals when the tired senses ask for, and +can give, no more pleasure, was completely absent here. + +That delight in beauty which is to an artist as much a part of his +life as another man's delight in food or wine Viola had shared with me +in an intense degree. + +And sharing any of the delights of life with one we love enhances them +enormously. One can easily imagine a gourmand being dissatisfied with +his wife if she resolutely refused to share any of his meals! + +Now, as I gazed through the windows of the slow-moving train and saw +the long blue lines of the level-topped hills, the deep purple edges +of the vast table-lands rising against the amber or the blood red +evening skies, I longed for Viola with that inward longing of the soul +which nothing but the presence of its own companion can satisfy. + +One evening, as I gazed out, the whole prairie was bathed in +rose-coloured light that appeared to ripple over it in pink waves. The +tall grass, tall as that of an English hay-field, seemed touched with +fire; far on every side stretched the open plain, absolutely level, +bounded at last in the far distance by that deep purple wall of +mountains, flat-topped, level-lined also, against the sky, the great +mesas or table-lands of Mexico. + +And in this vast expanse of waving grasses and low flowering shrubs, +in the pink glow of the evening, stood out two graceful forms, a pair +of coyotes, distinct against the sunset behind them. Only these two +were visible in all that great lonely plain, and they stood together +watching the train go by, their sinuous bodies and low sweeping tails +touched and tipped with fire in the ruby light. + +How delighted Viola would have been with that scene, I thought +regretfully, as the train carried us through it. + +When we arrived at the City of Mexico, we drove to the Hotel Iturbide +and took a room high up on the third floor, to be well lifted out of +the suffocating atmosphere of the streets. + +Suzee was a little overawed by the height of the long, narrow room +that we had assigned to us in this, at one time, palace, but when she +saw that the bed was comfortable and there was a large mirror before +which she could array and re-array herself, she was satisfied. + +I saw the room would be a very difficult one to paint in, for it was +dark in spite of the tall window which opened on to an iron balcony +running across the front of the hotel. + +The window was draped with thick red curtains and had a deep, handsome +cornice hanging over it. + +Suzee went on to the balcony immediately and was delighted with the +incessant stream of gaily dressed people passing underneath. This was +the main street of the city. Not very wide, flanked with lofty, old, +picturesquely built houses on each side, of which the lower part was +often shop or restaurant, it presented somewhat the same heavy, gloomy +appearance as the streets in Italian towns. The air was thick, +dust-laden, and evil-smelling, for the City of Mexico, though at an +elevation of 8,000 feet, has none of the crisp, healthful clearness, +usually to be found at that altitude. Built over the bed of an +enormous dried up lake, in the centre of an elevated table-land, it +is, even at the present day, badly drained and unhealthy. + +We had some tea brought up to us and took it at a little table drawn +close to the window,--Suzee chattering away to me of the delights of +this new big city--as big as 'Frisco, she thought. And what gay hats +the women wore! She saw them passing underneath. Would I not take her +out to the shops and buy a great big white muslin hat like theirs, +covered with pink roses? + +I promised I would, watching her with a smile. + +She was certainly very lovely just now. She seemed to have bloomed +into fairer beauty than she had possessed at Sitka. + +Doubtless her gratified passion and happy relations with me helped to +this result, for a woman's beauty depends almost wholly on her inner +life, the life of her emotions and passions. + +After tea we went downstairs, hired a carriage, and drove to the +Paseo--or laid-out drive--which is the thing to do in Mexico at that +hour; and to follow the custom of the country you are in is the first +golden rule of the traveller who would enjoy himself. + +It was about six o'clock, and darkness was closing in on the thick, +dust-filled air as we drove with the stream of other vehicles of all +descriptions, from the poorest hired carriage to the most splendidly +appointed barouche, into the Paseo, a wide, sweeping drive, lined each +side with trees and lighted with rows of electric arc-light lamps, +some of which glowed pinkly or sputtered out blue rays in the dusk. + +It has never seemed to me a very cheerful matter, this drive between +the lights in the formal Paseo, this great string of carriages drawn +mostly by poor unhappy horses and filled with dressed-up women who +stare rudely at each other as they pass and re-pass, solemn and silent +ghosts in a world of grey shadow! + +But the fashion amongst the Mexican women of painting and powdering to +an inordinate degree perhaps accounts for their love of this hour +between the lights, when they imagine the falseness of their +complexion cannot be detected. + +After about an hour's drive we came back, the great arc-lights now +sending their uncertain, shifting glare across the road and serving to +show the heavy dust through which we moved. Seen sideways, the ray of +light looked solid, so thick was the atmosphere. + +When we came back we dined, and then sat outside our window on the +iron balcony, looking down at the gay scene below. + +The street was fully lighted now by powerful lamps of electricity, +some belonging to the roadway, others hung out over restaurants and +shops. The latter were all open, having been closed through the middle +of the day. The cafés and restaurants were in full swing, half the +populace seemed in the street, either walking or driving. + +"We will go to a theatre as soon as they open," I said. "I don't think +any of them begin till half-past nine or ten." + +Suzee clapped her hands. + +"That will be nice, Treevor," she said. + +"I did like the theatre in Chinatown. I went with Nanine sometimes." + +So at half-past nine we drove to a theatre. The performance began at +ten o'clock and continued till one in the morning, with a break in the +middle for supper. + +It was a light musical farce, well acted and sung, and I enjoyed it. + +Suzee looked on profoundly silent, and seemed to be quite wide-awake +all through it. Just before one o'clock she leant to me and whispered: + +"When does the killing begin?" + +"Killing?" I returned. "I don't think there'll be any, what do you +mean?" + +"Oh," she said, "in Chinese theatres there is always very much +killing; every one's head comes off at the end." + +I laughed. + +"You little monster," I whispered; "is that what you came to see?" +Suzee nodded. + +"All Chinese plays like that," she answered. + +We waited till the curtain fell, but there was no killing and all the +heads were left on at the end. Suzee looked quite disappointed, and +explained to me as we were driving away that that was no play at all. + +The next morning we were up very late, and after breakfast in our room +there was only time to drive out to the shops and buy for Suzee one of +the hats she coveted before luncheon. + +All Orientals have a wonderful, artistic instinct for fabrics and +colours, and always, when left alone, clothe themselves with exquisite +taste. But this instinct seems to desert them when brought amongst +European manufactures and into the sphere of European tints. Suzee now +chose an enormous white hat wreathed round with poppies and +cornflowers that I certainly should not have chosen for her. However, +it pleased and satisfied her, and she was in great good-humour in +consequence. + +I found some letters for me at the hotel, forwarded from the club. My +heart sank as I saw there was none from Viola. I thought she might +have written again.... + +There was one from a friend of mine who was attached to the embassy +here, and he asked me to go and dine with him that evening, or name +some other, if I were engaged that day. + +I looked up at Suzee. + +"I have an invitation here to go out to dinner," I said to her; "do +you think you can amuse yourself without me this evening?" + +Suzee looked sulky. + +"You are going out all the evening without me? Can't I come too?" + +"I am afraid not," I answered. + +"Why? Is it a woman you are going to?" + +"No, it is not," I answered a little sharply. + +How different this sulky questioning was from Viola's bright way of +assenting to any possible suggestion of mine for my own amusement or +benefit! + +How different from this her quick: + +"Oh yes, do go, Trevor, do not think about me, I shall be quite happy +looking forward to your coming back!" + +Suzee pushed out her lips. + +"How long will you be?" she asked. + +"I shall go just before seven and return about ten," I answered. "You +must get accustomed to amusing yourself. I can't always be with you." + +"I can amuse myself," returned Suzee sulkily. "All the same, I believe +it's a woman you are going to." + +The blood rushed over my face with anger and annoyance, but I +restrained myself and made no answer. She was so much of a child, it +seemed absurd to enter into argument or to get angry with her. + +I went back to reading my other letters and occupied myself with +answering them till luncheon. + +That evening about seven I was dressing for dinner, Suzee standing by +me or playing with my things and somewhat impeding me, as usual. She +seemed to have recovered from her ill-temper and was all smiles and +gay prattle. + +Before I took up my hat and coat to leave I bent over her and kissed +her. + +"You understand, I don't want you to leave this room till I come back. +They will bring up your dinner here, and you can sit on the balcony +and smoke, and you have lots of picture-books to amuse you. I shall be +back at ten." + +She kissed me and smiled and promised not to leave the room, and I +went out. + +I really enjoyed the evening with my friend. It was a relief to talk +again with one who possessed a full-grown mind after being so long +with a childish companion, and the time passed pleasantly enough. A +quarter to ten seemed to come directly after dinner and my companion +was astonished at my wanting to leave so early. + +I explained the situation in a few words and, of course, caused +infinite amusement to my practical friend. + +"The idea of you living with a Chinese infant like that!" he +exclaimed. "I shall hear of your being fascinated with a Hottentot +next, I suppose." + +"Maybe," I answered, putting on my hat. "Anyway, I must go now; thanks +all the same for wishing me to stay." + +I left him and walked rapidly back in the direction of the Iturbide. +Some of the shops were still open, and as I passed down the main +street the brilliant display in a jeweller's window, under the +electric light, attracted my attention. + +I paused and looked in. I thought I would buy and take back some +little thing to Suzee. It had been a dull evening for her. I went in +and chose a necklet of Mexican opals. These, though not so lovely as +the sister stone we generally buy in England, have a rich red colour +and fire all their own. + +I had not enough money with me to pay for it, but with that delightful +confidence in an Englishman--often unfortunately misplaced--one finds +in some distant countries, the shopman insisted on my taking it, and +said he would send to the hotel in the morning for the money. + +I slipped the case in my pocket and went on to the Iturbide. + +After all, I thought, as I neared home, with all her faults she was a +very attractive and dear little companion to be going back to. + +Full of pleasure at the thought of bestowing the gift and the joy it +would give her, I ran up the stone stairs without waiting for the lift +and pushed open the door of our room. + +I entered softly, thinking she might be curled up asleep, but as I +crossed the threshold I heard the sound of laughter. The next moment I +saw there were two figures standing at the end of the long room in +front of the window. + +Suzee had her back to me and a man was standing beside her. Just as I +came in I saw her raise her face, and the man put his arm round her +and kiss her. Two or three steps carried me across the room and I +struck them apart with a blow on the side of the man's head that sent +him reeling into a corner. + +It was the young Mexican waiter that had hitherto brought us all our +meals. + +The table was still covered with the dinner things, a bottle of wine +stood on it and two half-filled glasses. My impression, gathered in +that first furious glance, was that he had brought up her dinner and +she had invited him to stay and share at least the wine and +cigarettes. Some of these lay on the table, and the room was full of +smoke. + +Suzee gave a scream of terror and then crouched down on a chair, +looking at me. + +The waiter picked himself up, and, catching hold of his iron +stove-fitted basket in which he had brought up the dinner, slunk out +of the room. + +I was left alone with Suzee, and I looked at her, with an immense +sense of disgust and repulsion swelling up in me. + +"So you can't even be trusted an hour or two, it seems," I said +contemptuously, throwing myself into a chair opposite her. + +Suzee began to sob. Tears were her invariable refuge under all +circumstances. + +"Treevor, you were so long. I was all alone, and I was sure you were +with another woman." + +"If you would learn to believe what I say and not fancy every one +tells lies, as I suppose you do," I answered hotly, "it would be a +great deal better for you. I went to dine with a bachelor friend this +evening, as I told you, and what made me later than I otherwise should +have been was that I stopped to buy a present for you on my way back." + +Suzee's tears dried instantly. + +"A present! Oh, what is it, Treevor?" she said eagerly. "Do show it +me. Where is it?" + +I drew the case out of my pocket and opened it. The electric light +flashed on the opals, and they blazed with orange and tawny fires on +the white velvet. + +Suzee gave a little cry of wonder and delight, and then sat staring at +them breathlessly. + +"I don't feel at all inclined to give them to you now," I remarked +coldly. + +"Oh, yes, Treevor, _do_ let me have them. It was all the man's fault. +I did not want him. I could not help it." + +"I heard you laughing as I came in," I returned, more than ever +disgusted by her lies and her throwing all the blame on her companion. +"It's no use lying to me, Suzee, you found that out at Sitka. What I +want to make clear to you is this: if I find you doing this sort of +thing again I shall send you away from me altogether, because I won't +have it." + +Suzee looked terror-stricken. + +"Send me away! But what could I do? Where could I go?" + +"Where you pleased! You would not live any more with me." + +"Well, Treevor, I will not do it any more," she answered, her eyes +fixed on the jewels. "Do let me have the necklace. May I put it on?" + +And she stretched out her hand to grasp it from the table where I had +laid it. Her avarice, her lack of any real deep feeling about the +matter, filled me with irrepressible anger. + +I sprang to my feet and snatched the necklet up, case and all, and +flung it through the window. + +"No, you shall certainly not have it," I exclaimed. + +Suzee gave a shriek of pain and dismay as she saw the beloved jewels +flash through the air and disappear in the darkness, and rushed to the +window as if she would jump after them. + +Fearing she might call to the passers-by below and create a +disturbance, I took her by the shoulder and pulled her back into the +room. + +Then I shut the window and bolted it above her head. + +I walked over to the door of the room. + +"You had better go to bed," I said; "do not wait for me, I shall sleep +elsewhere." + +Then I went out and locked the door behind me, putting the key in my +pocket. + +I went down the passage slowly. My heart was beating fast and I felt +angry, but the anger was not that deep fierce agony of emotion I had +felt at times when Viola angered or grieved me. + +It was more a superficial sensation of disgust and repulsion that +filled me, and, after a few minutes, I grew calm and recovered my +self-possession. + +"What could I expect from a girl like this?" I asked myself. "What +could I expect but lies and deceit and trickery and infidelity? She +had shewn me all these at Sitka when I first met her." + +I had been willing enough to profit by them, but even then they had +disgusted me. Now I was in the position of Hop Lee, and as she had +treated him so would she treat me. It was true she professed to love +me, and did so in her way. But it was the way of the woman who is +bought and sold. + +And why should I feel specially repelled because I had found her with +a servant? Had she not come from a tea-shop in Sitka, where she +herself was serving? + +The Mexican boy was handsome enough. Doubtless he presented a +temptation to her. + +It was all my own fault, everything that had happened or would happen, +for choosing such an unsuitable companion. The light loves of an hour +with painted butterflies such as Suzee are well enough, but for life +together one must seek and find one's equal, one who sees with the +same eyes, who has the same standard as one's own of the fitness of +things, in whose veins runs blood of the same quality as one's own. + +Why had Viola left me? The thought came with a pang of anguish as my +heart called out for her. + +The corridor was a lofty one of stone. It was quite empty now and +unlighted. I walked on slowly in the dark till I came to a large +window on my right hand. This window overlooked a wide expanse of lead +roofs belonging to the lower stories of the hotel, and these commanded +a magnificent view of the whole city. + +I stepped out over the low sill and stood on the leads. The night was +soft and cool. The sky, full of the light of a rising moon, shewed +beautifully, against its luminous violet, the outlines of dome and +minaret and spire, and far out beyond the crowded city's confines, the +two incomparable mountains, Popocatepetl and Ixtaccihuatl, the huge +volcanoes, shrouded in eternal snow, rising a sheer ten thousand feet +from the level plain, standing like sentinels guarding the city. + +It was a magnificent panorama that surrounded me, a view to remember +for all time. Dome upon dome, rising one behind the other, of all +sizes and shapes, their beautiful tiles gleaming here and there as the +light from the rising moon touched them, delicate spires, pointing +upwards, tipped with silver light, low roof of the commoner's dwelling +and pillared façade of old and stately palace intervening, and, far +away, those cold white, solitary peaks overtopping all else, rising +into the region of the stars, made up a grand, impressive scene. + +As I looked all sense of petty annoyance dropped from me. I walked +forwards with a grateful sense of relief and took my seat on a +projecting ledge of one of the roofs and let my eyes wander over the +maze of dim outlines and shapes below me. + +How strange it was to think of the past history of the city! + +Far back in the dim ages, a clear and glorious lake had lain here +where now the city reared itself so majestically. In the centre of +this vast table-land, eight thousand feet above the sea, the blue +waters rested tranquilly, reflecting in their surface the fires and +the flames of those now silent, burnt-out volcanoes. + +The lake was inhabited by the lake-dwellers, quaint little people +living in their curious structures built on poles sunk in the water. +There they fished and made their nets and traded with each other, +passing backwards and forwards in their tiny dug-outs--whole crafts +made from a single hollowed-out log--on the gleaming waters, secure +from the raids of wild beasts or savages that the black, impenetrable +forests on the shore might harbour. + +Then came the Toltecs and the Aztecs with their refinement, their +civilisation, and the lake dried gradually through the years, and +causeways were built across the swamp, and one by one dwellings +appeared on the hardest, driest places, and step by step there grew to +be a city. Then came the Spaniards in later days, with the flaming +pomp of religion and the loathsome spirit of cruelty. They killed the +people by thousands with torture, and set up their churches to peace +and good-will. They overthrew the temples with murder and slaughter, +and reared altars to the Most High on the blood-soaked earth. + +And this city, as we see it to-day, with its countless beautiful +churches, its exquisite tiled domes flashing in the sun, is the work +of the Spaniards. And each church stands there to commemorate their +awful crimes. + +I sat on, as the hours passed, and watched the moon rise till it +poured its flood of silver light all over the city, sat thinking on +the horror of man and wondering what strange law has fashioned him to +be the devil he is. + +Towards sunrise, the wind blew cold off the marshes round the city, +and I went in and down to the lower floor of the hotel. + +Its world was fast asleep. In the hall I saw two Mexican porters in +their thin white clothes, curled up on the door mat, without covering +or pillow, fast asleep. + +I made my way to the little-used reception-room, found my way across +it to a wide old couch, threw myself upon it, and closed my eyes. The +couch smelt musty and the room seemed cold, but I was accustomed to +sleep anyhow and anywhere, and in a few moments, with my thoughts on +Viola, I drifted into oblivion. + +At breakfast time the next day I went to the administrador and told +him to send up ours by another waiter, and never to allow the former +one to come into our room again. Then I went upstairs to Suzee. As I +unlocked the door and entered I saw she was up and dressed. She came +to me, looking white and frightened. + +"Oh, Treevor, do forgive me, I never will again. Only say you forgive +me. I was so frightened all last night, I thought you had locked me up +here to starve." + +Again the absence of deep feeling, of any ethical consideration +prompting her contrition, jarred upon me. She would be good because +she did not want to starve or be otherwise punished. That was her view +of it, and that alone. + +I bent over her, took her hand, and kissed her. + +"We needn't think of it any more," I said gently. "Only you must +remember if such a thing occurs again, we cease to live together, +that's all." + +Suzee reiterated her promises with effusion, and presently an old, +grey-haired waiter appeared with our breakfast. + +I could not repress a smile as I saw the administrador had determined +to be on the safe side this time. + +Suzee was extremely amiable and docile all that day. + +Most women who do not shew gratitude for kindness and consideration, +when the man retaliates or shews any harshness, begin to improve +wonderfully; while a delicate nature like Viola's, that responds to +love and gives devotion in return, would meet that same harshness with +passionate resentment. Suzee sincerely mourned her lost jewels and +gazed wistfully and furtively down into the street where they had +gone in the darkness. + +I paid the bill for them that day, but I never knew what became of +them, nor whose neck they now adorn! + +The following day was Sunday, the day appointed by the Prince of +Peace, and dedicated here by his followers, the Christians, to the +torture and slaughter of their helpless companions in this world--the +animals. Sunday, throughout Mexico, is the day most usually fixed for +a bull-fight, and to-day there was going to be one, and Suzee had +begged me to take her to see it. + +I had hesitated, but finally given in, and taken seats for it. + +I felt a strong disinclination to witnessing what I knew would be +merely another example of the loathsome barbarity of the human race, +but it was my rule in life to see and study its different aspects, to +add to my knowledge of it whenever possible, and so I consented with a +sense of repulsion within me. Suzee was in the wildest delight. She +had talked to the waiter, it seemed, and had heard from him wonderful +stories of the big crowds of gaily dressed people in the large ring, +of the music, of the gaily dressed toreadors, of the clapping of hands +and the shouting. + +"And you feel no sympathy with the bull that is going to be killed or +the unfortunate horses?" I asked, looking across at her as we sat at +luncheon. + +Suzee looked grave. + +"I didn't think of that," she said. + +The great fault of the less guilty half of humanity--it does not +think! and the other half thinks evil. + +"Well, think now," I said sharply. "Would you like to have your inside +torn out for a gaping crowd to laugh at, to be tortured to death for +their Sunday diversion? For that is what you are going to see +inflicted on the animals this afternoon." + +Suzee regarded me with a frightened air. + +Presently she said, glibly: + +"Of course not, Treevor, and I am very, very sorry for the poor +animals if they are going to be hurt." + +"Of course they are," I said shortly; "that is what the whole city is +going to turn out to see." + +I felt she had no real appreciation of the subject, and that any +sympathetic utterance would be made to please me. How I hate being +with a companion who automatically says what will please me! A servile +compliance that one knows is false is more irritating to a person of +intellect than contradiction. + +How different Viola had always been! In physical relations she had +accepted me as her owner, master, conqueror. She had never sought to +deny or evade or resent the physical domination Nature has given the +male over the female. But her mind had been always her own. And what a +glorious strength and independence it possessed! Not even to me would +she ever have said what she did not believe. + +Like the old martyrs, she would have given herself to the rack or the +flames rather than let her lips frame words her brain did not approve. + +Her mind and her opinions were her own, not to be bought from her at +any price whatever, and, as such, they were worth something. + +The assent or dissent of the fool who agrees or disagrees from fear or +love is worth nothing when you've got it. + +We finished our luncheon and then, in a hired carriage, drove to the +Plaza de Toros. + +I, with a feeling of cold depression, Suzee, gaily dressed and in the +highest spirits. + +All the city was streaming out in splendid carriage or miserable shay. +Rich and cultured, poor and illiterate, human beings are all alike in +their love of butchery and blood. We reached the great ragged stretch +of open ground, hideous and bare enough, and the structure of the +bull-ring reared itself before us, a sinister curve against the +laughing blue of the sky. + +It seemed to hum like a great hive already; there was a crowd of the +poorer class about it, and men came continually in and out of the +little doors in its base. + +We dismissed our carriage at the outer edge of the ragged ground, the +driver insisting he could drive no farther. And the moment we had +alighted he turned his horses' heads and started them at a furious +gallop back to the city in the hope of catching another fare. + +We walked forwards towards the principal of the wickets through which +already the people were passing to their seats. In approaching the +bull-ring we had to pass by a circle of little buildings, low dens +with small barred windows and closed doors. Blood was trickling from +under some of these over the brown and dusty earth, and the low, heavy +breathing and groans of a horse in agony came from one or another at +intervals. + +I looked through the grated slit of one, as I passed, and saw two men, +or, rather, fiends in the shape of men, crouched on the floor of the +dark and noisome den. Between them lay outstretched the body of a +horse, old and thin, worn to the last gasp in the cruel service of the +streets. On its flank was a long open wound. One of the men, bending +over it, had a red-hot iron glowing in his hand. What they were going +to do I could not tell, and I did not wait to see. + +The horse was one, doubtless, which unhappily had survived last +Sunday's bull-fight, and was being horribly patched up, terribly +stimulated by agony to expend its last spark of vitality in this. + +In these loathsome little dens this fiendish work goes on, the poor +mangled brutes are brought out from the ring, their gaping wounds are +plugged with straw, or anything that is at hand, and then they are +thrust back on to the horns of the bull. + +More than ever filled with loathing of my kind, I passed on in silence +towards the ring. + +It was no use speaking to Suzee. She could not understand what I felt. +I thought of Viola. If she had been here, what would she have +suffered? Of all women I had met, I had never known one who had the +same exquisite compassion, the same marvellous sympathy for all living +things as she had. + +We shewed our tickets, passed through the wicket, and were inside the +vast circle. + +The impression on the eye as one enters is pleasing, or would be if +one's brain were not there to tell one of the scenes of infamy that +take place in that grand arena. + +Wide circles, great sweeping lines have always a certain fascination, +and the form that charms one in the coliseum is here also in these +modern imitations. + +The huge arena, empty now and clean, sprinkled with fine white sand, +and with circle after circle, tier after tier of countless seats +rising up all round, cutting at last the blue sky overhead, is in +itself impressive. + +We passed to our seats, which were a little low down, not much raised +above the level of the boarding running round the arena. + +They were on the coveted shady side of the ring, where the sun would +not be in our eyes. On the left of us was the President's box; +opposite, the seats of the common people, let cheap, because the sun's +rays would fall on them through all the afternoon. + +These were already full. Occupied by _women_, largely _women_. Dressed +in their gayest, with handkerchiefs in their hands ready to wave, with +brightly painted fans, they sat there laughing, talking, eating +sweets, making the ring in that quarter a flare of colour. + +Women! Ah, what a pity it is that there should be such women as these, +stony-hearted, stony-eyed, deaf to the dictates of mercy, of pity. +Women who can congregate with delight to see a fellow-creature die! + +For what are the animals but our fellow-creatures? With the same life, +the same heart-beats as our own! With whom, if we acted rightly, we +should share this world in kindly fellowship and love. + +The other seats in the shade were filling quickly; soon the whole mass +of dizzy circles, one above the other, flamed with brilliant colour +under the Mexican sun. + +Suddenly, with a great crash, the music burst out, and a triumphal +march rolled over the arena as the President and his party arrived and +took their places in their box. The people cheered and the +handkerchiefs were waved, for the President is popular. + +Suzee sat in the greatest glee beside me. The vast concourse of +people, the lavish colour, the loud, gay, strident music, the sea of +faces and clapping hands and waving kerchiefs pleased her childish +little soul. + +After a few moments the music changed, and to a slow, almost solemn +march, the toreadors filed slowly in to the arena and bowed before the +President's box. + +A burst of applause greeted their appearance, and Suzee watched +entranced these men parading in the ring, in their various red, blue, +and green velvet costumes fitting tightly their fine figures, with +their gorgeous cloaks of red velvet thrown over one arm and the flat +round hats of the toreadors sitting lightly above their bold handsome +faces. + +They disappeared, there was a pause in the music, the great arena +stood empty, the vast audience were silent, a few moments of waiting +expectancy, then one of the low doors opposite us in the inner circle +flew open, shewing a long black tunnel leading into darkness. From +this came confused roarings and bellowings, and then with his head +flung high and his great eyes starting with pain and rage from the +goadings he had received, a glorious black Andalusian bull charged +into the arena. The people, delighted at his size and strength and +apparent ferocity, cheered and applauded loudly while, still further +excited by the sudden glare of light and the deafening noise, the +creature galloped round the sandy ring. + +Jet-black, sleek-coated, and with a long pair of slender, tapering +horns, sharply pointed, crowning his great head, he was a magnificent +animal, far finer in make and shape than any of these brutes round him +who had come to see him die. As he galloped round the ring, I saw that +he was looking wildly, eagerly, for somewhere to escape. The animals +have no innate savagery, as man has. They do not love inflicting pain, +torture, and death upon others. That vile instinct has been given to +man alone. They kill for food. They fight for their mates. But no +animal fights or kills for the love of blood as we do. + +And now this great monarch of the hills and plains, in all the pride +and glory of his strength, had no wish to attack or kill; he bounded +round and across the sandy space hoping to find some outlet, longing +to be again upon his wild Andalusian hills he was never to see again. + +Another burst of music, a great fanfare of trumpets, and then slowly +in triumphal procession the picadors, mounted bull-fighters with +lances, entered the ring. + +Theoretically, when these men enter, the savage beast they are +supposed to be encountering immediately makes a terrible charge upon +them; but, as a matter of fact, the bull never wishes to fight or +attack any one, and does not, until his brutal captors absolutely +force him into doing so. That is why a bull-fight, as well as being +hideously degrading and cruel, is also dull and tedious. + +If one were watching the grand natural passion of an animal fighting +for his life on the prairie, against another, with an equal fortune of +war for both, there would be excitement in it. But in this case one +sees an unwilling animal tortured into a fight, which it neither seeks +nor understands, and which it has from the start no chance of winning. + +In this case, as in all I have seen, the beautiful Andalusian, having +made his gallop round the ring and finding no chance of escape, had +subsided into a quiet trot and when the picadors entered he stood +still, demurely regarding them from the opposite side of the arena. + +The sunlight fell full upon him, on his glossy sides and grand head, +from which the noble, lustrous brown eyes looked out with benign and +gentle dignity on the great multitude, the sandy space, and the +picadors who were stealing slowly up to him. + +It is a difficult matter for the picador to approach the bull, for the +horses shrink from the awful fate awaiting them, and only by plunging +great spurs into their sides can their riders get them to advance. + +Anything more unutterably cowardly and despicably mean than the +picador can hardly be imagined. Riding a poor, aged horse, generally +one that has been wounded in a previous combat, and that is +absolutely naked of all protection from the bull's horns, he is +himself cased from head to foot in metal and leather, so that by no +possibility can he be scratched. + +He comes into the ring with the deliberate intention of riding his +tottering, naked horse on to the horns of the bull, and the greater +number of these helpless creatures he can get mangled and +disembowelled under him, the greater and finer picador he is and the +more the people love him. Such is humanity! + +On this afternoon the bull eyed the horses' approach with no ill-will, +he seemed to be reflecting--"Perhaps these are friends of mine and +will show me the way out." But when at last the picador, having +spurred his flinching horse close up to the bull's side, jabbed at his +glossy neck with his lance and the pain convinced the great monarch +they were hostile, he threw up his head with a snort and in a lithe, +agile bound he passed by them and trotted quietly away. + +This enraged the people, and screams of "Coward! Coward!" went up from +all parts of the ring. + +How they can twist into any semblance of cowardice the benignity of an +animal that scorns to take any notice of what it sees is a feeble and +puny opponent is amazing, a fit illustration of the weakness of the +human intellect. + +As the bull continued his gentle trot, unmoved, the audience grew +furious, and then began that tedious and utterly sickening chase of +the unwilling bull by the faltering and unwilling horses. + +The bull, conscious of his great strength and absolutely fearless, had +all that chivalry which seems inherent in animals and which is quite +lacking in man in his attitude to them. + +As the unfortunate horses were ridden up to and across the face of the +bull, he did his best to avoid them. Over and over again the picadors +stabbed him with their lances and thrust their naked horses at his +head, but his whole attitude and manner said plainly: "Why should I +toss these poor old, trembling horses? I have no quarrel with them. I +could kill them in a minute, but I don't want to." + +The screaming fiends above him yelled and cursed and tore pieces of +wood from the seats to throw at him. Insults and invectives were +showered on the picadors, until at last one of them, stung by the +filthy abuse of the mob, drove his spurs so deep into his horse that +the animal reared a little; the picador then, with spur and knee, +almost lifted him on to the long pointed horns of the bull, who, +forced back against the hoarding, had lowered his head in anger as the +blood streamed from the lance wounds in his neck. + +Then there was the horrid, low sound of grating horn against the ribs +of the horse, the ripping of the hide; the animal was lifted into the +air a moment, then fell. There was a gush of blood on the sand, blood +and entrails; with a groan it staggered quivering to its feet, made a +step forwards, trod on its own trailing, bleeding insides, fell again, +groaning with anguish, quivering convulsively. + +The people were delighted. They shouted and screamed and stood up on +their seats and waved their kerchiefs, especially the women! + +The picador, who picked himself up unhurt--indeed, cased in armour, he +could not well be otherwise--was cheered and cheered, and bowed and +smiled and took off his cap and swept it to the ground. And the band +crashed loudly to drown the terrible groaning of the dying horse, +struggling in agony on the sand. The bull, sorry rather than otherwise +apparently, walked away to another part of the ring, tossing his head +in pain as the blood dripped from it. + +The people clapped delightedly. Suzee seeing all the women about her +doing so, put up her little hands and clapped too. + +I bent towards her and caught them and held them down in her lap. + +"Be quiet," I said; "I won't have you clap such a disgusting sight." + +She stopped at once. A Mexican woman on my other hand, looked daggers +at me for an instant, divining my words, but she was too eager to see +all the blood and the anguish in the arena, not to miss a throe of the +dying horse, to turn her eyes away for more than a moment. + +So, after a scowl at me, she directed them again, bulging with +satisfaction, on the scene before her. + +From then on, for about an hour, the same hideous thing went on; horse +after horse was brought forward, pushed on the horns of the bull, torn +and mangled beneath its cowardly rider, and then, if completely ripped +open, dragged dead or dying from the ring; if its wound was not large +enough to cause instant death, stuff or straw was thrust into it by +the attendants and the dying animal kicked, lashed, and dragged to its +feet to be thrown again on to the sharp horns amidst the shouts and +laughs of the delighted crowd. + +Once, in a general mêlée, when the bull and several picadors were in a +tangled mass at one side of the ring, I saw one of these horses, +terribly wounded, with its life pouring from it, emerge from the +conflict and stagger unnoticed to the hoarding. + +It came close to the wall of the ring and looked over; its glazed, +anguished eyes gazed from side to side as if asking: "Is there no +escape, no mercy anywhere?" + +A spectator on the audience side of the hoarding raised his hand and +struck it between the eyes. It tottered, staggered, and sank within +the ring. + +Eight horses had now been rendered useless, the arena was black and +red with blood, in spite of the assiduous sprinkling of fresh sand, +and there was a pause in the entertainment. The picadors had had their +turn, the banderilleros were ready to appear, but the people were +thoroughly enjoying themselves now and they stamped and roared +"Caballos" till they were hoarse. That horrid cry for more and more +horses to be produced that alarms the administrador, or manager, of +the bull-fight. + +In vain the attendants lashed and goaded the dying horses in the +arena. They could not get them to their feet again. There is a limit +to man's sway, the tortured life at last escapes him. The bodies were +dragged away, more sand, and then the administrador himself, pale as +ashes, stepped out before the audience howling for more blood. + +"Señors," he commenced, "it is impossible to supply more than eight +horses for one bull; there are five more bulls to be dispatched. They +are more savage than this one. I must keep horses for them. Let the +señors be reasonable and allow the show to continue." + +At this promise of five more bulls there was general applause. The +band rolled out fresh music. There was a thunder of drums and the +banderilleros came on, gorgeous in velvet, glittering in spangle and +tinsel. + +The bull is weary now and has lost much of his blood; as from the +first, he only longs to escape from this ring, and the mad monkeys who +are gibing and gibbering at him in it. They came forward with their +fresh weapons, shafts and arrows of iron decked up with coloured +ribbons, which they throw at him and which stick on his shoulders and +in his sides, drawing streams of blood wherever they strike him. + +Maddened by those, he rushes at the flaming coats the men trail before +his eyes; but the cruel little, dancing, monkey-like man with the +cloak darts away before he can be touched, and at last, after repeated +rushes and repeated failures, the grand creature stands still, wearied +and disdainful, his head erect, the blood flowing from his wounds in +which the darts move, swaying to and fro each time he stirs, causing +him an agony he cannot understand. So he faces the great crowded ring +contemptuously, and the people shout at him and call him a coward and +scream for the espada to come and dispatch him. + +The banderilleros retire: they have weakened the bull so that there is +now no danger for the puny little two-legged creature who struts in +next with a sword, and who is greeted with plaudits and triumphal +music. Flowers are thrown him, bouquets, the men call him hero, the +women throw kisses to him. + +He bows to the President, then turns towards the bull who stands +erect still, though the loss of blood must be telling upon him, stands +with that same air of deadly _ennui_, of weary scorn of all this folly +which he has possessed from the first. Dusty and blood-stained his +glossy coat, bloodshot his great lustrous eyes. As he looks round the +circle already growing dim to them, does he long for his green +Andalusian pastures, does he see again those pleasant streams by which +his herd is wandering? + +The little manikin sidles up and jabs him behind the shoulder with his +sword. The bull turns upon him, and he runs for his life. But the bull +does not deign to follow. With a great show of precaution where there +is really no danger, the little man with the sword approaches again. +Amidst cheers from the onlookers he plunges his sword between the +shoulders of the dying monarch and then rushes backwards. The great +beast sways, shivers in mortal anguish for a moment, and then without +a sound sinks, for the first time in this cruel and unequal combat, to +his knees. Sinks, full of a superb dignity to the end, and one asks +oneself--"What _can_ the scheme of creation be that gives a creature +so clean-souled, so grand, into the power of such a miserable mass of +vile lusts as man?" + +A moment more and the head crowned with its tapering crescent horns +sinks forwards. A gush of blood from the nostrils on the sand, and it +is over. The glossy form is still--at peace. + +With ridiculous manoeuvres the little man comes up again to the great +beast, obviously dead and harmless, and withdraws his sword which he +waves triumphantly before the applauding populace. + +While he capers about before his delighted admirers, the attendants +come in and draw away with some difficulty the magnificent form of the +slaughtered bull. + +The music broke into a loud march. There was an interval of relaxation +for the audience, to move, look about, chatter, and take refreshments. + +"This is the end," I said to Suzee; "let us go now." + +"Oh, but Treevor, that man said he had five more bulls, look, nobody +is going yet," she returned, having evidently followed in her own +sharp way the sense of the Spanish speech of the administrador. + +"Do you want to see any more?" I asked. "I think it is dull and +tedious, as well as horrible." + +"The killing is not nice," she said, in deference to my opinions, I +suppose; "but the music and the people are fun, I think. Do let us +stay for one more fight. You won't want to bring me again." + +"No, I certainly shan't," I answered. + +"Then do let me stay now, Treevor, just one more time." + +I shrugged my shoulders and sat back in my seat, and after a second +the little door opposite opened and another bull, this time apparently +mad with pain, dashed into the ring. + +The people applauded him and the shouts and clappings increased his +excitement. + +He bounded at full gallop across the sandy space and charged the +hoarding that hemmed him in. + +The audience were delighted, but the toreadors entered the ring and +stood together at one side, looking anxious, and some of the +attendants came up and received orders from them. + +From the first the animal was unmanageable, out of all control. The +goading and the enraging that goes on in the dens behind the arena had +been overdone apparently, for the bull, wild with rage and pain, +galloped madly round, taking no notice of the pallid group of +toreadors. + +At last one or two came forward with their cloaks of scarlet; the bull +made a dash at them, scattering them on either side, then bounded on +and with one tremendous leap cleared the hoarding that separates +spectators from the rings, and landed bellowing in the corridor that +ran round it just below our seats. It was full of onlookers drawn +nearer than usual to the hoarding by the excitement, and they +scattered and fled in all directions, while shriek upon shriek went up +from the women all round us as they saw the bull clear the hoarding +and come down amongst them. + +With one accord they stood up. Like a great wave breaking, they rushed +upwards to the highest part of the ring, shrieks and screams on every +side telling of the trampled children and injured women in the frantic +panic. + +Suzee rose with the rest, livid and trembling, and would have rushed +after that seething mass behind us, if I had not seized her arm and +forced her back to her seat. + +"Sit down, stay where you are," I said; "the bull will do you less +harm than that trampling horde." + +We were left there alone; groans and cries came from the +panic-stricken, struggling mass of people behind us; just beneath us +in the emptied corridor stood the bull, snorting with lowered head, +pawing the ground; in the arena, the administrador, green with terror +and anxiety, shouted commands to the pallid and trembling attendants. + +I sat still, holding Suzee. The bull paused for a moment in front of +us, then with his head lowered almost to the ground, made a terrific +rush forwards, shattering the woodwork of the platform at our feet to +atoms with his horns. Suzee gave a piercing shriek and fell across me, +unconscious. The animal, startled by the scream, raised its head. + +In its rolling eyes I saw nothing but the madness of pain and terror. +As it drew back for a second charge, in its mad effort to dash through +the woodwork to liberty, I slipped sideways with the dead weight of +Suzee on my arm, into the seats on one side. It was not an instant too +soon. The next, the bull rushed forwards and our seats were falling in +splinters about his head. Along, sideways, over chair after chair, I +slipped, dragging and supporting Suzee as best I could. I heard +screams of terror and suffering all round us as the panic spread +amongst the people and they forced themselves in an ever-increasing +mass upwards, fighting their way to the exits at the top of the ring. + +My mind was made up. All before me was clear and open, the seats +deserted, below me ran the corridor leading to the entrance by which +we had come in. For that I would make. + +There was some slight risk, for the bull, tired now of his futile +efforts to destroy the wooden barriers in front of him, had turned +back into the corridor and started on a mad gallop down it round the +ring. + +I must drop down into the corridor before I could arrive at the +entrance, and unless he were stopped he might meet us in the corridor +before I could reach the exit. But his arc of the circle was a long +one, mine to the exit was short, and, anyway, I preferred to chance +meeting him to trusting myself to the mercies of my own kind. + +I leapt down into the passage, and, lifting Suzee into my arms, passed +on rapidly to the wicket. + +There was no one there. I went through, out into the golden sunlight. + +Outside, the accident and the panic had not yet become known. I saw a +carriage, with its driver asleep upon the box, close to the main gate. +I went up to it, put Suzee in and spoke to the man. + +"The lady has fainted," I said; "drive us back to the Hotel Iturbide." + +The man, delighted at securing a fare so soon, seized the whip and +reins and drove away full tilt before one of the struggling wretches +in the bull-ring had succeeded in getting out. + +Suzee recovered consciousness just before we reached the hotel, but +when she had opened her eyes she closed them again instantly and +covered her face with her hands with a cry of terror. + +"Oh, Treevor, that awful bull; where is it now? It can't get at us, +can it?" + +"No, poor brute," I answered. "You are safe enough now, Suzee; you are +miles away from the bull-ring." + +She was trembling so much she could hardly walk up the stairs to our +room, and when we got there I made her go to bed while I sat by her +putting cold compresses on her head. She complained of such pain in +it, I was afraid that the fright and shock would do her serious harm. + +I sat up with her through the night, and towards morning she fell into +a tranquil sleep. + +I paced up and down the quiet room lighted only by the night light, +thinking over the horrid scene of the afternoon, and when it grew to +be day I was hungering so for a companion to speak to and to feel with +me, that I drew out my writing-case and wrote a long letter to Viola. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE WAY OF THE GODS + + +"But, Treevor, I am so very dull when you go out, and when you are +working it is as bad. I do miss my baby so to play with." + +"You did not strike me as a very devoted mother when I saw you at +Sitka," I answered. + +"Oh, Treevor, he was a very fine boy, and I took so much care of him. +Was he not a very large child?" + +"Yes, he certainly was, and with a dreadful voice and a furious +temper. It's no use worrying me, Suzee, about the matter. I dislike +children very much, and I do not wish nor intend to have any of my +own." + +Suzee began to cry in the easy way she had. She seemed able to +commence and leave off just when she chose. + +"You are a little goose," I said jestingly. "You don't know when you +are well off. For months and months you would be ill and disfigured, +unable to come about with me or be my companion, unable to sit to me +for my painting, and afterwards the child would be an unendurable tie +and burden. Besides, as I say, I have an intense dislike to children +and could never live with one anywhere near me. I am afraid, if you +want them, you must go away from me, to some one who has your views." + +Suzee came over to where I was sitting and knelt beside my chair, +clasping both hands round my arm. + +"Treevor," she said, almost in a whisper, "you are so beautiful with +your straight face, every line in it is so straight, quite straight; +and your black hair and your dark eyes and your dark eyebrows. I want +that for my baby. I want a son just like you; he must be just like +you, and then I should be so happy." + +As she spoke, the lines of a poetess flashed across me, indistinctly +remembered--"beauty that women seek after ... that they may give to +the world again." + +Was this the reason of woman's love of beauty in men? Ah, not with all +women! Viola loved beauty, as I did, as all artists do, as they love +their art, for itself alone. + +I stroked her smooth shining hair, gently, and shook my head, smiling +down upon her. + +"Do you not value my love for you?" I asked. + +"Oh yes, yes; you know I do." + +"Well, then understand this: you would utterly and entirely lose it if +you became a mother." + +Suzee shrank away from me. + +"But why, Treevor? Hop Lee was so pleased with me...." + +"Men have different tastes. And it is well they have, or the world +would be worse than it is. Some men like children and domesticity and +sick-nursing and childish companionship; I don't. I like health and +beauty, and love and intellect about me, and women who are straight +and slim and can inspire my pictures. That's why, Suzee, and I don't +see any reason why I shouldn't gratify my tastes as they do theirs. +There are plenty of men in the world who like being fathers of +families; the world can well allow an artist to give it his art +instead." + +"Oh yes, Treevor, of course; but I am so sorry. I am so dull without a +baby." + +We were sitting together in a light balcony of one of the hotels at +Tampico, and the subject of our conversation was one which had come up +many times between us lately. + +Some months had slipped by since the accident in the bull-ring. Suzee +had recovered from the shock with a few day's rest and care, and as +soon as she was better we had started on a tour through the country +places of Mexico, and as it grew colder we had worked downwards to the +gulf of Vera Cruz in the Tierra Caliente, or Hot Lands, and now were +making a stay here on the coast, caught by the beauty of palm and sea +and shore. + +Suzee, though apparently she had all that most young women covet, had +been for some time restless and dissatisfied, and the reason soon +appeared in conversations like that of to-day. + +"Come along," I said, getting up; "see what a lovely evening it is, +let's go for a walk along the seashore." + +Suzee looked round at the translucent green bell of the sky that hung +over us, disapprovingly. + +"It's always fine weather," she said, rather sulkily; "and there's +nothing to see on that old shore." + +"Nothing to see!" I exclaimed in sheer amazement. Then I stopped +short, remembering her indifference to all I valued, and added: "There +are most beautiful shells of every shape and colour, wouldn't you like +to get some of those?" + +Suzee's face brightened immediately. This idea took her fancy at once. +It appealed to her keen love of material things. Beauty in air and sky +was nothing to her; but something she could pick up and handle, become +possessed of, like the shells, deeply interested her. She rose at +once. + +"I had better take a basket, Treevor," she said, "to carry them back +in." And while she went to get it, I leant over the balcony-rail +musing on that great difference in character between woman and woman, +man and man. Humanity might almost be divided into those two great +parts--those who love and live in ideas; and those who love, and are +wholly concerned with, material things. + +She came back in a moment with a basket swinging in her hand. It had +not seemed so necessary here in Mexico that she should dress in +Western clothes, so she had gradually relapsed into her gaily coloured +silks and embroidered muslins and Zouave jackets. This style of +dressing suited the tropical climate, and the convenances of Europe +and America were too far off for anything to matter much here. It gave +her constant occupation, too, the making of her costumes; for she was +marvellously quick and dexterous with her needle, and if I gave her +the silks she fancied she made them into dainty forms and embroidered +them with the greatest skill. As she came back now with her basket the +light fell softly on her lilac silk, all worked with gold thread, and +on her pretty bare head with its block of black shining hair. + +We started for the shore, Suzee all animation now and chattering on +the possibility of sewing sea-shells into gold tissue or muslin. + +The sky all round and overhead was palest green and strangely +luminous, the sea before us stretched to the far horizon in tones of +gentlest mauve and violet, beneath our feet was the firm brown sand +for miles and miles unrolled like a glossy, sepia carpet. On one side +broke the tiny waves in undulating lines of white; on the other, the +wild sand-dunes, grown over with rough grass and waving cocoanut +palms, came down towards the sea. + +We walked on, both contented. I, in the strange colouring and the warm +salt breath in the air, that stirred the palm leaves till they tossed +joyfully in it; she, in the absorbing pursuit of the shells which lay +along the sand, positively studding it, like jewels, with colour. The +tide had recently gone down over the shore where we walked and left +them radiant, gleaming with moisture in the low light of the sun, pink +and scarlet, deepest purple and gold. She ran ahead of me, picking +them up and filling her basket rapidly. I walked on slowly, thinking, +while my eyes wandered over that shining, palpitating, gently heaving +violet sea. She had given herself to me entirely--and what beauty she +had to give! And yet she had failed to chain me to her in any way, +greatly though she pleased my senses. It is, after all, something in +the soul of a woman, in her inner self, that has the power of throwing +an anchor into our soul and holding it captive. Mere beauty throws its +anchor into the flesh, and after a time the flesh gives way. + +In a little while Suzee came running back to me; her basket was full +to overflowing: she was quite happy. + +"Take me up in your arms and kiss me," she said. "Look, Treevor, we +are all alone. What a great, great beach it is here, with not another +soul to see anywhere." + +As she said, the firm brown plain of glistening sand stretched behind +us and before us with not another footfall to disturb its silence, +the wide white sand-dunes were deserted, the palms tossed their +greeting to the sea through the glory of calm evening light. + +"Let us lie under those palms now; I am tired," she said as I kissed +her. And we went together and lay down under the palms on a ragged +tussock of grass, and the light fell and grew deeper in tone round us +and the amethystine sea, flushed with colour, swayed and heaved, +murmuring its low eternal song by our side. + +A great vulture flapped heavily by and perched on a sand-hill not far +from us, eyeing us somewhat askance, and some sea-gulls circled over +us--otherwise we were undisturbed. + +The following day we planned to come down the river Tamesi, which +flows out at Tampico. We could not go up by boat, as the river was in +flood and nothing could make headway against it, but the natives were +adepts at steering a boat down with the rapid current, and knew how to +handle it on the top of the flood. + +We took the train some distance up the line, and alighted at a place +where the river flowed by between high banks and where boats could be +had from the villagers. + +It was a perfect, cloudless day, and we reached our destination in the +sweet fresh early hours of the morning. A walk through the tiny +Mexican village brought us to the bank of the river where the Tamesi +flowed by, heavily, grandly, in all the majesty of its flood. + +The waters were brown and discoloured, but the sun glinting on its +ripples turned them into gold, and the tamarisk on the bank drooped +over it, letting its long strands float on the gliding water. + +A little way down the bank, moored to the side, rocked a boat, of +which the outline delighted me, and, to Suzee's annoyance, I stood +still and drew out my note-book to make a sketch of it. + +It appeared to be the larger half of one immense tree of which the +inside had all been hollowed out, both ends were raised and pointed +and, in the centre, four bent bamboo poles, inclined together, +supported a finely plaited wicker-work screen, which shielded a patch +about two yards square in the boat from the burning rays of the sun. + +I finished the sketch in a few minutes, and we went on towards the +boat; its owners, two Mexican Indians, were sitting on the bank +engaged in mending one of their paddles. They were quite naked except +for their loin cloths, and their bare, brown crouching figures gave +the last touch of suggested savagery to the scene. The red, earthy +banks of the river stretched before us desolate and sunburnt; the +swollen, muddy river itself rolled swiftly and heavily along, silent, +impressive; the dug-out, looking like a craft of primeval times, +rocked and swayed noiselessly on the flood; the naked savages +crouched over their broken paddle beneath the waving tamarisk; the +sunlight fell torrid, blighting in its scorching heat, over all. The +scene, with its rough, fresh, vigorous barbarism, delighted me. I +slackened my pace and stood still again before disturbing or +interrupting the men. + +"Suzee," I said suddenly, "I admire this picture before us immensely. +I should like to see it in the Academy to cheer up jaded Londoners +next season. I should be glad to stop here to-day to paint it. We can +go down the river to-morrow." + +Suzee stared at me in dismay. + +"Oh, Treevor, you don't want to stay here all day, do you? It's so +hot, and there's nothing to do, and, we shall miss the fair at Tampico +to-night. You promised we should see it" + +I sighed. It was true, I had said something about the fair, but I had +forgotten it. Suzee, however, never forgot things of this sort and she +radically objected to any change being made in a programme. She did +not adapt herself quickly and easily to changed moods or +circumstances. + +Had Viola been with me, she would have said at once: + +"_Would_ you like to stay here instead of going on? Do let's stay, +then. We can go down the river any time." And had I suggested there +would be nothing for her to do, she would have answered: + +"Oh yes, I shall enjoy sitting watching you." Her interest had always +lain in me, in her companion; to what we did she was indifferent; +provided we were together and I was pleased, she was content. It is +just this difference in women that makes it so delightful to live with +some, so impossible to live with others. There are some, very few, of +whom Viola was one, who delight in the society of the man they love, +who drink in pleasure for themselves from his enjoyment; there are +others, like Suzee, the majority, who are always at conflict with his +wishes in little things, striving after some independent aim or +project. + +And they wonder why, after a time, their companionship grows irksome +and they are deserted. They also wonder why sometimes the other woman +is adored and worshipped and grows into the inner life of a man till +he cannot exist without her. + +I felt then an extraordinary longing to be free from Suzee, to be +alone. Here was a picture, set ready to my hand. A scene we had come +upon accidentally and that, in its barbaric simplicity, was not easily +to be found again. It was strong, striking, original. I saw it before +my mind's eyes on the canvas already, with "On the Tamesi, Mexico" +written on the margin. + +How could she ask me to lose it? But I could not break my word, as she +chose to keep me to it. + +I said nothing, and, after a pause of keen disappointment, I walked +slowly on again towards the boat. + +The men were Indians, but they understood a little Spanish and I +bargained with them to take us down to Tampico where we should arrive +about seven the same evening, in time for the fruit-market and general +fair held in the Plaza. + +They were glad enough to take us as they were going down in any case +with a load of bananas and our fares would pay them well for the extra +space we took up in the boat. + +They hauled the dug-out to the bank and jumped in, clearing it of old +fruit baskets and arranging some rugs and mats under the shade of the +wicker screen. Behind that, to the stem, the boat was filled with the +rich yellow of the bananas, the ruddy pink of the plantains, and +mellow, translucent orange of the mangoes. They lay there in great +heaps, leaving only just space enough for the stem paddler to stand. + +The men motioned us to get in, which we did, and took our seats +cross-legged in the centre on the mats, beneath the awning; glad of +its shade, for the sun's rays grew fiercer every moment. + +I put my unused sketch-pad behind me, gazing back regretfully over the +yellow flood. The men pushed the boat out on to the waters and sprang +in themselves, each armed with a long paddle; one taking his stand in +front of us, one at the stern, and directed our little craft to the +centre of the huge and sullen stream. It rolled from side to side as +it shot out over the surface, but as soon as the men got their paddles +to work, evenly with long alternate strokes, the flood bore us along, +swiftly, smoothly, the dug-out floating steadily without rocking. + +The men stood, alert and watchful, on the lookout for submerged trees +and floating débris; for at the swift rate we were now floating, any +collision would have brought great danger. + +I leant back, watching the banks pass swiftly by, mile upon mile of +red earth and waving tamarisk under the scorching blue. Suzee seemed +more interested in the stalwart figure of our forward boatman and the +play of his fine muscles under the smooth brown skin of his shoulders +where the sun struck them. + +Had I loved her more I should have been angry; as it was, I was only +amused, and glad of anything that occupied her attention and relieved +me of the necessity of listening and replying to her childish chatter. + +How fast the boat sped on over the surface of the whirling stream that +rushed by those red banks, swift as the flash of life, hurrying on to +lose itself in the ocean as life hurries on to lose itself in the +infinite. + +The banks were getting flatter, here and there the stream widened, +the wild tamarisk, child of the desert, disappeared and gave way to +cultivated fields and wide tracts of the maguey plant, dear and +valuable to the Mexican as the date-palm to the East-Indian. Rough +yellow adobe huts stood here and there, their crude colouring of +unbaked mud turned into gold by that great painter, the tropical sun; +and sometimes a palm stood by a hut, cutting the fierce light blue of +the sky with its delicate, fine, curved, drooping branches; sometimes +the dark, glossy green of the organ cactus rose like jade pillars +beside it. All these sped by us quickly, though at times the scene was +so engaging I could have held it with my eyes; but ruthlessly we were +whirled forward and the scenes on the bank kept slipping behind us, +just as our dearest scenes and incidents in life keep slipping past, +swallowed up by the ever-pursuing distance. + +Our red banks had been growing flatter and flatter and now they seemed +to disappear, and the river instantly broadened itself out and spread +into a lake, as if glad of the expansion. Over each bank, far on +either side, it rolled itself out in great shining flats of water, +glittering and dazzling, impossible to look at in this hour of noon; +and as if tranquillity had come to it with its greater freedom, the +river flowed more slowly and gently. + +Our boatmen stood at ease at their paddles, pushing quietly along, +and I looked round with interest. We were in the centre of a great +lake in which here and there submerged trees and bushes made green +islands. An endless lake it seemed, a great waste of gleaming water. +We floated along gently like this for some time, and then almost +suddenly when I looked ahead, I saw the end of the lake was closing +in, there were woods and forests now upon its margin; a few more +strokes of the paddle and we were in shade, heavy, cool shade, where +the water gleamed with a bronze shimmer. Narrower still the lake end +became, the margins drew together, and with a swift push forwards, +like the bolt of a rabbit to its hole, our boat shot forwards into a +little tunnel of darkness before us over which the interlacing boughs +of the trees made a perfect arch. We were in the forest, and it was +dark and cool as it had been brilliant, dazzling with light and heat, +on the lake. A dim, green twilight reigned here, and the river went +with a swift, dark rush, past the roots of the overhanging trees. How +they stooped over the water! Swinging down, interlacing boughs from +which vine and flowering creeper trailed. The standing figure of the +boatman had to bend down and sway from side to side to avoid the +clinging wreaths or mossy boughs and be wary with his paddle to escape +the snags projecting from the banks. + +How grand the great spanning arches of the trees were, above our +heads! Finer than any cathedral roof wrought by man. How soft the +luminous green twilight seemed in the long aisle! And constantly from +bough to bough twined a great scarlet-flowered creeper, glowing redly +in all this mystery of shade. The banks were thick with vegetation, +one thing growing over another, with tropical luxuriance, until +sometimes here and there groups of plants, weary with the struggle +each to assert itself, had all fallen together over the bank and +trailed their long strands wearily in the water. + +The stream zigzagged on before us, here darkly green to blackness; +there, where the light pierced through the upper boughs, a golden +bronze; then blue and silver where it caught and eddied and played +round a fallen tree or a stump in the river bed. + +We were going fast now, and as we shot along the glimmering stream we +left the thick green part of the forest behind us. The river broadened +out, expanded widely on either side, and in a few more minutes we +seemed on a chain of infinite lakes spreading out on every side under +and through the trees, which, though they met far overhead forming a +perfect and continuous roof, were bare of leaves and flowering vines +beneath. Grey trunks and bare brown branches in bewildering numbers +now surrounded us, and the sheets of water reflected all so perfectly +down to infinite depths that one lost sense of reality. Boughs and +branches, all arching and curving and spreading above us in the +softened light, and boughs and branches and inverted trees below us, +arches and curves and twisted networks; between, those long gleaming +flats of water on which we floated silently without sense of motion, +ever onwards. + +"It is a little like the wood at Sitka in times of river flood," Suzee +said to me, as we sat together watching the mirrored stems and +branches glide by beneath our boat. + +"Yes?" I answered, smiling back upon her at the remembrance of the +wood. + +The stream was a wide flat here, and our boatmen suddenly directed the +boat to the bank and brought it to a standstill. "We want to go on +land here and buy mangoes," he explained in Spanish. + +"Very good mangoes can be got here." + +We looked round and saw, some distance from the margin, amongst the +stems of the trees standing thickly together, an adobe building, low +and flat, and some figures, not much more clothed than our boatmen, +squatting in front of it, counting mangoes from a great pile into +baskets. + +He fastened the dug-out to one of the many tree stems, drawing it +close to the bank, and then he and his companion landed, leaving us +alone in the lightly swaying boat. + +"We'll have lunch here, Suzee, don't you think?" I asked her, +beginning to unpack the small basket we had brought. "Can you make tea +for us there, do you think?" + +"Oh yes, quite easily; they have a little kitchen here." + +In the forepart of the boat the Indians had fixed a piece of tin with +a few bricks round it, forming a hearthstone and stove. On this they +cooked their own food as their surrounding pots and kettles shewed. A +few embers from their last cooking glowed still between the bricks. +Suzee leant over them, blew them into a blaze and then set our kettle +on, getting out her little cups and saucers and ranging them on the +floor of the boat. + +I sat back and watched her. The whole scene was a delightful one and +rivalled the one I had noted at starting. The gleaming water spread +itself in large flat mirrors on every side, and the trees standing in +it reflected beneath, and reaching up to the lofty roof of +overarching, interlaced boughs above us, gave the effect of a hall of +a thousand columns. The adobe house of the fruit-seller seemed +standing on a precarious island, so high had the floods risen round +it, and numerous empty baskets and crates, evidently lifted from their +moorings on the bank, drifted slowly about on the silvery tide. Our +boat itself was a lovely object with its fairy lines, its thread of +smoke going up from it, and the little Oriental figure bending over +the red embers in its prow. + +We lunched and had our tea in this cool retreat of softened light, and +knew the sun was beating with its murderous noonday glare just +without. The boatmen came back after an interval with a huge load of +mangoes which they piled into the boat, and offered us sixty for five +cents. I gave them the five cents and took two or three of the fruits +for myself and Suzee. Then the moorings were undone, the men jumped +in, and paddled us swiftly onwards. The proprietor of the adobe hut +came to the edge of his grove and saluted, as we passed by on a rapid +current; then he and hut and mangoes all glided from us, quickly as a +dream, and we were borne forward through the wonderful maze of trees +over the tranquil sheets of water. + +All through the golden Mexican afternoon we descended the river, down, +ever downwards, to the sea. Sometimes in the deep green shadows of +overhanging trees, passing through the heart of a forest; sometimes +out in the burning open beneath the clear blue of the sky, between +flat plains of open country; sometimes on the breast of wide lakes; +sometimes between high banks, where the boat went dizzily fast and the +waters passed the paddles with a sharp hiss as we rushed on; and each +of those moments was a delight to me, and even Suzee seemed affected +by the beauty and the poetry of the river, for she leant against me +silent and absorbed and her eyes grew soft and dreaming as the visions +on the golden banks swept by; fields of sugar-cane and maguey, coffee +plantations with their million scarlet berries, waving banana and +palm, masses of delicate bamboo rustling as the warm breeze stirred +them. + +As the day melted into evening, the sky flushed a deep rosy red and +seemed to hang over us like a great hollowed-out ruby glowing with +crimson fires. The waterway of the river before us turned crimson, and +all the ripples in it were edged and flecked with gold. The great +lagoons, when we passed through them now, reflected the peace of the +painted skies and the marsh lilies floating on their surface became +jewels set in gold as the water eddied round them. + +In half an hour the glory faded, leaving a transparent lilac sky over +which the darkness closed with all the swiftness of the tropics. + +As we neared the sea and the warm salt breath came up to us we saw the +light over the Market Square in Tampico and the masses of soft shadow +of the trees in the Plaza. + +Frail, wooden boat-houses, with shaky landing-stages built out over +the water, lined the banks on either side, and at one of them our +boatmen suddenly drew in, and we disembarked in the soft darkness, +suffused with the red light from the square and vibrating with the +music from a band playing there behind the trees. + +We got out and walked along the river-bank towards the seashore, where +the sea lay calm and still, its black, gently heaving surface +reflecting the light of the stars. Where the river debouched, there +was a sheltered cove of fine white sand, and here every species of +gaily painted craft was drawn up. The light from the Market Square, +ablaze with lamps, reached out to it and shewed boat after boat of +fantastic shape and colour, with striped awnings fixed on bamboo poles +over their centre, lying in the shelter of the palm-trees that fringed +the cove. We rounded the slight promontory on our left hand and came +full into the light of the animated town. + +The fair was in progress, and numbers of fruit-sellers from all the +country round, from the adobe hut and the large hacienda, or estate, +of the Mexican gentleman, alike, had brought down their load of fruit +to sell in Tampico. + +Not only was the Plaza itself filled to overflowing with fruit and +other stalls, but they reached down almost to the shore, and very rich +and Oriental the scene looked, framed in deepest shadow from the Plaza +trees on one side, and the smooth, black, starlit darkness of the sea +on the other. + +Each stall had its own light, a bowl of flaming naphtha mounted on a +bamboo pole, and the light fell over the golden fruit--mangoe, +plantain, and banana piled high upon it, and also all round the +vender's feet as he stood by his stall in town costume of one long +white muslin robe. + +There were other stalls where they sold Mexican drawn-work, carved +leather and filigree silver, others again with chairs set round where +one could have iced-fruit drinks or coffee, and the band played +sonorously and the crowd, good-natured, laughing, gaily dressed, men, +women, and children of all sizes, strolled amongst the stalls, buying, +looking, chattering, flirting, in the soft, damp heat of the night. + +Suzee was enchanted and stared about her with bold, lustrous glances, +pleased at the admiring looks of the men on her strange pretty face. +She steered me up to the silver-filigree stall and there had all the +vender's wares put out for her inspection. She was keen enough where +her own particular interests were concerned, and the sellers of +artificial jewellery tempted her with their sparkling gewgaws not at +all. Real solid worth was what she intended to obtain, and her taste +in choosing the silver was excellent. + +Would I buy her this? Would I buy her that? And I assented to +everything. I only wished I could buy myself pleasure as easily. + +She chose a necklet, a brooch, and numberless bangles for her arms, +all the smallest she could find, those generally made for children. +When these loaded her little arms and the necklet was clasped round +her throat she was happy, and the curious, interested Mexicans +gathered in a little knot round us, looked on with interest and +evident approval at the Englishman's money being spent amongst them. + +We stayed in the square buying to her heart's content till eleven, and +then, after supper at a little table beneath the Plaza trees where the +band played loudest, for Suzee loved music when it meant noise, we +went back to the hotel and to bed. + +The next day I went by train to the place where we had embarked for +our voyage down the Tamesi, fully equipped with my materials for a +sketch--and alone. + +Suzee, adhering to her idea that it would be dull and hot on the +river-bank, had preferred to stay in the hotel playing with some of +the treasures bought yesterday at the fair. + +Alone and undisturbed I sat all day sketching, till the fires were +lighted in the West and warned me I must turn homewards. I had a good +picture, and I packed up my traps with that deep sense of satisfaction +that accomplished work alone can give and walked slowly to the +station. As my thoughts slipped on to Suzee a sense of anxiety came +over me. Time was going on. The year would soon be over. What did I +intend to do? Once the year was past it would be impossible for me to +continue living with her, even for a day. And now I felt so often I +would rather be alone than with her. How would she feel over our +separation? How could I provide for her happiness when I took back my +freedom? + +Satiety was beginning to creep over the passion I had for her, and +that was still farther checked now that I knew she looked upon it more +as a means to an end--the child--rather than enjoyed it for itself. + +It worried me greatly this thought of her future and how I was going +to provide for it, and it seemed sometimes as if it might be better to +give in to her; perhaps without me she would be happy if she had a +child as she wished, provided I could make, as I could, a good +allowance to both. But then even with a child I could not imagine +Suzee would want to remain alone, and what would be the fate of a +child if other lovers came, or a husband?... + +While I did not think that Suzee loved me deeply, deep emotion not +being within her range of powers, it was difficult to see how I could +find for her an existence as pleasant as she led with me. + +All these things worried me greatly, and as Fate willed it, +needlessly. + +How often in this life a way is suddenly opened out through +circumstances where we least expect it. + +The Greeks said--"For these unknown matters a god shall find out the +way." And often indeed it happens that Fate steps in, and in some way +our wildest dreams have never pictured turns all our life to another +hue suddenly before our eyes. + +One night when I had been making a little head of Suzee in her +prettiest mood on my canvas, she came and sat on my knee and begged me +to give her, as a reward for her sitting, a narrow band of gold I +always wore on my left arm above the elbow. + +I refused, for Viola had given it to me and locked it on my arm. She +had the key and I, even had I wished, could only have had it taken off +by means of another key or melting the gold. + +At my refusal there was a storm of tears as usual, but it soon passed +over on my kissing her and promising we would go to a jeweller's on +the morrow and have one something like it put on her own arm. + +She soon fell asleep after peace was restored, but I lay awake for +hours watching the tracery of palm shadows on the wall opposite, +thrown there by the light of the square. At midnight the lamp was put +out, the room grew black, without a ray of light, and after a time I, +too, fell asleep. + +I was awakened by a curious sense of a presence in the room. My +eyelids flew open, my ears strained. The room was one solid block of +blackness, there was no ray of light anywhere. I could see and hear +nothing for a moment, though I was certain another living thing had +entered the room. Then at the same instant there was a violent +vibration of the bed beneath me and a piercing scream from Suzee, a +blind, wild cry to me for protection. + +Instinctively I threw my arms out to her. Her body was struggling, +writhing. I felt it as my hands shot out and gripped fiercely, in the +thick darkness, round two hard hairy arms, tense, rigid, as they held +her down. + +Suzee's voice broke out suddenly as my grip possibly loosened the +pressure of those other hands upon her throat, and she was speaking in +_Chinese_. A hot breath came on my eyes, some face must have been +close to mine in the blackness; under my arms, on Suzee's wildly +heaving body, I felt something moving, warm and slow and soft, and +knew that it was blood. + +"Suzee," I called to her across her clamour of terrified entreaty, +"get a light if you can." + +The hot breath came nearer. + +"Devil! Devil! This is your promise, your English word." The sound +came to me like the hiss of steam close to my ear, but I knew the +voice of Hop Lee--Hop Lee buried in Sitka, thousands of miles away. + +The arms in my clutch struggled furiously; in their spasm of muscular +effort they tore me upwards from the bed, as the lock of my fingers +would not give way. + +Suzee's voice clamoured in passionate entreaty, unintelligible to me. +Then suddenly came a terrific twist, which wrenched away one of the +arms, and a lightning stab, a deep burning in my shoulder, and +simultaneously a blaze of light. Over me hung the bent old form of Hop +Lee, his right arm, lifted up, held a long knife raised for its second +stab. His face was alight with fury. Scarlet was already running in +bright ribands over the whiteness of the bed, Suzee's blood and my +own. I threw up my left arm and caught his wrist and turned the hand +and knife upwards till it pointed to the ceiling, my own arm stretched +to the fullest length upright. Suzee gave one horrible cry of terror, +animal terror, and then there was silence beside me. + +"She has fainted, has fainted," my brain muttered in itself. A +sickening fear came into it as silence fell after that one awful cry. + +I had my revolver under my pillow. If I could reach it! I looked up to +the small red eyeballs of the Chinaman. + +They were insane, glaring, full of the wild, unreasoning lust to kill. +Some instinct moved me to speak. + +"You were dead, I heard. I never had your wife while you were alive." + +"Liar! Liar! You shall pay me in blood." + +His hand with the knife in it twisted itself round in my grip. I felt +my uplifted arm losing its force. What was draining my strength? That +stream coming softly from my shoulder. + +I lifted myself, trying to throw him backwards. My arm suddenly bent +at the elbow and his hand with the knife in it zigzagged downwards +very near to my throat. Age and feebleness had disappeared from him. +He was strong now with the strength of insanity and of that blind +leaping fury that glared out of his distorted face. There was a sudden +struggle as he dropped on my chest, then with my hand still locked on +his wrist we rolled together onto the floor. + +A moment and we were up on our feet and he had forced me backwards to +the bed. I felt my strength was going, but I still clung with a +steel-like clutch to his wrist and kept the pointed knife at bay. As +he bent me backwards on to the bed near the pillow, I took my right +hand from his arm, snatched the revolver from under the pillow, thrust +it into his face between the eyes, and fired. + +He fell forwards, a great hole torn in his forehead, from which a +river of blood poured, joining the bright ribands and with them making +a sea of crimson. + +I looked across him to where Suzee lay motionless. + +"Suzee," I said, my breath almost dying in my throat. + +She stirred slightly. I was beside her in a moment. Her eyelids opened +slowly. Then her eyes filled with terror. + +"Where is he?" she muttered. + +"Dead; he cannot hurt you any more. You are safe now." + +"No, Treevor, I am dying; it pains me so here." + +She laid one hand on her breast and I saw the blood well up between +two fingers. I tore aside the muslin veils on her bosom and found the +wound: it was not large, just one clean stab, turning purple at the +edges. + +"It is deep, Treevor; so deep. And it bleeds inside me. It is drinking +my life. I have only a few minutes to tell you. Hold up my head. I +can't breathe." + +I slipped my arm beneath her little neck. My heart seemed breaking +with distress; black tides of resentment, of rage went through me, +that she should be torn from me. + +"Listen, Treevor. It was I that lied to you. I told you he was dead, +and the child. They were not. I ran away. I left them at Sitka. I came +to 'Frisco and took refuge with that woman. Then I wrote to you." + +A sudden horror of her seemed to enfold me as I heard. + +How she had lied and deceived me! And forced me to break my word! + +"Because I wanted you so much and I knew you would never have me if +you thought he was still alive.... Your stupid promise. What are +promises when one loves? I wanted you, Treevor, so much! So much!" + +Some of the old fire flashed out of the dying eyes, a hungry, +despairing look. + +"Kiss me, Treevor. Say you forgive me." + +But I could not. For the moment I was so stunned, so overwhelmed by +this sudden revelation of her deception. + +A deathly physical faintness was creeping over me; a sensation like +the beginning of long-denied sleep which rolls at last like an +unconquerable tide, obliterating everything, through the exhausted +frame, was invading my whole body. I clasped one hand mechanically +round the bed-rail to support myself, the ground seemed to lift and +sway beneath my feet. + +I looked down on the little oval face that had lived so near to me +through the last year. How pale it was now, framed in the crimson mist +that stretched across the bed! At the slight, exquisite body so often +held in my arms. Was I to lose them now for all time? + +"I did it all for you, because I wanted you so much. Do kiss me and +say you forgive. I shall not rest through a thousand years if you will +not." + +Grey shadows were collecting in her face, some unseen hand seemed +drawing the eternal veil between us. To me, life, with all its +doings, was far away. I myself was standing in the uncertain mists of +death. Wide, limitless, and grey, the great plains of the hereafter +seemed opening before me, dim, silent, and mysterious. + +Life, with its glare of colour, its triumphant music, its crash of +sound, was far behind me, almost forgotten; like clouds of indefinable +tint, piled up on some distant horizon, rose the memories of its +loves, its woes, its crimes. + +Her weak voice calling on me to forgive seemed to have little meaning +to me now. I leant forward, clasping her dying body to me, and kissed +her lips, murmuring some words of consolation. Then the grey mists +rose up over my eyes sealing them, and I sank slowly into the perfect +darkness. + + + + +PART FIVE + +THE WHITE NIGHT + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE FLAMES OF LIFE'S FURNACE + + +A large room with open windows shewing a great square of hot blue sky +and a palm branch that swayed in front of them, bright gold in the +vivid light, was before my eyes as I lay alone, stretched out on my +bed, the mosquito-curtains draped round me, and raised on the side +next the windows. + +How many weary days and nights had gone slowly by since that night +which hung veiled in crimson mists in my memory! Horrible night of +anger, of struggle, of death, of blood! Would its remembrance always +cling to me like this? + +Hop Lee thought I had broken my promise to him. That was the poisoned +thorn that rankled and twisted and festered within me. No wonder he +had cursed me and wanted to kill me. And Suzee--how well she had +deceived me! I remembered her as she had sat trying to weep at the +supper-table in San Francisco, telling me of the last moments of Hop +Lee, her own devotion to him, and the child in their dying sufferings! +Husband and child that she had deserted so gladly! A dull anger burnt +within me at the thought of that deception, and most fiercely at the +knowledge that she had forced me to break my word. + +Yet that anger, strongly though it flamed against her, could not +wholly dry the tears that came between my lids as I thought of her. +She had loved me in her own selfish, childish way, and had risked her +own life as well as mine to come to me. + +After all, was it not I who had been in the wrong from the first? I +had known she was married. Why had I ever looked at her with that +admiration which had stirred her passion for me? Morley had warned me. +Now it had ended like this and nearly cost us all our lives. But I, +the most guilty of the three, had escaped, and they were both dead. + +I appeared to have broken my promise, and now, after already injuring +him so much--one who had never injured me--I had killed Hop Lee. I had +taken his wife, who, he had said, was more than his life. Not +satisfied with that, I had taken his life, too! How horrible it all +was! I felt suffocated beneath the weight of it. But surely, surely it +was Suzee who had thrown this burden on me? Yes, but I had begun the +evil far back in the sunny days at Sitka. + +Truly, as I had said to Morley, "One never knows in life." + +I had killed him, a poor harmless, defenceless old man who had trusted +me! + +One thing after another had gradually pushed me on to this climax, all +having their origin in those careless glances exchanged in the Sitka +tea-shop. + +They had thought I should die, too, all the people who had rushed into +the room and found us that night. Myself unconscious, and the others +dead. + +The cold voice of a doctor had been the first I had heard as sense +came back to me with the damp night air from the window blowing on my +face: + +"He's done for, I should say, you'd better take his depositions if he +can speak." + +I had opened my eyes and seen some men carrying out the body of Hop +Lee and the tiny pliable form of dear little Suzee that I should never +see or clasp again. + +The landlord had come up ashy-pale and shaking, with a note-book in +his hand, and had questioned and re-questioned me, and I had answered +until I fainted again. + +Next, after a black gap, I came to beneath the surgeon's probe which +he was thrusting into my wound, as he would a fork into cold meat. + +"He won't get through, I should think; he has too much fever," he was +saying, in the regular callous professional voice. + +"But I'm going to try the effect of this new antiseptic dressing, I +want to see if it does harm or not." + +I opened my eyes and looked up at his hard, thin-lipped face, and he +seemed somewhat disconcerted; but only jabbed his probe in a little +deeper and remarked jocularly: + +"Ah, I see, you're tougher than I thought." + +More oblivion, and when I next came to I knew that _they_ had both +been carried away from me and buried--Hop Lee, and his wife beside +him, and that that chapter in my life was, for ever and ever, closed. + +Now I was in charge of a hospital nurse. A horrible creature she was, +lean and hard-faced, with a straight slit across her face for mouth, +and little grey, cruel eyes. Like a nightmare she hung round my bed, +preventing me from getting better. + +All the fiendish tortures and cruelties that she had witnessed within +the hospital walls had, I suppose, made her the thing she was. + +Days had passed, and very slowly a little strength had crept back into +me, enough for me to see I was not getting well as quickly as my youth +and strength would let me if there were no drawback. I drew all my +forces together to try and understand this, and then I noticed that +regularly after each dose of physic I went back a little. + +More fever, more pain in my shoulder, more delusions before the brain. +Each morning when the vitality within me had struggled through the +evil effects of my medicine I was better, then came the harpy-faced +nurse to the pillow--my dose--then pain and illness again. + +The look on the face of the woman as I drank it was extraordinary. A +sly, pleased look, as one sees on the face of a schoolboy dismembering +a living fly. + +One day I took the glass as usual from her, but instead of raising it +to my lips, turned it upside down through the window. + +The woman turned red, and then livid. + +"What does that mean, sir, may I ask?" + +"Simply that I am not going to take any more medicine, thank you," I +replied quietly, "as I now wish to get well." + +"My orders from the doctor are that you shall take it," she said +grimly; "and I'll make you." + +She poured out another glass of the medicine and approached the bed, +with the intention, it seemed, of opening my mouth and pouring it +down. But I had had no weakening, sense-destroying drug that morning, +and nature was rapidly curing me. + +She forgot that. As she came up, I sprang from the bed, put my hand on +her shoulder, and forced her to the door. She shrieked and protested, +but she could not resist. I put her outside and locked the door. + +Then I sank down trembling with exhaustion, for I was very weak. But I +rejoiced to know my strength had come back even that much. I crossed +to the window after a moment and looked out. In the distance +glimmered the sea, blue and joyous and beautiful. How I longed to be +out near it, in its warm salt breeze! Beside my window grew the +companion of my weary hours, the waving palm; beneath there was a +little flagged court, shut in by small buildings belonging to the +hotel. There was a well there and a banana-tree, and a man sitting +down plucking alive a struggling fowl. I called to him in Spanish: + +"Send the administrador to me." And he looked up. + +A frightened look came into his face as he saw who it was that called +him. Then he nodded, and carrying the unhappy bird by its feet, head +downwards, disappeared into the hotel. + +People and things move slowly with the Spaniards. I waited an hour, +gazing out into the amethystine distance, wondering if Suzee's glad, +careless, irresponsible little spirit was dancing there in the +sunbeams; and then a knock came at the door. + +I walked to it and said: "Who is there?" + +I recognised the voice of the administrador in his answer, and +unlocked the door and bid him come in. + +He did so, with an alarmed aspect. + +"Have you seen the nurse?" I asked. + +"Yes," he replied; "she told me you were again delirious and had +refused to take your medicine, and that she must refuse all +responsibility for you." + +"I am not at all delirious, as you see," I answered; "I simply want to +get well, and each time I take their stuff I get worse; so I am going +to cease taking it. Now what I ask you to do is to keep that woman and +the doctor and the surgeon out of my room. All I want is to be left +alone, to be quiet. The surgeon took all the stitches out yesterday. +There is no need for _him_ to see me again, and the others I won't +have in here." + +"But the responsibility, really, Señor," the man muttered looking all +ways at once, "and the good doctor--such an amiable man. What object +could he have in not curing the Señor quickly?" + +"The object of prolonging his fees," I answered smiling, "I should +think. When I get well, his fees stop." Then it occurred to me this +man had also an object in keeping me here, since my hotel bill would +certainly stop, like the doctors' fees, when I got well; so I added: + +"What day of the month is it? The twentieth? Well, listen to this. If +I am well, perfectly well by the end of the month, I will give you a +cheque for fifty pounds in addition to my bills, just to show my +good-will." + +Now £50 is much to a Mexican, and over this man's face spread a look +as of one who has a glimpse of Paradise. He looked down immediately, +however, and said deprecatingly: + +"How can I influence the Señor's getting well? These things are as +the good God wills. I can hire a Sister to pray for the Señor. That I +can do." + +"Thank you," I said. "But if you will keep the doctor and nurse out of +my room and send me good food and water I shall get well and the fifty +pounds is yours. Do you understand, if they come into this room again +you lose it. I only wish to be alone." + +The man bowed and bowed. + +"As the Señor wishes, but the good amiable doctor, what should I say +to him?" + +"What you please, only don't let him come near me." + +"And when the Señor is well there are many little matters to settle. +The Consul and the Magistrate...." + +I stopped him. + +"Not now. I am to have ten days in peace, and alone, or you don't get +the money." + +The man stood bowing and shuffling and muttering for some minutes. +Then the thought of the £50 came before him too dazzling to resist, +and with a final: "It shall be exactly as the Señor wishes," he +withdrew. + +And so now I lay alone. Ah, what a comfort solitude is! + +Freedom and solitude! Are these not two sweet Sisters of Mercy? + +How few of all worldly ills and sorrows can they not either cure or +assuage? Or, rather, perhaps, ought one not to call them mates, from +which the child, Content, is born? + +I lay there, weak and suffering still, but a balm seemed poured all +over me, for now I was alone. + +I fell asleep after a time and did not wake till it was dark. I felt +stronger, better. Sleep had nursed me in her own way through all the +afternoon. + +A lamp had been lighted on the table beside me and only needed turning +up. There was a tray of food there and a carafe of water. I took a +little of both and felt life stirring in all my veins, now that the +paralysing grip of the deadly drugs they had been giving me was lifted +off. + +I lay still, gazing about the large, shadowy room and into the violet +dusk of the square beyond the window, and then gradually sleep came +over me again. + +In less than an hour I started up from my bed, wide-awake. I thought I +had been with Hop Lee. I looked round the room. All was just as I had +seen it last. I sank back on my pillow. "It was only a vivid dream," I +said to myself, and then fell to wondering what the dream had been. I +could not remember. It seemed some communication had been made to my +brain while I slept, that it had received very clearly, but now that I +was awake it could not retain nor understand it, but it could, and did +remember that I had dreamed of Hop Lee, and that it was a pleasant +dream. + +Yes, the man I had murdered had been with me, had spoken to me, and +the impression was that of rest, of calm, of some aching self-reproach +being appeased. + +"Just a dream, of course," I said to myself; "but how odd that I +cannot remember at all what he said." An hour perhaps passed by while +I lay quiet, strangely comforted by the dream I had forgotten; and +then I lapsed back into sleep and again Hop Lee was with me, speaking, +telling me something earnestly, exhorting me gently, and again I woke +with a feeling of gratitude, of peace; but I could recall nothing of +what had been said to me. + +The light burned steadily beside me, and I sat up and thought. + +The feeling of tranquillity that spread through me, so different from +the feverish self-reproach that had gripped me ever since I had killed +Hop Lee was so marked, so wonderful in its effect on me that I could +not feel it was the result of a dream. No, the spirit of the old man +had been there, absolving me of my broken word, absolving me of his +murder. The fact that I could not remember, could not recall or +understand when awake my dream or his words, seemed to shew that in +sleep a mysterious message from a hidden source had been conveyed to +me, which, from its nature and the nature of my ordinary material +brain, could not be received by the latter. From that hour I began to +get well rapidly. Often and often in the long nights or the lonely +quiet days, I tried to call up a dream to me, a vision of either of +them again; often I longed to speak to Suzee once more. But never +again did any shade come to my pillow. He had come that once, of that +I was convinced. To others it would always seem as if I had dreamed +that night. I knew, by some inner sense, I had been spoken to by the +soul of the old dead Chinaman, and forgiven. + +The time passed evenly in that calm solitude. Sometimes still I was +burnt with fever and racked with pain and got but poor food, and often +longed for a hand to give me water in the dark nights. And I +longed--ah, how I desired, infinitely, to send to Viola, tell her, and +ask her to come to me! + +I felt she would come then, that she would fly to me once she heard I +was ill, in actual need of her. + +But my pride refused to let me do this. + +I had begged her to come in the name of our love, appealed to her +through our passion. I would never appeal to her pity. + +Besides, I could not bear that she should see me now, wrecked in +strength, a shadow, a skeleton of myself. + +Fever had reduced me to the last thin edge of existence. As I +stretched out my arms before me, they looked like some grim ghastly +stranger's, I did not recognise them. No, she should come back to me +when I had regained the full glory of my health and strength that I +knew she delighted in. + +So I waited with all the patience I could command, and sleep and +Nature nursed me between them till I was quite well. + +Then came long-drawn-out procedure in the Mexican courts. I had +documents to write and sign, affidavits to make out, interrogations to +answer; but finally the Law was satisfied. I was acquitted. I heard +the decision with a curious feeling. How little it seemed to matter +beside the inner knowledge of my heart, that Hop Lee himself had been +with me, and knew and understood. + +One afternoon then, after the satisfying of nearly endless claims upon +me, I looked at the long, flat, rolling sea with its reefs of palms +for the last time, and took the train northwards away from Tampico. + +The year was not yet over, but I was going back to be in London, or +very near it. For would she not write first to my club? and here it +took at least three weeks for my letters sent on from the club to +reach me. + +I did not wish to live actually in town yet till Viola joined me, to +advertise our separation, unnecessarily, to our friends, but I thought +I would live practically hidden somewhere near, so that letters could +reach me from London the same day. + +Within a month I was back in London and went first of all to call for +letters. Amongst them I recognised instantly there was not one from +Viola. And, depressed and disappointed, I went down into the country, +to work. + +Work, the dear mistress of an artist's life, the one that never leaves +him but is there always waiting to receive him back to her, to console +him in her arms for all the wounds that love has made. + +Month after month went by and I worked at the painting, turning into +finished pictures the many sketches life with Suzee had given me. + +As I worked on some of these a wave of sad reflection would sweep over +me, of memory of her, but the recollection of the deceit and lies in +which her love for me had been always cloaked came with that memory +and blunted the poignant edge of it. + +Then suddenly one morning came a letter from Viola, and my heart +seemed at the sight of it to fly upwards and forwards to the future as +a swallow let out of a darkened room flies upwards and outwards with a +swift rush to the open light. + + "Bletchner's Hotel, Paris." "If you wish, you may come to me." + +That was all, but it was enough. Within a few moments I was ready for +departure. For weeks a little case had stood ready packed against the +wall of my room. All else was left standing. + +I went to town, caught the morning train to Dover, and crossed to +Calais. + +I reached Paris finally about six and drove to a hotel. I dined in my +travelling clothes in the restaurant, and then went up to my room to +dress. What keen life I felt in all my veins! How strongly all the +power of living had come back to me! Ordinarily, when we are well we +get so accustomed to our health and strength we are hardly aware of +either, but there are times when we become supremely conscious of +both, as I was now. As I walked about my small apartment I felt a +pride and joy in my strength such as a woman feels, I suppose, in her +beauty when she surveys it in the mirror--a wild elation, a sense of +triumph, as she realises in it her power. The thought of the +approaching meeting with Viola danced before my mind, filling it with +superb delight. All my veins seemed filled with fire instead of blood. +My limbs and muscles flew to do the bidding of the eager, impatient +brain. + +I drove to Bletchner's Hotel and enquired for Madame Lonsdale, and was +immediately shewn up to her suite of apartments. The salon I entered +was empty. A door faced me at the other end. It was closed. My heart +leapt up as I saw it. Was she there--just on the other side? The salon +was lighted with shaded electric lamps and furnished and hung entirely +in white, so that there was that dazzling effect of light I knew she +always loved. I walked up and down in short quick turns, longing to go +up to that tantalising door and knock, but holding myself back. + +After a moment it opened and she came through it towards me. For one +second before I rushed forward to clasp her in my arms, I stood to +gaze at her, and the sweetness, the enchanting glamour of the vision +was borne in upon me and locked itself into my memory for ever. She +was in white, some soft white tissue that fell round her closely, +edged with silver that seemed like moonlight on white clouds, and +there was a little silver on her shoulders and round the breast that +seemed like moonlight upon snow. Her fair hair shone in the blaze of +light, her face raised to mine was pale and smiling, with a wonderful +lustre in the azure eyes. + +She seemed, as ever, the dream, the vision, the ideal, the +unattainable divinity man's soul continually strives after. + +A moment more and she was in my arms. Her physical semblance was mine, +in which her spirit walked and moved, and I was the owner and +conqueror of that at least. + +"Trevor dear, be gentle!" she murmured in laughing remonstrance, but +her white arms did not unlock from my neck nor her soft lips move far +from mine. + +"How happy I am now," she said, sinking into my embrace, "and how well +you look, Trevor, how splendid! So strong and gloriously full of +life!" + +"I wonder I do," I answered, "after this cruel year you gave me. How +could you leave me as you did while I was asleep beside you, and what +was your reason? You will have to tell me now." + +"I believe you would be happier if I did not, if you just trusted me +and never asked to know," she answered, smiling back at me. "Are we +not perfectly happy now? You have me again; look at me, am I just the +same as when we parted?" + +I looked at her intently, eagerly, my eyes drinking in all the perfect +vision before me, each slim outline of the body, lying back now on the +couch where we both were sitting, all the delicacy of the transparent +skin, the smooth white forehead with its fine, straight-drawn +eyebrows, the lovely eyes searching mine. Yes, I had lost nothing of +my possession, and there seemed rather something added to that inner +light and that wonderful look of intellect and power that shone +through the face. + +"I think you are the same," I said slowly, seeking vainly to express +that indefinable extra light that seemed upon her face. + +"Only perhaps more lovely. But tell me what your reason was. I cannot +bear to think there is a dark gap between us." + +"You are so happy at this moment it seems a pity," she murmured +softly. "You will not feel so happy when you know, and it's all over +and past and forgotten. It's a thunderstorm that has rolled by and +left us again in the sunlight. We are in Paradise now, are we not?" + +I looked at her, and the triumph of delighted joy I had in her rose up +to my brain, filling it, making all else seem obscure and of no +account. Yet something in her words stirred my brain anxiously. Why +should I mind hearing what she had to say? Was it possible that she +had acted on her first letter to me, after all, and, while forcing +freedom on me, taken it also for herself? Was it possible she had lent +my possession, herself, to another? That blind, insensate jealousy of +the male in physical matters instantly flamed up through me. In that +moment of extreme passion for her, of expected triumph and delight, it +burnt at its most furious pitch. I felt I must _know_, must drag the +secret out of her, and if it was what I thought in that unreasoning +moment, I would kill us both. + +I threw myself forward on her so that she could not move. "Now tell +me," I said. "You shall tell me, you promised you would." + +Viola looked up at me with a regretful gaze but without any shrinking +from my savage look and grasp. + +"Certainly I will," she said gently; "but you will regret forcing me +to tell you. Well, I left you, Trevor, because I found I was going to +be the mother of your child." + +"Viola!" + +Had she stabbed me in the breast as I leant over her, the shock could +not have been more great. To me the words seemed to go straight to my +heart and stop it. I could not speak beyond that one word. For the +moment I was absolutely stunned, paralysed. I took my hands from her +arms which I had been holding, rose from the couch mechanically, and +walked away from her, trying to realise, to understand what she had +said and its meaning. + +This was the fact that stood out most clearly before my disordered +mental vision: knowing she was going to be in danger, to suffer, she +had fled from me to bear the burden of it alone. And, next, that I had +brought that burden and suffering on her. That spirit, so far above +earthly things, as I always thought her, I had dragged down to know +the common trials, share the common lot of earthly womanhood. The pain +of these two ideas, the agony they brought with them to me in those +moments was something almost unendurable. I felt crushed, absolutely +ground into the dust before it. I sat down by the table and put both +hands across my eyes, shutting out her exquisite vision, trying to +shut out my thoughts. I felt as a religious enthusiast might feel who +in a moment of drunken madness had outraged a sacred shrine. + +Viola was to me, had always been, far more than a wife or a mistress +is to a man; she was also the Idea to my brain, and what his Idea is +to an artist an artist alone can know. But it is something he will +live and die for, and count his heart's blood as nothing beside it. +That she was a sacred thing, to be protected and guarded from the +sordid incidents of daily life that she hated, had always been my +thought. She was an artist, and as such had Art's own penalties to +pay--the excessive nervous strain it puts upon the body, the long +weakening tension, the extreme mental and bodily fatigue that +sometimes accompanies or follows an artist's flight into the Elysian +fields, from which he brings back those deathless flowers of music, +verse, song, or colour to plant in the world. It is not fair that such +a one should have to bear the common ills of life as well as pay those +penalties. + +That had always been my view. Viola was apart from the world, a +daughter of the gods, not suited for, nor designed for the common +sufferings of the clay. Love she might know, or rather must know, for +love is always the handmaiden to Art, but motherhood, no. For those +thousands and thousands of women who inhabit this world and have no +divine gifts to bestow maternity is a pleasing and natural +occupation; for the one amongst those thousands who has heard the +Divine whisper and walked and conversed with the gods, and who can +repeat those whispers to mortals, it is a waste of divine energy--a +sacrilege. For genius is not handed down. It is given to one alone. It +is not hereditary. For genius accumulated through heredity would at +last produce a god. And that the jealous gods will not allow. +Therefore the child of a genius is rarely a genius itself. It is born +with a veil across its eyes that it may not see divinity and so return +to the common type. + +Knowing all this and feeling it keenly to my heart's core, I had given +my promise to Viola. A promise, which indeed was part of a religion to +me, and this was how I had kept it! + +The intense humiliation of it all rolled through me, stunning me like +a physical agony. + +I heard her voice speaking gently to me, but I could not understand +what she said, could not respond. + +In memory, I was listening again to her voice when she had come that +first night to the studio: + +"You will not let our love drag us down to earth, will you? Let it +only inspire us more. We will go to the Elysian fields together to +gather the amaranth flowers. You will not try to turn me into the +ordinary married woman. I could not accept those duties and that +life. I want to live in my music, in the heaven of Ideas, as I do now. +And to you I want always to be the vision, the dream, the spirit of +your thoughts: never the wife, the mother, the keeper of the +household, occupied with worldly matters." + +And I had promised with all the rapture and the fervour of one who +understood and thought her thoughts, and who had always longed to +escape from the commonplace, the trivial matters of the world, to +whom, as to her, the deathless amaranth flowers of beauty, of art, of +Idea, of inspiration were all. + +But the promise had been broken. Through me she had known pain, +suffering, danger, inability to work, anxiety, daily care for months +and months alone. The exquisite, perfect form I had counted so sacred, +had suffered the common earthly lot. And through me. My thoughts +seemed crushing me, grinding me beneath them, but at last her voice +penetrated to my brain, through its anguish of self-reproach. + +"I knew you would feel it so much, dear Trevor, that was why I kept it +secret from you and went away, but now it is all over and past, you +must not dwell on it. It is irrevocable. Don't reproach yourself about +it. Let us be glad we are in Heaven now." + +I rose and went over to her and knelt by the couch, raising one of her +hands to my lips and holding it against me. + +"Dear! Dearest one! You went away to endure all that misery alone, so +that it should not distress me? How wonderfully unselfish you have +always been to me!" + +"Oh, no," she answered quickly, a light colour rising all over her +face. + +"You must not think that. I went away for myself, too. I could not +bear that you should see me disfigured, spoiled, as you would think. I +had always been the ideal to you. I could not bear to let you see me +as an ordinary woman. I was afraid I should lose your passion for me, +which I value more than anything else in the world. I felt I could +face everything but that. Terrifying and horrible as it all was to +meet quite alone, still it was better than feeling I was losing your +love and desire." + +"But you would not have done," I said vehemently; "nothing could make +any difference to my love for you." + +"Not to your love, perhaps, but our passions are not in our own +control. They rise under certain influences, sink and decline under +others, and we can do nothing. We must look these things in the face. +See now, if I were suddenly turned to an old, old woman, withered +before your eyes, would you feel as you feel now?" + +"No," I answered slowly, "I admit old age...." + +"Or hopelessly disfigured--my face rendered hideous by burns or +loathsome with disease? You could not desire me then, I should not +expect it. Love is unchangeable, but passion is a flame that shivers +in every transient breeze. We can't help it. It _is_ so. As I look at +you now I love you for your strength and grace, above all for your +beautiful form. If you hobbled into the room, bent and lame, I should +love you still but not as I do now, quite, quite otherwise. And I was +disfigured, temporarily, I know, but it went on for months and months. +I was no longer your gay, glad spirit with the radiant wings. I was +broken, distorted, hideous." + +"Don't tell me," I muttered; "I can't bear it." She put one arm round +my neck and her soft lips on my hair. + +"It is over," she whispered. "Do not be sorry, do not reproach +yourself. It was so much better for you not to know, not to see it. It +would all have preyed upon you so from day to day. _I_ felt the long +waiting. It seemed the time would never pass, and each day and night I +felt so glad to know you were not there, to suffer with me, but away, +quite out of reach of it all." + +"But suppose you had died ... without me." + +"The chances were against that. And if I had, it would have still been +better that you should be away ... for you. I would have come to you +after death, really a spirit then, and lived ever after in your soul." + +I put my arms round her, living, warm, beautiful, in the flesh. + +"What a lonely, terrible year for you!" I said. "It never occurred to +me ... I never dreamed ... and I can't understand now...." + +"You remember the night I came back from Lawton's place to you? ... +You were mad with jealous rage, and I am so little accustomed to +resist you.... Well, it was my punishment for even thinking I could +leave you.... At least, I have always accepted it as such." + +"I can never, never forgive myself." + +"I knew you would take it like that, and now you see I can make you +soon forget it. If you had felt like this for weeks and months it +would almost have killed you." + +She played with my hair and her lips touched my eyebrows. + + +"Yes," she answered, looking back at me sadly and closely. "Are you +sorry?" + +"No, I am not sorry," I answered savagely. + +"I thought you would not be." + +"Are you?" + +She sighed. + +"I hardly know. It was so like you, Trevor, such a very, very +beautiful boy, exactly like you in miniature. I loved it, of course; I +could not help it, but it is better as it is, better that it should +die. We could not foresee how it would grow up, and so many men, the +majority, are such monsters, such cruel fiends, it is really a crime +to bring one into the world." + +I was silent, thinking over that wonderful devotion and courage she +had shewn me. Of all the solutions to the problem of her flight from +me, this had never presented itself to my mind. We are taught both by +tradition and experience how most women cling to their lover at such a +time. Though indifferent, even faithless to him in their beauty and +health, they come to him then for protection, for assistance. For +their name's sake, to save their conventional honour, they will even +accept marriage with one they no longer love, or force themselves on +one they know has no longer love for them. + +But how different this one, as always, had been! To preserve inviolate +the spirit of our love, she had gone forward to meet what must to a +sensitive nature like hers have been a time of horror and terror, +absolutely alone, unsupported except by the thought that I was away, +free, unable to share her misery! + +With gifts in both hands she had come to me and laid them all in mine. +Then, when I had broken my trust and brought distress upon her, when +she was in need and I could have been the one to give, she had fled +away from love, from consolation, from any return or reparation. +Proud, courageous, independent, untamable, as she had always been, she +was in comparison with other women as a lioness is to a gazelle. + +I folded my arms round her tighter at these thoughts, for the lioness +was mine and I owned her. + +Perhaps, after all, it was worth while to suffer that agony of +self-reproach I had just now, and was suffering still, to see put in +such shining light before me her courage and her worth. + +This was a white night, surely, as the others had been coloured, for +as white is the blending of all the colours into one, so in this night +all the emotions of those previous nights were blended. Passion, +jealousy, triumph, and an agony like death had all swept over me in +these few short hours, and now from them all, blent together and +burning as metals in a smelter, rose up the extreme white vivid flame +of love for her like the white silken tongue of fire, the last degree +of fiercest heat that the smelter can produce. + +I bent over her, looking down into her eyes, deep down into those +living depths where I seemed to see the rays of an eternal heaven, +clasping the smooth breast to me, closely, that its passionate +heart-beats might answer my own, and in our veins burnt that intense +white flame that melts into itself the glory of the immortal Spirit, +the wonder of the hereafter, and all the joys of the world. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIVE NIGHTS*** + + +******* This file should be named 13017-8.txt or 13017-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/0/1/13017 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + diff --git a/old/13017-8.zip b/old/13017-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4bf047b --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13017-8.zip diff --git a/old/13017.txt b/old/13017.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8aa88f9 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13017.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9935 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Five Nights, by Victoria Cross + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Five Nights + +Author: Victoria Cross + +Release Date: July 24, 2004 [eBook #13017] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIVE NIGHTS*** + + +E-text prepared by Rose Koven, Juliet Sutherland, Cathy Smith, and Project +Gutenberg Distributed Proofreaders + + + +FIVE NIGHTS + +A Novel + +By + +Victoria Cross + +1908 + + + + + + +By Victoria Cross + + Five Nights + Life's Shop Window + Anna Lombard + Six Women + Six Chapters of a Man's Life + The Woman Who Didn't + To-morrow? + Paula + A Girl of the Klondike + The Religion of Evelyn Hastings + Life of my Heart + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PART I + + The Gold Night + + I THE TAKU INLET + II THE TEA-SHOP + III IN THE WOOD + + + PART II + + The Violet Night + + IV AT THE STUDIO + V THE CALL OF THE CUCKOO + + + PART III + + The Black Night + + VI IN MAYFAIR + VII FREEDOM + + + PART IV + + The Crimson Night + + VIII LOSS + IX IN 'FRISCO + X IN THE SHADOW OF THE VOLCANO + XI THE WAY OF THE GODS + + + PART V + + The White Night + + XII THE FLAMES OF LIFE'S FURNACE + + + + +FIVE NIGHTS + + + "The nights have different colours. Some nights are black, the + nights of storm: some are electric blue, some are silver, the + moon-filled nights: some are red under the hot planet Mars or the + fierce harvest moon. Some are white, the white nights of the + Arctic winter: but this was a violet night, a hot, mysterious, + violet night of Midsummer." + + _LIFE'S SHOP WINDOW_. + + + + +INTRODUCTION + + +As one looks over any period of one's life, it appears behind one as +a shining maze of brilliant colour with spots in it here and there of +brighter or darker hue. Each spot represents a period of time when our +happiness has glowed brighter or waned; sometimes it is a day, more +often it is a night. Looking back now, over a stretch of my existence +I see many such spots gleaming brightly; they are nights of colour. +The history of many of these is too sacred to be written, but there +are Five Nights, which, though not the dearest to my memory, have yet +stamped themselves and their colour on it for ever. And the record of +these five nights is contained in the following pages. + +TREVOR LONSDALE. + + + + +PART ONE + +THE GOLD NIGHT + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE TAKU INLET + + +It was just striking three as I came up the companion-stairs on to the +deck of the Cottage City, into the clear topaz light of a June morning +in Alaska: light that had not failed through all the night, for in +this far northern latitude the sun only just dips beneath the horizon +at midnight for an hour, leaving all the earth and sky still bathed in +limpid yellow light, gently paling at that mystic time and glowing to +its full glory again as the sun rises above the rim. + +Our steamer had left the open sea and entered the Taku Inlet, and we +were steaming very slowly up it, surrounded on every side by great +glittering blocks of ice, flashing in the sunshine as they floated by +on the buoyant blue water. How blue it was, the colouring of sea and +sky! Both were so vividly blue, the note of each so deep, so intense, +one seemed almost intoxicated with colour. I stepped to the vessel's +side, then made my way forward and stood there; I, the lover of the +East, dazzled by the beauty of the North! The marvellous picture +before me was painted in but three colours, blue, gold, and white. + +The sides of the inlet were jagged lines of white, the sparkling +crystalline whiteness of eternal snow on sharp-pointed, almost +lance-like mountain peaks; the water a broad band of blue, the sky +above a canopy of blue, and there at the end of the inlet, closing it, +like some colossal monster crouched awaiting us, lay the Muir, the +huge glacier, a solid wedge of ice, white also, but a transparent +white full of blue shadows. + +Who shall describe the wonderful air and atmosphere of the North? Its +brilliancy, its delicacy, its radiant diamond-like clearness? And the +silence, the enchanted stillness of the North? Now as we crept slowly +onwards over the vivid water between the flashing icebergs, there was +no sound. Complete silence round us, on earth and sea and in the blue +vault above, impressive, glittering silence. None of the passengers +had broken their sleep to come up to the glory above them, and I stood +alone at the forward part of the vessel gliding on through this dream +of lustrous blue. Slowly we advanced towards the Muir; very slowly, +for these shining bergs carried death with them if they should graze +hard against the steamer's side, and, cautiously, steered with +infinite pains, the little boat crept on, zigzagging between them. A +frail little toy of man, it seemed, to venture here alone; small, +black, impertinent atom forcing its way so hardily into this +magnificence of colour, this silent splendour, this radiant stillness +of the North. Into this very fastness of the most gigantic forces of +Nature it had penetrated, and the sapphire sea supported it, the +transparent light illumined it, the lance-like mountains looked down +upon it, and the glistening bergs forbore to crush it, as if +disdaining to harm so fragile a thing. + +Very slowly we pushed up the inlet, approaching the shimmering +blue-green wall of ice that barred the upper end; seven hundred feet +down below the clear surface of the water descends this wall, while +three hundred feet of it rise above, forming a glorious shining +palisade across the entire width of the inlet. As the sun played on +the glittering facade, rays struck out from it as from a reflector, of +every shade of green and blue, the deepest hue of emerald mingling +with the lightest sapphire, iridescent, sparkling, wonderful. As we +crept still nearer, over the living blue of the water, the continual +fall of the icebergs from the front wall of the glacier became +apparent. At intervals of about five minutes, with a terrific crash +like thunder a great wedge of the glittering wall would fall forward +into the blue-green depths, and a cloud of snowy spray rise up +hundreds of feet into the air. The berg, thus detached, after a few +minutes would rise to the surface, glistening, dazzling, and begin +its joyous, buoyant voyage downwards to the sea. In all this brilliant +setting, with this glory of light around and the triumphal crash of +sound like the salute of cannon, amid this joyous movement and in this +blaze of colour, amid all that seemed to personify life, we were +watching the death of the glacier. + +The colossal Muir Glacier, the remains of a world the history of which +is lost in the dim twilight none can now penetrate, is dying slowly +through a million years. From the mountains, eternally snow-covered, +where its huge body, three hundred and fifty miles in extent, has +rested through the centuries, it creeps forward slowly towards the sea +to meet its doom. Formerly its lip touched the open ocean where now +the Taku inlet commences to run inland. But the icy waters, that yet +are so much warmer than itself, caressed it with eroding caresses and +melted it, and broke bergs from it and rushed inwards, following it +till they formed the Taku Inlet, and now the process still goes on, +the gigantic body moves forward inch by inch and the green waves break +the bergs from its face as the sun invades its structure; and so it +lies there, dying slowly through the countless years, glorious, +miraculous. + +The Captain had promised to approach the face of the glacier as near +as was reasonably safe and lie there at anchor for an hour, that the +passengers might land at the side of the inlet and those who wished +could explore the glacier. + +An hour! What was an hour? Those sixty golden minutes would be gone in +a flash. Yet it would be an hour of life, of deep emotion, face to +face with this monster, strange relic of a forgotten world, stretched +on its glorious death-bed. + +I was alone still. Not another passenger had yet come up, and I could +lean there undisturbed, trying to open my eyes still wider, to expand +my heart, to stretch my brain, that I might drink in more of the +inimitable grandeur and beauty round me. + +The nearer we drew to the glacier the closer packed became the water +with the floating bergs; they threatened the ship now on every side, +and so slowly did we move we hardly seemed advancing. The bergs +flashed and shone as they passed us, rayed through with jewel-like +colours, and on one gliding by far from the ship's side I saw two +seals at play. For many hundred miles past these seals were the only +living things I had seen. The forests on the shore, so thick in the +first part of the journey by the Alaskan coast, had long since given +way to barren rocks, snow-capped peaks, and ice-filled clefts. No life +seemed possible there, the wide distant blue above had shown no bird +nor shadow of bird passing. There was no voice of insect nor the least +of Nature's children here. Between the thunderous crash of the +ice-falls that seemed to shiver the golden air there was intense and +solemn stillness. + +But the seals played merrily on their floating berg as they passed me, +and I watched them long through field-glasses as the joyous, turbulent +blue waves carried them far out of my sight towards the open sea. + +The clanging of the breakfast bell made me leave my place and go down +for a hurried breakfast. I was chilled through, for the early morning +air is keen, the pure breath of infinite snowfields, and I took my +coffee gratefully amongst the crowd of hungry passengers. + +Rough miners some of them, going up to Sitka from the great Treadwell +mine at Juneau, traders on their way to Fort Wrangle, and some few +explorers. Amongst them were four men our boat had taken on board as +we passed the mouth of the Stickeen river. They had started from +Canada, lured by the light of the gold that lay under the snows of the +Klondike, intending to travel there overland. Losing their way, they +had wandered with their pack train for eighteen months in these vast +solitudes of ice and snow, groping blindly towards the coast. + +Food had failed them, their horses had died by the way from want or +fatigue. Faced by starvation, the men had eaten those of their pack +animals that had survived, then, finally, when hope had almost left +them, they came in sight of the sea. + +They were talking of this and their terrible conflict with snow-storm +and ice-floe as I joined them, of the plans for making money with +which they had started and their failure. + +I got away from them all and went back to my place as soon as I could, +and spent the rest of the morning as I had begun it, alone at the +forward end. + +There were very few passengers like myself. Not many people for mere +pleasure would take that hazardous voyage along the coast, for it was +new country and not a tenth of the sunken rocks and dangerous shoals +were yet on any chart. All the way up along that rocky and treacherous +shore we had seen the evidences of wreck and disaster everywhere. +Above the flats of shimmering water, where the gold or crimson of +sunset lay, rose constantly the tops of masts, shadowy and spectral, +telling of the sunken hull, the pale corpses beneath those gleaming +waves. Ship after ship went down out of those adventurous little +coasting vessels that plied up and down the coast trading with the +natives, and as we passed these half submerged masts, we often asked +ourselves--"Will the Cottage City be more lucky?" She was trading, +like all the other boats that go there, with the Alaskan natives, and +to go as far north as the Muir was no part of the official programme. + +But the fares of the few passengers who really wished to take all +risks and go there was a temptation and overcame the fear of the +dreaded Taku Inlet with its monstrous crashing bergs and its +possibility of sudden and furious storms. So the little steamer was +here, creeping up slowly through this vision of mystic blue towards +the glacier, which lay there white, vast, shadowy, mysterious, and my +heart beat quicker and quicker as we approached. + +I went off in one of the first boats and the moment it touched the +pebbly strand of the side of the inlet I jumped out and walked away, +eager to be alone to enjoy the glory of it all away from the rasping +voices, the worldly talk of my companions, the perpetual "littleness" +of ideas that humanity drags with it everywhere. + +As I turned from the boat the voices followed me clearly, distinctly, +in the exquisite rarefied air. + +Thin waves of laughter mingled with them from time to time, growing +faint behind me, then the distance closed up between us and I heard no +more. + +The steamer had landed about thirty passengers and crew, and they +seemed immediately lost in these vast expanses. When I had walked a +few minutes up the beach from the water's edge, I looked round and was +apparently alone. Some few black dots here and there disfiguring the +snowy slopes and glittering ice-covered rocks was all that remained of +them. In the midst of the vivid blue-green of the inlet behind me, a +little wedge of black, lay the steamer, the only reminder that I was +one also of these miserable black dots and in an hour I should be +collected and taken away as one of them. For this hour, however, I was +free and at one with the divine glory about me. + +It was just noon. The sky was of a pale and perfect blue, the air +still, of miraculous clearness and radiant with the pure light of the +North, unshaded, unsoftened by the smallest mist or cloud. The silence +was unbroken except for the regular thunder of the falling bergs, that +continued with absolute precision at the five-minute interval, and the +accompanying splash of the water. I walked on up the strand, having +the great glistening wall of the glacier's face somewhat on my left. +It was impossible to approach it on land, as the fervid green water +lay deep all about its base. It was only at the side of the inlet that +little beaches had been formed, and on one of these I stood. The +steamer could not get nearer the glacier for fear of the floating +bergs, and a small boat could only approach with deadliest peril at +the risk of being crushed beneath the falling ice or swamped by the +wild division and upheaval of the water that it caused. + +But here, on the beach, was a world of enchantment second only in +beauty to the glacier itself, for many of the bergs had been stranded +there by the playful tides. They stood there now towering up in a +thousand different forms, hundreds of feet above one's head, drawing +all the light of the sunbeams into their glittering recesses, turning +them there into violet, purple, and crimson hues, mauve, saffron, and +emerald, blood-red and topaz, and then throwing them out in a million +lance-like rays of colour, dazzling and blinding the vision. Like the +most wonderful rainbows turned into solid masses they stood there, or +like the jewels, rubies, sapphires, and diamonds broken from some +giant's crown and scattered recklessly along the strand. + +I went up to them and walked beneath an ice arch that glowed rose +without as the sun touched it and deepest violet within. Then on, into +a cave beyond where the last chamber was coldest white but the outer +rim seemed hung with blood-red fire and the middle wall glowed deepest +emerald. On, on from one to another, each like a perfect dream of +exquisite colour: sunrise and sunset, and all the hues of earth that +we ever see were blended together in those glorious bergs. + +What a phantasmagoria of colour, what a wonderful vision! Wrapped up +in the delight of it, I passed on through some and round others, +pursuing my way up the beach, and ascended slowly the rocks, the huge +morain at the side of the glacier, while impressively from the inlet +came unvaryingly the thunder of the five-minute guns, hastening my +steps, dogging them, as it were, with warning of the passing time. + +After a heavy climb taken too quickly, when I put my foot first on the +clear blue-green surface of the glacier, its immensity, its grandeur +came home to me. The idea of the huge size of it seems to take the +human mind in a curious grip and appal it. Three hundred and fifty +square miles of ice stretched round me, white, unbroken, except here +and there where gigantic fissures and ravines opened in its surface; +ravines where deep blue-green colour glowed in the sides, as if it +were the blue-green blood of the glacier. A tiny wind from the north, +keen as a knife blade, blew in my face as I stood there, out of the +calm blue sky, and seemed to whisper to me of the terrifying nights of +storm, of the deadly wind before which all life goes down like a +straw, that raged here in the winter. On every side, as far as the +eyes could reach, wide white plains of undulating ice and snow, broken +here and there by patches of barren rock, that seemed now by some +optical delusion, against the glaring white, to be of the brightest +mauve and violet tints. Only that; ice and snow and rock for mile upon +mile, until the tale of three hundred and fifty is told. No track or +trace of bird, no sweet companionship of little furred, four-footed +things, no blade of grass or smallest plant or flower, no sound but +the roar of the riven ice, the groans of the dying glacier. + +I walked on slowly, looking inland towards the white fields +stretching away endlessly into the distance till the blue of the sky +seems to come down and mingle with the blue shadows in the snow. +Beneath my feet glimmered sometimes the green glass-like surface of +smooth ice, at others the thin crisp covering of drifted snow crackled +at every step. Sometimes the crevasses were so narrow one could easily +walk over them, others yawned widely, many yards across, necessitating +a long detour to pass round them. + +Looking back from the side of one of them as I walked up it to find +the narrowest part, I saw the objectionable black dots had swarmed up +on to the edge of the glacier and through the thin, glittering air +their voices and laughter at intervals came faintly to me. I sprang +over the crevasse and walked on quickly to a point where the fissures +grew thick about my feet and the green-blue blood of the glacier +glowed in them on every side. + +I was looking now down the inlet and was near enough to the face of +the glacier to hear, though dulled by distance, the crash of the +falling bergs into the foaming water beneath. I could not approach +nearer for crevasses hemmed me in; the ice showed itself clear of snow +and was so slippery I could hardly stand. One false step now, one +small slip and I should disappear down one of these green rents, +swallowed up in between those gleaming crystal sides to remain one +with the glacier for all time. My idea had been to approach the face +of the glacier from the top, but I found this to be as impossible, by +reason of the crevasses, as it had been to approach it from the sea on +account of the falling bergs. + +Sacred, inaccessible, guarded above and below, the great gleaming wall +stood there through the centuries, defying the puny curiosity, the +feeble efforts of man to even gaze upon it and marvel over it, except +from a long distance. I would have given all I had to have been able +to advance to the very edge and, kneeling there, look over it down +those majestic palisades of white flushed through with green, throwing +back to the sun, their destroyer and conqueror, a thousand flashing +rays as if in defiance of the slow death being dealt out to them, like +one who dies brandishing to the last his sword in the face of his +enemy. I longed to look over, down the glimmering wall, to the +swelling rush of the green waters as they leapt up rejoicing to +receive the colossal diamond-like berg as it crashed down to them, to +see them seethe over it and fling their spray high up in the sunshine +in mocking revelry; but it was impossible. The fissures in the ice +multiplied themselves as one neared the edge and now were spread round +my feet in a perfect network, like the meshes of a snare. It was +impossible to go forward, and I was unwilling to go back. I stood +motionless on a little tongue of polished ice between two blue-green +chasms, so deep that they seemed riven down to the very heart of the +glacier; stood there, drinking in the keen gold air and the beauty of +the blue arch above, of the boundless spaces of glittering white round +me, of the narrow green inlet so far below from which echoed the +reverberating roar of the falling ice. + +I was debating with myself, should I stay here alone for a time, +letting the steamer go, after having stored some provisions for me on +the shore, and call again for me a few weeks later, in any case before +the short summer of these northern latitudes was over, and winter +closed the inlet? + +To stay here alone, the one single human being, in a thousand miles of +space, and not only the one human being, but the one _life_, with no +companionship of animal, bird, or insect, that would be an experience +of solitude indeed! + +The idea attracted me; all day and all night to hear nothing but that +thunderous roar, and see nothing but the shining sea, the gleaming +ice-fields, and the glittering bergs, to be alone with Nature, to see +her, as it were, intimately in her awful beauty, with breast and brow +unveiled--and, perhaps, have death as one's reward! + +There was fascination in the thought. + +What ideas would come to one as one watched the little steamer, the +only link that held one still bound to the world of men, weigh anchor +and steam slowly down the green inlet, departing and leaving one +behind it, as one watched it growing smaller, dwindling ever, till it +was a mere speck, and then saw it vanish, leaving the green riband of +water unbroken save for the passing bergs? How one would realise +solitude when the boat had absolutely disappeared, and how that +solitude would thrill through and through one's blood as the long +light night rolled by and dawn and day succeeded with their unvarying +march of silent glittering hours! + +And if death came on the wings of a storm such as rises suddenly in +these regions and piled high the snow over the camp, freezing the +inmate, or if it came by slow starvation, the steamer having been lost +on that dangerous rocky coast and none other having come in time, how +would death seem to one here, already so far removed from men and all +desire and lust of the world, here, where already all earthly things +had almost ceased to be and one's spirit had merged into the Infinite? + +Death would seem to one in different guise from when he comes to us in +the midst of the delights of the world, with the baubles of life +around us, or in the stress of the battle-field in the moment of +victory, surrounded by our comrades. + +Death here would come but as the crown, the climax to the solitude, +the detachment, the isolation, would seem but as the laying down the +head on the breast of Nature, becoming one with her immensity, her +grandeur. + +For some minutes I was keenly tempted to stay, the idea held my mind +and fascinated it, but with the vision of death came the recoil from +it born from the remembrance of my art. The same recoil that had saved +me many times before, for youth is usually greatly inclined to +suicide, either directly or indirectly in the dangers it courts. But +in an artist this is strangely balanced by his love for his work. When +he has ceased to wish for life or heed it for himself he still feels +instinctive revolt against extinguishing that diviner spark than life +itself, his genius, lent him from the celestial fire. + +The thought of my work dispelled the enchanted dream into which I had +fallen. Instinctively I turned and very slowly began to retrace my +steps amongst the yawning pitfalls. As I did so I heard a hoarse hoot +from the steamer lying below, to tell me it was about to leave, +another and another resounded dully from it, warning me to hasten my +return. + +I made my way back to the shore where the boat and the impatient +sailors awaited me. I took my seat in it, turning my eyes to the +glistening, glimmering white palisade rising over the sapphire sea. + +When we had reached the steamer and its head was turned round I stood +at the stern and watched that palisade for long, as it receded and +receded. At last the blue distance swallowed it up. I could see no +more than a silvery line dividing the blues of meeting sea and sky. +Then I went down to my cabin and locked the door and lay down on my +berth in the quiet, trying to live over again that one hour of close +contact with the beauty of the North. + +After dinner that night I wrote a long letter to my cousin Viola about +the beauty of the Muir. She would understand, I knew. What I thought +she would feel, for our brains were cast in the same mould. The letter +finished, it was still too early to go to bed; so I picked up a +curious book called "Life's Shop Window" which I had been reading the +previous night, and read this passage which had struck me before, over +again: + +"So, as we look into our future, we see ourselves beloved and wealthy; +victorious, famous, and free to wander through the sweetest paths of +the world, passing through a thousand scenes, sometimes loving, +sometimes warring, tasting and drinking of everything sweet and +stimulating, knowing all things, enjoying all in turn; but this is the +life of a God, not a man. And it is perhaps the God in us which so +savagely demands the life of a God." + +"But it is not granted to us." + +Yet this was the life I was trying to lead, and to some extent I +succeeded. Change, change, it is the life of life, perhaps especially +to the artist. + +And I was an artist now, thanks to the decision of the Royal Academy +last year to accept the worst picture I had submitted to them for four +years. Ever since my fingers could clasp round anything at all they +had loved to hold a brush; for years in my teens I had studied +painting under the best teachers of technique in Italy. For two or +three years I had done really good work, with the divine afflatus +thrilling through every vein. And last year I had painted rather a +commonplace picture and it had been hung on the line in the Academy, +and so my friends all said I really was an artist now, and I modestly +accepted the style and title, with outward diffidence. + +How little any of them guessed, as they congratulated me, of the wild +rapture of feeling, of intense gratitude with which I had listened to +the Divine whisper that had come to my ears as a boy of seventeen +sitting in a small bare bedroom, on the floor with the sheet of paper +before me on which I had drawn a woman's head. As I looked at it, I +knew suddenly my power, and the Voice that is above all others said +within me: "_I_ have made you an artist. None can undo or dispute MY +work." + +From that moment I cared for neither praise nor blame. The opinion of +men affected me not at all. My gift was mine, and I knew it. I held it +straight from the Divine hands. I had the Divine promise with me for +as long as I should live on this earth. + +And I was filled with a boundless delight in life and my own powers. + +When I showed my original pictures all painted under inspiration to my +father, he carefully put on his pince-nez and studied them very +closely. After that he said he must reserve his judgment. When they +went to the Academy and were promptly refused, he drew a long face and +said I had better have gone into the Indian Civil Service as he +wished. Subsequently, when I had sold them all, and not one for less +than a thousand guineas, he began to enter upon a placid state of +contentment with me which induced him to say to other captious +relations--"Let the boy alone, he will be an artist some day." At +which I used to laugh inwardly and go away to my studio to listen to +the Divine voice dictating fresh pictures to me. For five years in +Italy I had studied closely and worked unremittingly, keeping myself +for my art alone and existing only in it. My teachers had called me +industrious. Another phrase which always must make an artist laugh +when applied to his art. + +To those who know the wild pleasure, the almost mad joy of exercising +a really natural gift, it sounds as funny as to talk of a drunkard +industriously getting drunk. + +However, this by the way. The world is the world, and artists are +artists; the artist may understand the world, but the world can never +understand the artist. + +I was happy, life passed like a golden dream till I was twenty-two, +and my father was satisfied that I was an "industrious" student. + +From twenty-two till now, when I was twenty-eight, life had opened out +into fuller colour still. My art remained the life of the soul, of all +that was best in me, but the brain and the senses had come forward, +demanding their share of recognition, too, and out of the many +coloured strands of which we can weave our web of life, I had chosen +that which gleams the next brightest to art, the strand of passion, +and woven much with that. + +I had travelled, passing from country to country, city to city, +finding love and inspiration everywhere, for the world is full of both +for those who desire and look for them, and now I had come on this +coasting trip along the shores of Alaska in the same spirit, looking +for pictures in the golden atmosphere, for joy in the golden days and +nights. + +My sketch-book was full of ideas and jottings, and I looked forward +much to the landing at Sitka where I hoped to find new and good +material. The hopeless ugliness of the Alaskan natives had so far +appalled me. An artist chiefly of the face and figure, as I was, could +not hope to find a model amongst them. As our steamer had come up the +coast I had looked in vain for even a decent-sized woman or child +amongst them. They seem a race without a single beauty, possessing +neither stature, nor colour, nor length of hair, nor even plump +shapeliness. Undersized, leather-skinned, small-eyed, thin, and +wizened, they never seem to be young. They seem to start middle-aged +and go on growing older. + +No, I had really had no luck at present on my Alaskan tour, but I was +naturally sanguine and hoped still something from Sitka. + +Most capitals give you something if you visit them, and Sitka was the +capital of Alaska. + +As I lay in my berth that night, made wakeful by the bright light, I +was thinking over past incidents in my life and all the Minnies and +Marys that had been connected with them. They seemed all to have been +Mary or Minnie with Marias in Italy and France. I fell asleep at last, +hoping whatever Fate had in store for me at Sitka, it wouldn't be a +Mary or a Minnie, but some new name embodying a new idea. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE TEA-SHOP + + +When we landed at Sitka I went ashore with a fellow passenger. He was +a clever man, and had made trips up there already for the sake of +taking photographs of the people and the scenery; he knew Sitka well +and came up to me just before we arrived there with the remark: + +"If you come with me I'll take you to have tea with the prettiest girl +you've ever seen." + +This certainly seemed an invitation to accept, and I did so on the +spot. + +"She really is," he continued, observing my sceptically raised +eyebrows, "wonderfully pretty. She keeps a tea-shop and she is +Chinese." With that he bolted into his own cabin, which was next mine, +and as I heard him laughing, I concluded he was joking and thought no +more about it. However, as the ship glided up over flat sheets of +golden water to the landing-stage, he joined me again, and together we +stood looking up the principal street of Sitka which runs down to meet +the little quay. + +It was just four in the afternoon, and everything was vivid living +gold, as the floods of yellow sunshine filled all the shining air. The +green copper dome of the church alone stood out a soft spot of +delicate colour in the dazzling burnished haze. + +At the sides of the street sat and crouched the small squat figures of +the Alaskan Indians, each with a mat before it on which the owner had +set out his little store of wares--bottles of various-coloured sands, +reindeer slippers beautifully embroidered in blue beads, carved walrus +teeth. + +We stepped on the shore and the Indians looked up at us with quaint +brown questioning eyes, like their own seals. + +They did not ask you to buy, but watched you silently. + +"Come along," said my friend, "we'll go up and get tea before there's +a crowd." + +After about five minutes' walk, while I was gazing about interested in +this quaint little capital, my companion suddenly exclaimed: + +"In here," and turned through an opening at the corner of a square +enclosure on our right hand. I followed, and saw we had entered a +little square court or compound, similar to those with which the +poorer classes in any Eastern community surround their huts. + +The floor was dried and hardened mud, the walls about seven feet high, +and numerous small tables laid for tea stood round them. + +My companion did not pause here, however, but went straight through in +at the low house door, and we found ourselves in a very small, dark +passage, hung with red and with red cloths dangling from the ceiling, +that swept our heads as we came in. + +It seemed quite dark inside, coming from the fierce gold light of the +streets, but there was a dim little lamp in Eastern glass of many +colours swinging somewhere at the farther end, and we found our way +down to a low door in the side of the passage. This brought us into a +small square room which gave the impression of being sunk below the +level of the street. There were diminutive windows in the outer wall, +but they were close to the low ceiling and though the glorious light +from without tried hard to come in, it was successfully obstructed by +little rush blinds of red and green. The rushes were placed vertically +side by side and fastened together with string and painted in bright +tints. The breeze from the sea came through them and sang a low song +of its own. The walls were hung with red stuff curtains, over which +ramped wonderful Chinese dragons in green; the floor was spread with +something soft, on which the feet made no sound; in the corners of the +room stood some little tables. + +To the farthest of these, under the rush-covered windows, we made our +way and sat down on some very ordinary American chairs, a hideous note +in the quaint surrounding, introduced as a concession, no doubt, to +Western taste. + +"I rather like this, Morley," I said as I took my seat and looked +round. + +"Thought you would," he returned, and pressed his hand on a tiny +bronze figure standing on the table. At the touch of his finger the +head of the figure disappeared between its shoulders, and then sprung +up again, producing a harsh clanging sound of a gong. + +Hardly a moment later the red curtains that hung over the doorway +parted, and a figure came into the room. + +Such a sweet figure, the very spirit of poetic girlhood seemed +incarnate before us. + +In appearance she was a Chinese maiden of seventeen or eighteen years; +seventeen or eighteen according to our standard of looks, doubtless +she was in reality younger. + +The face was wonderfully beautiful, a very rounded oval and of the +most perfect creamy tint, the nose, straight and fine, was rather +long, the upper lip short, and the mouth very small, soft, and +full-lipped. The eyes inclined a little to the Chinese shape, but were +large, wide, and well-opened and brimming to the lids with +extraordinary light and fire; delicately narrow black eyebrows arched +above on the low satiny forehead, from which was brushed upwards a +mass of shining black hair piled on the top of the small head and +apparently secured there by two weighty gold pins thrust through from +side to side. + +The last touch of beauty, if any were needed, was added by the +earrings of turquoise-blue stone that swung against the ivory-tinted +softness of the full young throat. + +Those blue stones against the creamy neck! For years afterwards how I +could see them again in the darkness that lies behind closed lids! How +often I was back in the crimson darkness of the tiny chamber with the +sea song of the Alaskan waves coming through the painted rushes above +my head! + +She was very simply dressed, yet so fitly to her own beauty. + +A straight pale blue jacket covered her shoulders and opened on the +breast over a white muslin vest. Her skirts hung like the full +trousers of Persian women, and were a deep yellow in colour. Her feet +were bare, and shone white on the red floor. + +"How do you do, Suzee?" said Morley. + +"How do you do, Mister Morlee," returned the girl lightly, smiling and +showing pretty little teeth as she did so. + +"You two gentlemen want some tea? Very good. I make it." + +She glided to the curtains and disappeared as rapidly and noiselessly +as she had entered. + +I turned to Morley with enthusiasm. + +"She's lovely, perfect." + +"Isn't she just? I knew you'd say so. But she's married, old man, so +don't you think you can go playing any tricks with her." + +"Married?" I gasped incredulously, "that child? Impossible! You're +joking." + +"I'm not, 'pon my honour. She has a great roaring brute of a baby, +too." + +"How horrible!" I exclaimed. "Yes, horrible. You've spoiled it all. It +seems a sacrilege." + +"Fiddlesticks," returned my practical friend. "That's the sort that +does these things, isn't it? Would you expect her to turn into an old +maid?" + +"No, but so young!" I faltered. In reality it was a shock to me. To +have such an exquisite sight float before one for a moment, and then +to be roughly dragged down to earth from the exaltation it had caused, +hurt and bruised me. + +The next moment she was back again, bearing a tray in her hands which +she set on our table, and deftly arranged the steaming teapot and tiny +cups before us. + +As she bent near us over the little table a strange sensation of +delight came over me, a faint scent of roses reached me from the +little buds behind her ear. The blue stones in the long gold earrings +swung against her neck of cream as she set out the tea things. + +"How is your boy, Suzee?" asked Morley with a tone of mischief in his +voice. + +"He is very well, thank you, Mister Morlee." + +"I should like to see him. Will you bring him in?" he continued, +commencing to pour out the tea. + +"Yes; he is asleep now, but I will wake him up," she returned +nonchalantly, and, in spite of a protestation from me, she went out to +do so. + +After a minute we heard loud screams from across the passage and +presently Suzee reappeared dragging (I can use no other phrase) in her +arms an enormous baby. Its face was red, and it was roaring lustily. +The girl-mother did not seem disturbed in the least by its cries, but +staggered slowly over to us, clasping the child awkwardly round the +waist and holding it flat against her own body. + +It seemed very large, out of all proportion to the small and +exquisitely dainty mother. She was short and small, and the child +really, as I looked at it, seemed to be quite half the length of her +own body. + +"What a big boy he is," remarked Morley. + +"Yes, isn't he?" said the mother proudly. + +The baby roared its loudest, tears streamed down its scarlet face, and +it dug its clenched knuckles furiously into its eyes. + +"Surely it's in pain," I suggested. + +"Oh, he always cries when he is woken up," returned the mother +tranquilly. She did not seem to take the least notice of the child's +bellowing. She might have been deaf for all the effect it had upon +her. She stood there placidly holding it, though it seemed very heavy +for her, while the child screamed itself purple. She began a +conversation with Morley just precisely as if the child were +non-existent. + +I never saw such a picture, and it struck me suddenly I should like to +paint it, just as it was there, and call the thing "Maternity." + +But no. What would be the good? No one, certainly not the British +public, would ever believe its truth. + +They would think it a joke, and a grotesque one at that. "Beauty and +the Beast" would do for a name, I mused, or "Fact and Fancy." + +Nothing could be more delicately soul-absorbingly beautiful than the +mother; nothing so brutally hideous as the child. + +Suzee had sat down on the floor now, and the baby, still roaring, had +rolled on to its face on the ground beside her. Still she took not the +smallest notice of it; she laid one shapely hand on the small of its +back, as if to make sure it was there, and continued her conversation +tranquilly with Morley. How she could hear what he said I could not +tell. I could hear nothing but the appalling row the child made. + +"Do take it away," I said after a few moments more, in an interval of +yells, during which the baby rolled, apparently in the last stages of +suffocation, on the floor. "I can't stand that noise." + +"Ah!" said Suzee meditatively, lifting her glorious almond eyes to +mine, "you do not like my boy-baby?" + +"I do not like the noise he makes," I said evasively, "and I don't +think he can be well, either." + +"Oh yes, he is quite well," she returned composedly; "but I will take +him away." + +So saying, she began to haul at the loose things about the child's +waist, as a tired gardener hauls at a sack of potatoes prior to +lifting it up. + +I thought really she would get the child into her arms head downwards, +so carelessly did she seem to manage it, and as she rose and carried +it to the door it seemed as if the awkward weight of it must strain +her own slight body. + +When the curtain closed behind her and the screams got faint in the +distance as the unhappy child was hauled to a back room, I drew a +breath of relief and began to drink my tea, which really hitherto I +had been too nervous to do. Morley chuckled and remarked: + +"Good for you to be disillusioned." + +"I'm not in the least, with _her_. She is a divine piece of physical +beauty. I wish I could get her on my canvas." + +"You won't be able to; that old curmudgeon of a husband of hers will +see to that." + +"I should think he has the devil of a temper, judging by his +offspring," I answered. "She looks sweet enough." + +Morley nodded, and we finished our tea in silence. Suzee came back +presently with cigarettes for us and sat down on the floor herself, +rolling one up between supple fingers. She had an air of extraordinary +unruffled placidity. The dragging about of the child had not disturbed +her dress nor heated her face. In cool, tranquil, placid beauty she +sat and rolled cigarettes while the child's cries dimly echoed in the +distance. + +"Where's the boss, Suzee?" questioned Morley presently. + +"He has gone down to Fort Wrangle for two days," she returned, and my +spirits leapt up at her words. Her husband away for two days! Perhaps +there was a chance for a picture.... + +My eyes swept over her seated on the floor in front of us. What +exquisite supple lines! What sweet little dainty curves showed beneath +the blue silk jacket and sleeve! What a glory of light and passionate +expression in the liquid dark eyes when she raised them to us! + +After a few minutes Morley got up, and I saw him laying down on the +table the money for our tea. I added my share, and Morley remarked, + +"We'd better go and walk about before dinner, hadn't we? You'd like a +look round?" + +I was gazing at Suzee. + +"Do you have any time to yourself?" I asked her. "Later in the evening +perhaps when you could come for a walk with me." + +Suzee looked up. There was surprise in those wonderful eyes, but I +thought I saw pleasure too. + +"At six," she said. "I close the restaurant for a short time, but I +don't walk, I smoke and go to sleep. But I will come with you if it is +not too far," she added as an after-thought. + +Morley gave a whistle, indicative of surprise and disapproval, but I +answered composedly. + +"Very well, I shall come here at six; so don't be asleep and fail to +let me in!" + +Suzee laughed and shook her head, and we picked up our hats and went +out of the little room into the passage. In the outer court, as we +passed through, we saw most of the tables occupied, and an elderly +woman serving. + +"We had the best of it," I remarked. + +"Yes, rather. But you are going ahead with that girl. Do be careful or +you'll have the old terror of a husband down on you." + +"You introduced me," I returned laughing. "You have all the +responsibility." + +"You know dinner's at six on this unearthly boat. Aren't you going to +get any dinner to-night?" + +"I'm not very particular about it. I shall pick up something. I +thought six when all the men would be back on board would be her free +time." + +"But what are you going to do with her?" + +"Get her to pose for me, if she will." + +"Anything else?" + +"One never knows in life," I answered smiling. + +Morley regarded me thoughtfully. + +"You artists do manage to have a good time." + +"You could have just the same if you chose," I said. + +"No, I don't think I could somehow," he answered slowly. "I am not so +devilishly good-looking as you are, for one thing." + +"Oh, I don't know," I replied; "and does that make much difference +with women, do you think? Isn't it rather a passionate responsiveness, +a go-aheadness, that they like?" + +"Yes, I think it is, but then that's it, you've got that. I don't +think I have. I don't seem to want the things, to see anything in +them, as you do." + +I laughed outright. We were walking slowly down one of the gold, +light-filled streets towards the church now, and everything about us +seemed vibrating in the dazzling heat. + +"If you don't want them I should think it's all right." I said. + +"No, it isn't," returned my companion gravely. "You want a thing very +much and you get it, and have no end of fun. I don't want it and don't +get it, and don't have the fun. So it makes life very dull." + +"Well, I _am_ very jolly," I admitted contentedly. "I think really, +artists--people with the artist's brain--do enjoy everything +tremendously. They have such a much wider field of desires, as you +say; and fewer limitations. They 'weave the web Desire,' as Swinburne +says, 'to snare the bird Delight.'" + +"They get into a mess sometimes," said Morley sulkily; "as you will +with that girl if you don't look out. Here we are at the church. +There's a very fine picture inside; you'd like to see it, I expect." + +We turned into the church and rested on the chairs for a few minutes, +enjoying the cool dark interior. + +At six o'clock exactly I was in the little mud-yard again, before the +tea-shop; having sent Morley off to his dinner on board. I felt +elated: all my pulses were beating merrily. I was keenly alive. Morley +was right in what he said. An artist is Nature's pet, and she has +mixed all his blood with joy. Natural, instinctive joy, swamped +occasionally by melancholy, but always there surging up anew. Joy in +himself--joy in his powers--joy in life. + +I knocked as arranged, and Suzee herself let me in. She had been +burning spice, apparently, before one of the idols that stood in each +corner of the tea-shop; for the whole place smelt of it. + +"What have you been doing?" I said. "Holding service here?" + +"Only burning spice-spills to chase away the evil spirits," replied +Suzee. + +"Are there any here?" I inquired. + +"They always come in with the white foreign devils," she returned with +engaging frankness. + +I laughed. + +"Well, Suzee, you are unkind," I expostulated. "Is that how you think +of me?" + +She looked up with a calm smile. + +"The devil is always welcomed by a woman," she answered sweetly--her +eyes were black lakes with fire moving in their depths--"that is one +of our proverbs. It is quite true." + +The lips curled and the creamy satin of the cheeks dimpled and the +blue earrings shook against her neck. + +"What lovely earrings," I said, smiling down upon her, and put up my +hand gently to touch one. She did not draw back nor seem to resent my +action. + +"You think them pretty? I have others upstairs. Will you come up and +see my jewellery?" + +I assented with the greatest willingness, and we went on down the +passage and then up the narrow, steep flight of stairs at the end. + +"Don't wake up your child," I said in sudden horror, as we reached the +small square landing above of slender rickety uncovered boards. + +"Oh, he never wakes till one pulls him up," she answered tranquilly, +and led the way into a little chamber. Did she sleep here? I wondered. +There was no bed, but a loose heap of red rugs in one corner. The +windows were mere narrow horizontal slits close to the ceiling. In the +centre, blocking up all the space, stood a high narrow chest. It +looked very old, of blackened wood and antique shape. I had never seen +such a thing. On the top of this, which nearly came to her chin, she +eagerly spread out heaps of little paper parcels she took from one of +the drawers. + +"Have you any earrings just like those you are wearing?" I asked her. +If she had, I would buy them if I could for my cousin Viola, I +thought. Viola was excessively fair, and those blue stones would be +enchanting against her blonde hair. + +"You want to buy them?" she said quickly. "I have a pair here just +like, only green. Buy those." + +"No," I said. "It is the colour I like. Do you want to sell these blue +ones you are wearing?" + +"No," she said quickly; "not these," and ran to a small mirror on the +wall and looked in hastily, fearfully, as if she thought that by +wishing for them I could charm them away from her out of her very +ears. + +That she appreciated so well the effect of the colour harmony between +the blue stones and her own cream-hued skin, and the value of it in +setting off her beauty, pleased me. It seemed to augur well for her +artistic sense. + +"May I sit down here?" I asked her, going to the pile of scarlet rugs +and cushions in the corner. + +"Oh yes, Meester Treevor, sit down," and she came hastily forward to +rearrange them for me with Oriental politeness. I sat down, drawing up +my legs as I best could, and pointed to a place beside me. + +"Come and sit down, Suzee," I said; "I have something to show you +now." + +She came and sat beside me, but not very close, with her knees raised +and her smooth lissom little hands clasped round them. Her almond eyes +grew almost round with curiosity. I had brought with me a small +portfolio of some of my sketches with the object of introducing the +subject of her posing for me. I opened it and drew out the topmost +sketch. It was the figure of a young Italian girl lying on a green +bank beneath some vines. She was not wholly undraped, but most of her +attire was on the bank beside her, and the rest was of a transparent +gauzy nature suited to the heat suggested in the sunlit picture. + +The moment Suzee's eyes fell upon it she gave a shriek of dismay and +covered her face with her hands. Over any portion I could still see +of it spread the Eastern's equivalent of a blush: a sort of dull heavy +red that seems to thicken the tissues. + +"What is the matter?" I asked, surveying her in surprise. There was +nothing in the picture which would cause the least embarrassment to +any English girl. + +"Oh, Treevor, it is dreadful to look at things like that," she +exclaimed, moving her fingers before her face and looking at me with +one eye through them. Then she made some rapid passes over her head, +as if to ward off the evil spirits I had conjured up. + +I laughed. + +"You may think so, Suzee," I said; "but in our country, and many +others, these 'things,' as you call them, are not only very much +looked at, but also admired, and bought and sold for great sums. What +do you see so very bad in it?" + +Suzee ventured to peer through her fingers with both eyes at the +fearful object. + +"Dreadful!" she exclaimed again, quickly shutting her fingers. "It is +a very bad woman, is it not?" + +"No," I said, somewhat nettled; "certainly not. This was quite a +respectable girl. I have quantities of these portraits and sketches. +Look here," and I opened the portfolio and spread out several pictures +on the rug. + +Suzee drew herself together, tightly pursed up her and looked down at +them with alarm,--as if I had let loose a number of snakes. + +"They are very, very wicked things," she said, primly as a dissenting +minister's wife; and lowered her eyelids till the lashes lay like +black silk on the cheeks. + +I gathered the offending sketches together and pushed them back under +cover. + +"I wanted you to pose for me," I said, "that I might have your +picture, too; but I expect you won't do so for me?" + +"I! I!" said Suzee, with virtuous indignation, "be put on paper like +that? I would die first." Her face had thickened all over as the blood +went into it. Her eyes looked stormy, alluring. + +I leant towards her suddenly as we sat side by side, put my arms round +her waist, drew her to me, and pressed my lips on the ridiculous +little screwed-up mouth, with a sudden access of passion that left her +breathless. + +"You are a horrid little humbug, and goose, and prude," I said, +laughing, as I released her. "What do you think of letting me kiss you +like that, then? Is that wrong?" + +Suzee sighed heavily, swaying her pliable body only a very little way +from me. + +"It may be--a little" she admitted; "but it's not like the pictures." + +"Oh! It's not so bad--not so wicked?" I asked mockingly. + +"Oh no, not nearly," she returned decisively. + +"Well," I answered, "many people would think it much worse. Those +girls who have let me draw them would not let me kiss them--some of +them," I added. "So, you see, it's a matter of opinion and idea. Now, +will you say why the picture is so much worse than a kiss?" + +"A kiss," murmured Suzee, "is just between two people. It is done, and +no one knows. It is gone." She spread out her hands and waved them in +the air with an expressive gesture. "Those things remain a monument of +shame for ever and ever." + +I laughed. I was beginning to see there was not much chance of a +picture, but other prospects seemed fair. In life one must always take +exactly what it offers, and neither refuse its goods nor ask for more, +either in addition or exchange. Sitka would give me something, but +perhaps not a picture as I had hoped. + +I looked at her in silence for some seconds, musing on her curious +beauty. + +"I shall call you 'Sitkar-i-buccheesh,'" I said after a minute. + +Suzee looked frightened and made a rapid pass over her head. + +"What is that?" she asked. "It sounds a devil's name." + +"It only means the gift of Sitka," I answered. "This city has given +you to me, has it not? or it will," I added in a lower tone. + +I put my arm round her again, and she leant towards me as a flower +swayed by the breeze, her head drooped and rested against my shoulder. + +"If it were the name of a devil," I said laughing, "it would suit you. +I believe you are an awful little devil." + +"All women are devils," returned Suzee placidly. + +I did not answer, but Viola's face swam suddenly before my vision--a +face all white and gold and rose and with eyes of celestial blue. + +"What would your husband say to all this?" I asked jestingly. + +"He will never know. I tell him quite different. He believes +everything I say." + +Involuntarily I felt a little chill of disgust pass through me. Deceit +of any kind specially repels me, and deceit towards some one trusting, +confident, is the worst of all. + +Perhaps she read my thoughts instinctively, for she said next, in a +pleading note, to enlist my sympathies: + +"He is very, very cruel, he beats me all the time." + +I looked down at her as she lay in the cradle of my arm, a little +sceptical. + +From what I knew of the Chinese character it did not seem at all +likely that Hop Lee did beat his wife; moreover, the delicate, +fragile, untouched beauty of the girl did not allow one to imagine she +had suffered, or could suffer much violence. + +Again she seemed to feel my doubt of her, for she pushed up suddenly +her sleeve with some trouble from one velvet-skinned arm and pushed it +up before my eyes. There was a deep dull crimson mark upon it the size +of a half-crown. + +"Unbeliever! Look at this bruise." + +I looked at it, then at her steadily. + +"Suzee, did your husband make that bruise?" + +"Yes. He pinched me so hard in a rage with me," she said a little +sulkily. + +"Give me your arm," I said. + +She held it out reluctantly. I looked at the bruise, then I rolled the +sleeve back a little farther, and in it found a heavy gold bangle with +a boss on one side corresponding with the size of the mark on the +flesh. + +"I think it is the gold bracelet your kind old husband gave you that +you have pressed into the flesh," I said, "that has marked it. That is +about what his cruelty to you amounts to." I dropped her arm +contemptuously, and rose suddenly. + +She had succeeded in dispelling for the moment the charm of her +beauty. Her prudery, her deceit, her lies made up to me a peculiarly +obnoxious mixture. + +She sprang up, too, as I rose and threw herself on her knees, +clasping her arms round mine so that I could not move. + +"Oh Treevor, I do love you so much. You are my real master, not he. A +woman loves a man who conquers her, but not by buying her. But because +he is better and stronger than she. Because he has great muscles, as +you have, and could kill her, and because she can't deceive him, +because he sees all her lies, as you do. Yes, Treevor, I love you now +very much indeed. Come here again, kiss me again." + +But somehow her pleading did not move me. The moment when I had been +drawn to her had gone by, swallowed up in a feeling of disgust. + +I stooped down and unlocked her hands and put her back among her +cushions. + +"Good-bye, Suzee, for to-day," I said. "To-morrow I will come and take +you for a walk. You must let me go now. I do not want to stay any +longer." + +She looked at me in silence, but did not offer to move from where I +had put her. + +I gathered up my portfolio and left the room, went down the stairs and +through the passage and courtyard to the sun-filled street. + +I went on slowly, and after a time found myself close to the church +again. I went in, for the interior interested me, and found service +was being held. A Russian priest, wholly in white clothing, stood +before the altar, the cross light from the aisle windows falling on +the long twist of fair hair that lay upon his shoulders. The whole air +was full of incense that rose in white clouds to the domed roof. I sat +down near the door and listened while the priest intoned a Latin hymn. +The figure of the young priest at the altar attracted me. I thought I +should like a sketch of it; but I hesitated to take one of him in the +church, even surreptitiously, so I fixed the picture of him as he +stood there on my eyes as far as I could, and then, in a convenient +pause of the service, quietly slipped outside. + +Near the church was a great outcrop of rock surmounted by a +weather-beaten tree. In the shade thrown by these I got out a sheet of +loose paper and made a sketch of the fair, long-haired priest, with +the quaint frame building of the church, its green copper dome and +bell tower and double gold crosses behind him. + +After I had been there some time I was suddenly surprised by Morley. + +"Hullo!" he exclaimed. "You here? Why, I thought you would be in the +arms of the fair Suzee by this time." + +"So I might have been," I answered, looking up from the sketch, "but I +got put off somehow, so I left her and went to church instead!" + +Morley burst out laughing. + +"You _are_ the funniest fellow," he exclaimed, taking his seat beside +me on the ground and clasping his hands round his knees. "So Suzee has +offended you, has she? Do you know, I think that's where we ordinary +people get ahead of fellows like you. You are too sensitive. We're not +so particular. When I'm stuck on Mary Ann it doesn't matter to me what +she says or does. It doesn't interfere with my happiness." + +I went on painting in silence. + +"Funny those chaps look with their long hair, don't they?" he remarked +after a moment, as I painted the light on the priest's long curl. + +"Very picturesque, don't you think?" I said. + +"No, I don't," returned the Briton stoutly. "I think it's beastly." + +I laughed this time, and having completed the portrait, slipped it +into my portfolio and prepared to put away my paints. + +"Don't you want any dinner?" asked Morley. "You must be hungry." + +"Well, I hadn't thought of it," I answered. "But, now you mention it, +perhaps I am. Do you know of any place where one can get anything?" + +"There's one place at the end of the town where you can have soup and +bread," replied Morley, and we started off to find it. + +Later on, towards ten o'clock, when we were leaving the little, frame, +sailors' restaurant, I looked up to the western sky and saw that +strange colour in it of the Alaskan sunset that I have never found in +any other sky, a bright magenta, or deep heather pink, a crude colour +rather like an aniline dye, but brilliant and arresting in the clean, +clear gold of the heavens. + +Great ribs and bars and long flat lines of it lay all across the West. +No other cloud, no other colour appeared anywhere in the sky. It was +painted in those two tints alone; the brightest magenta conceivable +and living gold. + +Walking back slowly to the ship, I gazed at it with interest. No other +sky that I could recall ever shows this tone of colour. Pink, scarlet, +rose, and all the shades of blood or flame-colour are familiar in +every sunset, but this curious tint seemed to belong to Alaska alone. + +I watched it glow and deepen, then fade, and softly disappear as the +sun dipped below the horizon. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +IN THE WOOD + + +The next evening, after dinner, I left the ship and made my way to +Suzee's place to take her for the promised walk. + +It was just seven when I stepped ashore, and light of the purest, most +exquisite gold lay over everything. The air had that special quality +of Alaska which I have never met anywhere else, an extreme humidity; +it hung upon the cheek as a mist hangs, only it was clear as crystal, +brilliant as a yellow diamond. + +There was no wind, not a breath ruffled the stillness nor stirred the +motionless blue water. + +The exquisite chain of islands off the mainland was mirrored in the +still, shining depths, and lifted their delicate outlines clothed with +fir and larch, soft as half-forgotten dreams, against the transparent +blue of the sky. Sitka was placid and restful, the streets quiet and +empty as I walked along in the sunny silence. + +Suzee was at the door waiting for me. She had dressed herself +differently, entirely in yellow. The yellow silk of the little square +jacket contrasted well with her midnight hair, and the only dash of +other colour in the picture she presented was the blue stone in her +earrings. + +"Good evening, Treevor," she said, smiling up at me. And I bent down +and pressed my lips to those little, soft, curved ones she put up for +me. + +We started out at once. Suzee told me we were going for a long way to +see the wood, and had the important air of a person going on a lengthy +expedition. She had brought a Japanese sunshade with her which she put +up, and certainly the hot light falling through the rice-paper had a +wonderfully beautiful effect on her creamy skin and soft yellow silk +clothing. She walked easily, only with rather short steps. As she was +of the lower class, there had been no question of the "golden lilies" +or distortion of the feet for her, and they were small and prettily +shaped, bare, save for a sort of sandal, or as the Indians call them, +"guaraches," bound under the sole. + +We passed up the main street and soon after turned into a narrow +winding road that leads along the coast, Sitka being on a promontory, +with a beautiful azure bay running inland behind it. + +Our path ran sometimes inland, through portions of wood, part of that +great impenetrable primeval forest that at one time completely covered +the whole of Sitka, sometimes quite on the edge of the water. Here +there were rocks and boulders, and little coves of white sand and +stretches of miniature beaches, with the lip of the bay resting on +them. + +Infinitesimal waves broke on the sunny white sand with a low musical +tinkle, across the bay one could see the delicate chain of islands +rising with their feathery trees into the blue, warding off the +breakers and the storms of the open sea beyond. In here, the peaceful +water murmured to itself and repeated tales of the beginning of the +world, of the first gold dawn that broke upon the earth, and of later +days, when the sombre black forests came to the water's edge and none +knew them but the great black bear, and when the seals played +joyously, undisturbed, in the fog-banks off the islands. I was in the +mood to appreciate deeply the beauty of the scene, and all the objects +round seemed to speak to me of their inner meaning, but my companion +was not at all moved by, nor interested in her surroundings. She +helped to make the picture more strange and lovely as she sat by me on +a rock, with her shining clothes and brilliant face under the gay +sunshade, but mentally she jarred on me by her complete indifference +to any influence of the scene. I almost wished I were alone here, to +sit upon this tremendous shore and dream. + +"You are dull, Treevor," she exclaimed pettishly. "You really are." + +I had kissed her twice in the last ten minutes, but she hated my eyes +to wander for a moment from her face to the sea. She hated the least +reference apparently to the landscape. As long as I was talking to +her and about her, admiring her dress or her hair, she was satisfied. + +"Come along," she said impatiently; "let us go on to the wood, leave +off looking at that stupid sea." + +I rose reluctantly and we followed the road which turned inland again. +The wood was a world of grey shadows. As we entered by a narrow trail +leading from the road, the golden day outside was soon closed from us +by the thick veils of hanging creeper and parasitical plants of all +sorts that entwined round the gnarled and aged trees, and crossing and +re-crossing from one to the other, netted them together. + +Over the creepers again had grown grey-green lichens and long, shaggy +moss, so that strands and fringes of it fell on every side, filling +the interstices of the gigantic web that stretched from tree to tree, +excluding the light of the sunlit sky. + +Beneath, the lower branches of the trees were sad and sodden, +overgrown with lichen, clogged with hanging wreaths of moss. A river +ran through the wood and at times, swelled by the melting snows, +burst, evidently, in roaring flood over its banks. + +Everywhere there were traces of recent floods, roots washed bare and +places where the swirling waters had heaped up their debris of sticks +and mud-stained leaves. All along the damp ground the lowest branches +of the trees, weighted with tangled moss, trailed, broken and bruised +by the fierce rush of the current. The trees themselves seemed +centuries old, bent and gnarled and twisted into grotesque and ghostly +forms. In the dim twilight reigning here one could fancy one stood in +some hideous torture-chamber, surrounded by writhing and distorted +figures. There an elbow, there a withered arm, a fist clenched in +agony, seemed protruding from the sombre, sad-clothed trees, so +weirdly knotted and twisted were the old cinder-hued boughs. + +As we neared the river we could hear it rushing by long before we +could see it, so thick was the undergrowth that hung low over it. + +It seemed as if we might be approaching the black Styx through this +melancholy wood where all seemed weeping in torn veils and +ash-coloured garments. + +No touch of depression affected my companion; she seemed as insensible +to the grey solemnity, the dim mystery of the wood, as she had been to +the vivid glory of the sea. She slipped a little velvet hand into +mine, and when we drew near to the hidden Styx, murmured softly: + +"We will find a dry place, Treevor, on the other side, and sit down +among the trees. Then you must take me in your arms and I will be your +own Suzee. I do not want my old husband any more." + +I stopped and looked down upon her. Not even the sad light could dim +the soft brilliance of her face. It seemed to bloom out of the ashy +shadows like an exquisite flower. Her eyes were wells of fire beneath +their velvet blackness. + +"Do you love me very much?" I asked. + +"Oh, yes, so much," she answered with passionate emphasis. "You are so +beautiful. Never have I seen any one so beautiful, and so tall and so +strong. Oh, it is _pain_ to me to love you so much." + +And indeed she became quite white, as she drew her hand from mine and +clasped both of hers upon her breast as if to still some agony there. + +My own heart beat hard. The grey wood seemed to lose its ashy tone and +become warm and rosy round us. I bent over her and took her up wholly +in my arms, and she laughed and threw hers around me in wild delight. + +"Carry me, Treevor, over the bridge and up the slope at the side. It +is so nice to feel you carrying me." + +It was no difficulty to carry her, and the waves of electricity from +her joyous little soul rushed through me till my arms and all the +veins of my body seemed alight and burning. + +I ran with her, over the narrow bridge and up the slope, where, as she +said, there was drier ground. And there, on a bed of leaves under some +tangled branches, I fell on my knees with her still clasped to my +breast, and covered her small satin-skinned face with kisses. + +"I am yours now. You must not let me go. I only want to look and look +at your face. I wish I could tell you how I love you. Oh, Treevor, I +can't tell you...." + +As I looked down, breathless with running and kisses and the fires she +had kindled within me, I saw how her bosom heaved beneath the yellow +jacket, how all the delicate curves of her breast seemed broken up +with panting sighs and longing to express in words all that her body +expressed so much better. + +"Darling, there is no need to tell me. I know." And I put my hand +round her soft column of throat, feeling all its quick pulses +throbbing hard into the palm of my hand. + +"Put your head down on my heart, Treevor. Lie down beside me; now let +us think we have drunk a little opium, just a little, and we are going +to sleep through a long night together. Hush! What is that? Did you +hear anything?" + +She lifted my hand from her throat and sat up, listening. + +I had not heard anything. I had been too absorbed. All had vanished +now from me, except the fervent beauty of the girl before me. + +The sea of desire had closed over my head, sealing the senses to +outside things; I drew her towards me impatiently. + +"It is nothing," I murmured. "I heard nothing." But she sat up, gazing +straight across a small cleared space in front of us to where the +impenetrable thicket of undergrowth again stood forward like grey +screens between the twisted tree trunks. + +"Yes, there was something; there, opposite! Look, something is +moving!" I followed her eyes and saw a strand of loose moss quiver and +heard a twig break in the quiet round us. We both watched the +undergrowth across the open space intently. For a second nothing +moved, then the boughs parted in front of us, and through the great +lichen streamers and rugged bands of grey-green moss depending from +them, peered an old, drawn-looking face. + +Suzee gave a piercing shriek of dismay, and started to her feet. + +"My husband!" she gasped. + +I sprang to my feet, and my right hand went to my hip pocket. The head +pushed through the thicket, and a bent and aged form followed slowly. +I drew out my revolver, but the figure of the old man straightened +itself up and he waved his hand impatiently, as if deprecating +violence. + +"Sir, I have come after my wife," he said, in a low, broken tone. + +I slipped the weapon back in my pocket. I had had an idea that he +might attack Suzee, but voice and face showed he was in a different +mood. + +Suzee clung to my hand on her knees, crying and trembling. + +"Go and sit over there," he said peremptorily to her, pointing to the +other side of the glade, far enough from us to be out of hearing. + +She did not move, only clung and shivered and wept as before. + +I bent over her, loosening my hand. + +"Do as he says," I whispered; "no harm can come to you while I am +here." + +Suzee let go my fingers reluctantly and crept away, sobbing, to the +opposite edge of the thicket. The old Chinaman motioned me to sit +down. I did so, mechanically wondering whether his calmness was a ruse +under cover of which he would suddenly stab me. He sat down, too, +stiffly, beside me, resting on his heels, and his hard, wrinkled hands +supporting his withered face. + +"Now," he said, in a thin old voice; "look at me! I am an old man, you +are a young one. You are strong, you are well; you are rich too, I +think." He looked critically over me. "You have everything that I have +not, already. Why do you come here to rob an old man of all he has in +this world?" + +I felt myself colour with anger. All the blood in my body seemed to +rush to my head and stand singing in my ears. + +I felt a furious impulse to knock him aside out of my way; but his age +and weakness held me motionless. + +"All my youth, when I was strong and good-looking as you are now, and +women loved me, I worked hard like a slave, and starved and saved. +When others played I toiled, when they spent I hoarded up. What was I +saving for? That I might buy myself _that_." He waved his hand in the +direction of Suzee, sitting in a little crumpled heap against a +gnarled tree opposite us. + +"I bought her," he went on with increasing excitement. "I bought her +from a woman who would have let her out, night by night, to +foreigners. I have given her a good home, she does no hard work. She +has a child, she has fine clothes. I work still all day and every day +that I may give money to her. She is my one joy, my treasure; don't +take her away from me, don't do it. You have all the world before you, +and all the women in it that are without husbands. Go to them, leave +me my wife in peace." + +Tears were rolling fast down his face now, his clasped hands quivered +with emotion. + +"When I was a young man I would not take any pleasure. No, pleasure +means money, and I was saving. When I am old I will buy, I said. It +needs money, when I am old I shall have it. I can buy then. But, ah! +when one is old it is all dust and ashes." + +I looked at his thin shrunken form, poorly clad, at his face, deeply +lined with great furrows, made there by incessant toil and constant +pain. I felt my joy in Suzee to wither in the grey shadow of his +grief. Some people would have thought him doubtless an immoral old +scoundrel, and that he had no business in his old age to try to be +happy as younger men are, to wish, to expect it. But I cannot see that +joy is the exclusive right of any particular age. A young man or young +woman has no more right or title to enjoy than an old man or woman; +they have simply the right of might, which is no _right_ at all. + +"Well, what do you want me to say or do?" I exclaimed impatiently. +"Take your wife back with you now, no harm has happened to her. Take +her home with you." + +"Yes, I can take her body, but not her spirit," answered the old man +sadly. + +His tone made me look at him keenly. Hitherto I had felt sorry for +Suzee that she was his; now, as I heard his accent, I felt sorry for +him that he was hers. + +A great capacity for suffering looked out of the aged face, such as I +knew could never look out of hers. + +"If you lift your finger she would come to you! Promise me you will +not see her again, not speak to her; that you will go. And if she +comes to you, you will not accept her." + +I was silent for a moment. + +"My ship goes to-morrow morning," I answered; "I am not likely to see +your wife again. I shall not seek her." + +"That is not enough," moaned the old man; "she will find a way. She +will come to you. Promise me you will not take her away with you; if +you do you will have an old man's murder on your head." + +I moved impatiently. + +"I am not going to take her away," I answered. + +"But promise me. If I have your promise I shall feel certain." + +I hesitated, and looked across at Suzee, a patch of beautiful colour +against the grey background of bent and aged trees. + +What had I intended to do, I asked myself. I could not take her, in +any case. I had not meant that. A virtuous American ship like the +Cottage City would hardly admit a Suzee to share my cabin. + +Then what did my promise matter if it but reflected the fact, and if +it satisfied him? + +"You are not willing to promise," he said, coming close to me and +peering into my face; "I feel it." + +I thought I heard his teeth close on an unuttered oath. Still he did +not threaten me. As I remained silent he suddenly threw himself on the +ground in front of me, and stretched out his hands and put them on my +feet. + +"Sir I implore you. Give me your word you will not take her, then I am +satisfied. Better take my life than my wife." + +I lifted my eyes for a moment in a glance towards Suzee and saw her +make a scornful gesture at the prostrate figure. The gold bracelets on +her arm below the yellow silk sleeve shewed in the action a contrast +to the old, worn clothing of the poorest material that her husband +wore. + +I rose to my feet and raised him up. + +"Get up, I hate to see you kneel to me. I have said I shall not take +your wife. As far as I am concerned, that is a promise. I have said +it." + +"Thank you," he said, inclining his head, and then moved away, not +without a certain dignity in his old form, lean and twisted though the +work of years had made it. + +I dropped back into my place where I had been sitting and watched the +two figures before me almost in a dream. + +He went up to the girl and spoke, apparently not unkindly, and some +talk ensued. Then I saw him bend down and take her wrist and drag her +to her feet. + +Suzee hung back as one sees a child hang back from a nurse, but she +moved forward though unwillingly, and so at last they passed from my +sight, through the grey trees and the weeping moss, the thin old man +stepping doggedly forward, the pretty, gay-clothed childish little +figure dragging back. + +Then all was still. The old grey wood was full of weird light, but the +silence of the night had fallen on it. Beast and bird and insect had +sought their lair and nest and cranny. Not a leaf moved. I felt +entirely alone. + +"One never knows in life," I thought, repeating my words to Morley. + +I felt a keen sense of longing regret surge slowly, heavily through +me. How exquisitely sweet and perfect her beauty was! And she had lain +in my arms for that moment, one moment that was stamped into my brain +in gold. I put my head into my hands and shut out the dim grey wood +from vision and recalled that moment. It came back to me, the touch of +her soft form, the smiling curve of the lips put up to me, the fire in +the liquid depths of those almond eyes, the round throat delicate as +polished ivory. The extraordinary triumph of beauty over the senses +came before my mind suddenly, presenting the problem that always +puzzles and eludes me. + +Why should certain lines and colours in pleasing the eye so +intoxicate and inflame the brain? For it is the brain to which beauty +appeals. Youth and health in a loved object are sufficient to capture +the physical senses, but they do not fill the brain with that +exaltation, that delirium of joy, that divine elation that sweeps up +through us at the sight of beauty. Divine fire, it seems to be lighted +first in the glance of the eyes. + +In an hour's time I left the wood and walked slowly shipwards. I felt +tired and overstrained, exceedingly regretful, full of longing after +that lovely vision that had come to me and that I had had to drive +away. + +The unearthly stillness combined with the brilliant, unabated, +unfailing light had a curious mystery about it that charmed and +delighted me. The sea, so blue and tranquil, sparkled softly on my +left hand, the pellucid blue of the sky stretched overhead, and all +the air was full of the sweet sunshine we associate with day. Yet it +was midnight. I pulled out my watch and looked at it to assure myself +of the fact. Sitka was wrapt in silence and sleep, my own footstep +resounded strangely in the burning empty streets. + +I had to pass the tea-shop on my way to the ship. One could see +nothing of it from the street as the compound shut it off from view, +and across the compound entrance a stout hurdle was now stretched and +barred. + +I passed on with a sigh, reached the ship lying motionless against +the quay, went down to my cabin without encountering any one, threw +off my clothes and myself in my berth, feeling a sense of fatigue +obliterating thought. + +The night before I had had no sleep, and the incessant golden glare, +day and night alike, wearies the nerves not trained to it. + +Suzee and almond eyes and injured husbands floated away from me on the +dark wings of sleep. + +It must have been an hour or so later that I woke suddenly with a +sense of suffocation. Some soft, heavy thing lay across my breast. I +started up and two arms clasped my neck and I heard Suzee's voice; +saying in my ear: + +"Treevor, dear Treevor, I have found you! Now I you will take me away, +and we will stay for ever and ever together. I am so happy." + +The cabin was full of the same steady yellow light as when I closed my +eyes. Looking up I saw her sweet oval face above me. + +She was lying on the berth leaning over me, supported on her elbows. + +As I looked up she pressed her lips down on my face, kissing me on the +eyes and mouth with passionate repetition and insistence. + +"Dear little girl, dear little Suzee!" I answered, putting up my arms +and folding them round her. + +I was only half-awake, and for a moment the old Chinaman was +forgotten. It was all rather like a delicious dream. + +"I am quite, quite happy now," she said, laying down her head on my +chest. "Oh, so happy, Treevor; you must never let me go. I love you +so, like this," she added, putting her two hands round my throat, +"when I can feel your neck and when you are sleeping. You looked +beautiful, just now, when I found you. I am sorry you woke." + +Clear consciousness was struggling back now with memory, but not +before I had pressed her to me and returned those kisses. She had laid +aside her little saffron silk coat, and her breast and arms shone +softly through a filmy muslin covering. + +I sat up regarding her; very lissom and soft and lovely she looked, +and my whole brain swam suddenly with delight. + +Surely I could not part with her! She was precious to me in that +madness that comes over us at such moments. + +I put my arms round her and held her to my breast with all my force in +a clasp that must have been painful to her, but she only laughed +delightedly. + +Then my promise came back to me. It was impossible to break that. What +was the good of torturing myself when I had made it impossible to take +her. Why had she come here? + +"Where is your husband?" I asked mechanically wondering if any strange +fate had removed him from between us. + +"Oh, I put him to sleep, he will give no trouble. I gave him opium, so +much opium, he will sleep a long time." + +"You have not killed him?" I said, in a sudden horror. + +Her eyes were wide open and full of extraordinary fire, she seemed in +those moments capable of anything. + +She put up her little hands and ran them through my hair. + +"Such black hair," she murmured. "Ah, how I love it! I love black +hair. How it shines, how soft it is! I hate grey hair. It is horrid. +No, I have not killed him. He will wake again when we have sailed and +are far away from Sitka." + +These words drove from me the last veil of clinging sleep. I kept my +arms round her and said: + +"But, Suzee, I can't take you with me. I promised your husband +to-night I would not." + +"That's nothing," she replied lightly; "promises are nothing when one +loves. And you love me, Treevor; you must love me, and I am coming +with you, you can't drive me away." + +The ship's bells sounded overhead on deck as she spoke. The sound +seemed a warning. I knew our ship was due to leave in the morning; I +did not know quite when. If it left the quay with the girl on board, +the horror of a broken promise would cling to me all my life. + +"I can't take you, it is impossible. You must go back and try to +forget you have ever seen me. You must go now at once, our ship is +leaving soon." + +"I know," said Suzee tranquilly; "and I shall be so happy when it +starts." + +I pushed her aside and got up from the berth. The cabin window stood +wide open. In the position the ship was it was easy to come in and out +through it from the quay. She must have entered that way. + +"You must go," I said between my teeth. I was afraid of myself. +Overhead I heard movements and clanking chains and shuffling feet. Our +ship was leaving, and she was still on board with me. + +"Go out of that window now, instantly, or I shall put you out." + +"You will not, Treevor," beginning to cry; "you won't be so unkind. I +only want to stay with you; let me stay." + +She was half-sitting on the edge of my berth, clinging to it with both +hands. She was pale with an ivory pallor, her breasts rose in sobs +under the transparent muslin of her vest. + +The ship gave a great heave under our feet. + +The blood beat so in my head and round my eyes I could hardly see her. +I moved to her, clinging to one blind object. I bent over her and +lifted her up. She was like a doll in weight. She was nothing to me. + +As she realised my intention she seemed to turn into a wild animal in +my arms. She bit and tore at my wrists, and scratched my face with her +long sharp nails. + +The ship was moving now and I was desperate. + +I walked with her to the window and put her feet over the ledge. + +We neither of us spoke a word. She clung to my neck so I thought she +must overbalance me and drag me through with her. + +With all my force I pushed her outwards and away from me. Her hands +broke from my neck and scratched down my face till the blood ran from +it. + +"Don't struggle so," I warned her; "you will drop into the sea if you +do." For a blue crack opened already between the moving ship and the +quay. + +Words were useless. She bit and struggled and clung to me like a cat +mad with fear and rage. + +With an effort I leant forward and half threw, half dropped her on the +woodwork. She fell there with a gasping cry, and I drew the window to +and shut it. + +The ship rose and fell now and the blue water gleamed in an +ever-widening track between its side and the quay. + +I leant against the window glass and watched her through it. She had +struggled to her knees and now knelt there weeping and stretching out +little ivory tinted hands to the departing ship. My own eyes were +full, and only through a mist could I see her kneeling there, a +brilliant spot of colour in dazzling light on the deserted quay. + +I turned away at last as we struck out on the open water. There, on my +berth, facing me as I stumbled back to it, lay a little yellow jacket. + +I threw myself upon it and put my hand over my eyes, while the ship +made out beyond the fairy islands. And the gold night passed over and +melted into the new day. + + + + +PART TWO + +THE VIOLET NIGHT + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +AT THE STUDIO + + +I was back in London again, back in my studio with the dull grey light +of the city falling through the windows, and all the vivid glory, the +matchless splendour of the North lay like a past dream in the +background of my memory. But still how clear the dream, how bright +each moment of it, and how long to my retrospective vision! Was it +possible I had only been there three or four months? It seemed like as +many years. For time has this peculiarity, that joy and action shorten +it while it is passing, but lengthen it when it is past. A week in +which we have done nothing of note, but spent in stationary idleness, +how long and tedious it seems, yet in looking back upon it, it appears +short as a day; while a week in which we have travelled far, seen +several cities and been glad in each, though the gilded moments have +danced by on lightning feet, when we look back upon that week it seems +as if we have lived a year. + +It was there, bright, radiant in my mind, the picture of those blue +days and golden northern nights, and how the light of the picture +seemed to gather round, and centre in a sweet youthful face with the +blue stone earrings, hanging against the creamy neck, beside the +rounded cheek, and the cluster of red flowers bound on each temple +against the smooth black hair! + +I settled myself lower in the deep roomy armchair, and pushed my feet +forward to the blazing fire. There was still half an hour before I +could decently ring for tea, and it was too dark already to work. I +had had a hard and disagreeable morning, too, and felt I needed rest +and quiet thought. How the red flame leapt in the grate, and what a +rich, warm, wine-dark colour it threw all round my red room! I rose +and drew the heavy crimson curtains across the windows to shut out +their steely patches of grey that spoiled the harmony of colour. I +returned to my chair and glanced round with satisfaction. Fitted and +furnished and hung with every beautiful shade of red, my studio always +delighted and charmed my vision. + +My friends said I had papered and furnished it in red to throw up the +white limbs and contours of my models, and this had something to do +with it, for hardly any colour shows off white flesh to better +advantage, though pale blue in this matter runs it close; but this was +not the prompting motive. Rather it was that in England where all is +so cold and tame and grey, from morals to colours, I liked to surround +myself with this glowing barbaric crimson, this warm inviting tint. + +My eye in wandering from floor to ceiling rested finally on the empty +easel, the numerous white unused sheets of paper near it. I felt in +despair. Not even a sketch of a Phryne yet! Not even a model found! +Not even the idea of where to find one! + +I had been seeing models all the morning, and how wearisome and +vexatious, and even, towards the end, how repulsive that becomes! The +wearying search after something that corresponds to the perfect ideal +in one's brain, the constant raising of hope and ensuing +disappointment as a misshapen foot or crooked knee destroys the effect +of neck and shoulder, produce at last an intolerable irritation. I had +dismissed them all finally, and they had trailed away in the rain, a +dismal procession of dark-clothed women. + +A quarter of an hour of red stillness in that comfortable room had +passed, and the warmth and quiet of it had crept over me and into me, +gradually soothing away all vexations, when a knock came on the door +and in answer to my, "Come in," some one entered the room behind me. + +"I am so glad to find you." + +I started to my feet at the sound of the soft voice, and went forward +to the door. + +"Viola! how good of you to come." I took both her hands and drew her +into the firelight which sparkled gratefully on her tall slender +figure and the fair waves of hair under her velvet hat. + +"May I stay and have tea with you? I have shopping all the afternoon +and as I was driving past I thought I would see if you were in and +disengaged." + +"I shall be delighted," I said as I wheeled another armchair up to the +fire. + +"You are sure? You have nothing else to do?" + +"Nothing, really nothing," I said, walking to the electric lights and +switching them on; "and if I had, I would leave it all to have tea +with you." + +She laughed, such a pretty dainty laugh! What a contrast to the rough +giggles amongst the models this morning! + +"Trevor! you are just the same as ever; all compliments. But I am +immensely glad you are not going to turn me out, for I am chilly and +tired and want my tea and a talk with you very badly." And she settled +down in her large chair with a sigh of content. + +I came back to the hearth and stood looking down upon her. The light +was rose-coloured, falling through tinted globes, and soft as the +firelight. She looked exquisite, and she must have seen the admiration +in my eyes for she coloured under them. + +She was wearing a dark green velvet gown edged fur and which fitted +her lovely figure closely, being perhaps designed to display it. + +"You have come like a glorious sunset to a gloomy day," I said. "I +have had a horrid morning and been depressed all the afternoon." + +"You have no inspiration, then, yet for the Phryne?" she answered, +glancing round; "otherwise you would be in the seventh heaven." + +"No," I groaned, "and the models are so dreadful; so far from giving +one an inspiration, they would kill any one had. All last week I was +trying to find a model, and all this morning again. I would give +anything for a good one." + +She murmured a sympathetic assent, and I went on, pursuing my own +thoughts freely, for Viola was my cousin and no one else knew or +understood me so well as she did. We had grown up together, and always +talked on all sorts of subjects to each other. + +"The difficulty is with most of these English models, they are so +thick and heavy, so cart-horsey, or else they are so thin. The tall, +graceful ones are too thin, I want those subtle, gracious lines, but I +don't want sharp bones and corners. I want smooth, rounded contours, +and yet the outlines to be delicate; I want slender grace and +suppleness with roundness...." + +I stopped suddenly, the blood mounting to my forehead. I was looking +down at her as she lay back in the chair. She looked at me, and our +gaze got locked together. A thought had sprung suddenly between us. I +realised all at once I was describing the figure before me, realised +that I was face to face with the most perfect, enchanting model of my +dearest dreams. + +There was a swift rush of red to her face, too, as I stopped. Up till +then she had been quietly listening. But she saw my thought then. It +was visible to both of us and for a moment a deadly silence dropped on +us. Of course, I ought not to have stopped, but the thought came to me +with such a blinding flash of sudden revelation that it paralysed me +and took speech from my lips. Just in that moment the door opened and +tea was brought in. I turned my attention immediately to making it, +and what with asking her how much sugar she would have and pressing +her to take hot toast and crumpets, the cloud of embarrassment passed +and all was light and easy again. I dismissed the idea instantly, and +we did not speak of the picture. I questioned her about her shopping, +we recalled the last night's dance where we had been together, and +spoke of a hundred other light matters in which we had common +interests. Then a silence stole over us, and Viola sank far back in +her chair, gazing with absent eyes into the fire. + +Suddenly she sat up and turned to me. I saw her heart must be beating +fast, for her face and lips had grown quite white. + +"Trevor, I wish you would let me be your model for the Phryne." + +Almost immediately she had spoken the colour rushed in a burning +stream across her face, forcing the tears to her eyes. I saw them brim +up, sparkling to the lids, in the firelight. + +I sat up in my chair, leaning forwards towards her. My own heart +seemed to rise with a leap into my throat. + +"Dearest! I could not think of such a thing! It is so good of you, +but...." + +I stopped. She had sunk back in her chair. She was looking away from +me. I saw the tears well up over the lids and roll slowly unchecked +down her face. + +"I should so like to be of use to you," she murmured in a low tone, +"and I think I could be in that way, immense use." + +I slid to my knees beside her chair, and took the slim, delicate white +hand that hung over the arm in mine and pressed it, very greatly moved +and hardly knowing what to answer her. + +"I shall never forget you have offered it, never cease to be grateful, +but...." + +"There is no question of being grateful," she broke in gently, "unless +it were on my side. I should think it an honour to be made part of +your work, to live for ever in it, or at least much longer than in +mortal life. What is one's body? It is nothing, it perishes so soon, +but what you create will last for centuries at least." + +I pressed my lips to her hand in silence. I felt overwhelmed by the +suggestion, by the unselfishness, by the grandeur of it. I saw that +the proposition stood before her mind in a totally different light +from that in which it would present itself to most women. But, then, +the outlook of an artist upon life and all the things in life is +entirely different from that of the ordinary person. It takes in the +wide horizon, it embraces a universe, and not a world, it sweeps up to +the large ideals, the abstract form of things, passing over the +concrete and the actual which to ordinary minds make up the all they +see. + +And Viola was an artist: she expressed herself in music as I did in +painting. Our temperaments were alike though our gifts were different, +and we served the same mystical Goddess though our appointments in her +temple were not the same. + +As an artist the idea was, to me, simple enough, as a man it horrified +me. + +"I could not allow it." + +She turned upon me. + +"Why?" she said simply. + +"Well, because ... because it is too great a sacrifice." + +"I have said it is no sacrifice. It is an honour." + +"It would injure you if it became known." + +"It will not become known." + +"Everything becomes known." + +"Well, I shouldn't care if it did." + +"By and by you might regret it. It might stand in the way of your +marrying some one you loved." + +"I don't believe I shall ever want to marry. Do I look like a domestic +person? In any case, I am quite sure I shouldn't want to marry a man +if he objected to my being a model for a great picture to my own +cousin. Why, Trevor, we are part of each other, as it were. I am like +your own sister. What can it matter? While you are painting me I shall +be nothing, the picture will be everything. I am no more than a dream +or vision which might come before you, and you will give me life, +immortality on your canvas. As an old woman when all beauty has gone +from me, I shall be there alive, young, beautiful still." + +"It is all sophistry, dearest, I can't do it." + +"You will when you have thought it all over," she said softly, "at +least if you think I should do--are you sure of that?" + +She rose and stood for a moment, one hand outstretched towards the +mantelpiece, and resting there for support. The velvet gown clung to +her, and almost every line of her form could be followed with the eye +or divined. The throat was long, round, and full, the fall of the +shoulder and the way its lines melted into the curves of the breast +had the very intoxication of beauty in them, the waist was low, +slender, and perfect, the main line to the knee and on to the ankle +absolutely straight. To my practised eyes the clothing had little +concealment. I knew that here was all that I wanted. + +"I am supposed to have a very perfect figure," she said with a faint +smile, "and it seems rather a pity to use it so little. To let it be +of service to you, to give you just what you want, to create a great +picture, to save you all further worry over it, which is quite +knocking you up, would be a great happiness to me." + +She paused. I said nothing. + +"I do not think I must stay any longer," she said glancing at my +clock, "nor shall I persuade you any more. I leave it entirely in your +hands. Write to me if you want me to come. Perhaps you may find +another model." + +She smiled up at me. Her face had a curious delicate beauty hard to +define. The beauty of a very transparent skin and sapphire eyes. + +I bent over her and kissed her bright scarlet lips. + +"Dearest! if you only knew how I appreciate all you have said, how +good I think it of you! And I could never find a lovelier model; you +know it is not that thought which influences me, but it is impossible. +You must not think of it." + +"Very well," she said with a laugh in her lovely eyes, "but _you_ +will!" + +She disengaged herself from me, picked up a fur necklet from her +chair, and went to the door. + +"Good-night," she said softly, and went out. + +Left to myself, I walked restlessly up and down the room. She was +right. I could think of nothing but her words to me, and how her visit +had changed my mood and all the atmosphere about me! It seemed as if +she had filled it with electricity. My pulses were all beating hard. +The quiet of the studio was intolerable. I was dining out that +evening, and then going on to a dance. I would dress now a little +early and then go to the club and spend the intermediate time there. + +My bedroom opened out of the studio by a small door, before which I +generally had a red and gold Japanese screen. I went in and switched +on the light and began to dress, trying to get away from my crowding +thoughts. + +The temptation to accept Viola's suggestion was the greater because +she was so absolutely free and mistress of her own actions. + +If she chose of her own free will to do any particular thing there was +practically no one else to be consulted and no one to trouble her with +reproof or reproaches. + +Early left an orphan and in possession of a small fortune in her own +right, she had been brought up by an old aunt who simply worshipped +her and never questioned nor allowed to be questioned anything which +Viola did. + +She had given her niece an elaborate education, believing that a +girl's mental training should be as severe as a boy's, and Viola knew +her Greek and Latin and mathematics better than I knew mine, though +all these had lately given way to the study of music, for which she +had a great and peculiar gift. + +The old lady was delighted when she found her favourite niece was +really one of the children of the gods, as she put it, and henceforth +Viola's life was left still more unrestrained. + +"She has genius, Trevor," she would say to me, "just as you have, and +we ordinary people can't profess to guide or control those who in +reality are so much greater than we are. I leave Viola to judge for +herself about life, I always have since she was quite a little thing, +and I have no fear for her. Whatever she does I know it will always be +right." + +Viola was just twenty, but this kind of training had given her an +intelligence and developed her intellect far beyond her years. + +In her outlook upon life she was more like a man than a woman, and, +never having been to school nor mixed much with other girls of her own +age, she was free from all those small, petty habits of mind, that +littleness of mental vision that so mars and dwarfs the ordinary +feminine character. + +In this question of posing for the picture, to take her face also +would, of course, be quite impossible, but I had my own ideal for the +Phryne's face, nor was that important. + +That the figure should be something of unusual beauty, something +peculiarly distinctive seemed to me a necessity. For the form of the +Grecian Phryne had, by the mere force of its perfect and triumphant +beauty, swept away the reason of all that circle of grey-bearded +hostile judges called upon to condemn it, had carved for itself a +place in history for ever. There should in its presentment be +something peculiarly arresting and enchanting, or the artistic idea, +the spirit of the picture, would be lost. + +The next morning I interviewed models again, and so strange is the +human mind that while I honestly tried to find one that suited me, +tried to be satisfied, I was full of feverish apprehension that I +might do so, and when I had seen the last and could with perfect +honesty reject her, I felt a rush of extraordinary elation all through +me. I knew, and told myself so, every half second, that Viola's +temptation was one I ought to and must resist, and yet the idea of +yielding filled me with a wild instinctive delight that no reason +could suppress. Yes, because once an artist has seen or conceived by +his own imagination his perfect ideal, nothing else, nothing short of +this will satisfy him. If it was difficult for me to find a model +before, it was practically impossible to do so now. For, having once +realised what it wanted, the mind impatiently rejected everything +else, though it might possibly have accepted something less than its +desire before that realisation of it. + +These models were all well-formed women, but they were commonplace. +The hold Viola's form had upon the eye was that it was not +commonplace. Its beauty was distinctive, peculiar, arresting. I was +not a painter of types, but of exceptions. The common things of life +are not interesting, nor do I think they are worthy subjects for Art +to concern itself with. Something unusually beautiful, transcending +the common type, is surely the best for the artist to try to +perpetuate. + +Friday came, the end of the week, and I was still without a model. My +nights had been nearly sleepless, and my days full of feverish +anxiety: an active anxiety to accept another sitter and withstand the +temptation of Viola, which fought desperately with the more passive +anxiety not to be satisfied and to be obliged to yield. Between these +two I had grown thin, as they fought within me, tearing me in the +struggle. + +To-day, Friday, the war was over. I had sent a note to Viola asking +her to have tea with me. If she came, if she still held to her wish, I +should accept, and the Phryne was assured. How my heart leapt at the +thought! Those last hours before an artist gives the first concrete +form to the brain children of his intangible dreams, how full of a +double life he seems! I was back from lunch and in the studio early; I +could not tell when she might come, and I closed all the windows and +made up the fire till the room seemed like a hot-house. I arranged a +dais with screens of flaming colour behind it reflecting the red rays +of the fire. + +If she consented, she should stand here after having changed into the +Greek dress. And as the moment chosen for the picture was that in +which Phryne is unveiling herself before her judges, I intended to let +her discard the drapery as she liked. I should not attempt to pose +her; I would not even direct her; I should simply watch her, and at +some moment during the unveiling she would fall naturally into just +the pose--some pose--I did not know myself yet which might give me my +inspiration--that I wished. Then I would arrest her, ask her to remain +in it. I thought so we should arrive nearest to the effect of that +famous scene of long ago. + +The dress I had chosen was of a dull red tint, not unlike that of +Leighton's picture, but I had no fear of seeming to copy Leighton. +What true artist ever fears he may be considered a copyist? He knows +the strength and vitality of his conception will need no spokesman +when it appears. + +I felt frightfully restless and excited, a mad longing filled me to +get the first sketch on paper. I hardly thought of Viola as Viola or +my cousin then. She was already the Phryne of Athens for me, but when +suddenly a light knock came on the door outside my heart seemed to +stand still and I could hardly find voice to say, "Come in." When she +entered, dressed in her modern clothes and hat, and held out her hand, +all the modern, mundane atmosphere came back and brought confusion +with it. + +"You said come early, so here I am," she said lightly. "Trevor," she +added, gazing at me closely, "you are looking awfully handsome, but so +white and ill. What is the matter?" + +"I have been utterly wretched about the picture. I know I ought not to +accept your offer, but the temptation is too great. If you feel the +same as you did about it, I am going to ask you to pose for me this +afternoon." + +"I do feel just the same, Trevor," she answered earnestly. "You can't +think how happy and proud I am to be of use to you." + +"You know what the picture is?" I asked her, holding her two hands +and looking down into the great eyes raised confidently to mine. + +"I want you to dress in all those red draperies, and then, standing on +the dais, to drop them, let them fall from you." + +"Yes, I think I know exactly. I will try, and, if I don't do it +rightly, you must tell me and we must begin again." + +She took off her hat and cloak and gloves. Then she turned to me and +asked for the dress. I gave it to her and showed her how it fastened +and unfastened with a clasp on the shoulder. + +She listened quietly to my directions, then, gathering up all the thin +drapery, walked to the screen and disappeared from my view. + +I sat down waiting. A great nervous tension held me. I had ceased to +think of the right or wrong of my action. I was too absorbed now in +the thought of the picture to be conscious of anything else. + +When she came from behind the screen clothed in the red Athenian +draperies her face was quite white, but composed and calm. She did not +look at me, but walked to the platform at once. I had withdrawn to a +chair as far from it as was practicable, divining that the nearer I +was the more my presence would weigh upon her. She faced me now on the +dais, and very slowly began to unfasten the buckle on her shoulder. I +sat watching her intently, hardly breathing, waiting for the moment. + +She was to me nothing now but the Phryne, and I was nothing but a +pencil held in the hand of Art. + +The first folds of crimson fell, disclosing her throat and shoulders, +the others followed, piling softly one on the other to her waist, +where they stayed held by her girdle. The shoulders and breasts were +revealed exquisite, gleaming white against the dull glow of the +crimson stuff. I waited. It was a lovely, entrancing vision but I +waited. She lowered her hand from her shoulder and brought it to her +waist, firmly and without hesitation she unclasped the belt, and then +taking the sides of it, one in each hand, with its enclosed drapery, +which parted easily in the centre, she made a half step forwards to +free herself from it, and stood revealed from head to foot. It was the +moment. Her head thrown up, with her eyes fixed far above me, her +throat and the perfect breast thrown outwards and forwards, the slight +bend at the slim waist accentuating the round curves of the hips, one +straight limb with the delicate foot advanced just before the other, +the arms round, beautifully moulded, held tense at her sides, as the +hands clutched tightly the falling folds behind her, these made up the +physical pose, and the pride, the tense nervousness, the defiance of +her own feelings gave its meaning expression. I raised my hand and +called to her to pause just so, to be still, if she could, without +stirring. + +She quivered all through her frame at the sudden shock of hearing my +voice; then stood rigid. I had my paper ready, and began to sketch +rapidly. + +How beautiful she was! In all my experience, in the whole of my +career, I had never had such a model. The skin was a marvellous +whiteness: there seemed no brown, red, or yellow shades upon it; nor +any of that mottled soap appearance that ruins so many models. She was +white, with the warm, true dazzling whiteness of the perfect blonde. + +My head burned: I felt that great wave of inspiration roll through me +that lifts the artist to the feet of heaven. There is no happiness +like it. No, not even the divine transports and triumph of love can +equal it. + +I sketched rapidly, every line fell on the paper as I wished it. The +time flew. I felt nothing, knew nothing, but that the glorious image +was growing, taking life under my hand. I was in a world of utter +silence, alone with the spirit of divine beauty directing me, creating +through me. + +Suddenly, from a long distance it seemed, a little cry or exclamation +came to me. + +"Trevor, I must move!" + +I started, dropped the paper, and rose. + +The light had grown dim, the fire had burned hollow. Viola had +dropped to her knees, and was for the moment a huddled blot of +whiteness amongst the crimson tones. I advanced, filled with +self-reproach for my selfish absorption. But she rose almost directly, +wrapped in some of the muslin, and walked from the dais to the screen. +I hesitated to follow her there, and went back to the fallen picture. +I picked it up and gazed on it with rapture--how perfect it was! The +best thing of a lifetime! Viola seemed so long behind the screen I +grew anxious and walked over to it. As I came round it, she was just +drawing on her bodice, her arms and neck were still bare. She motioned +me back imperatively, and I saw the colour stream across her face. I +retreated. It was absurd in a way, that blush as my eyes rested on her +then, I who just now ... and yet perfectly reasonable, understandable. +Then she was the Phryne, a vision to me, as she had said, in ancient +Athens. And now we were modern man and woman again. All that we do in +this life takes its colour from our attitude of mind towards it, and +but for her artist's mind, a girl like Viola could never have done +what she had at all. + +In a moment more she came from behind the screen. She looked white and +cold, and came towards the fire shivering. I drew her into my arms, +strained her against my breast, and kissed her over and over again in +a passion of gratitude. + +"How can I thank you! You have done for me what no one else could. I +can never tell you what I feel about it." + +She put her arms round my neck, and kissed me in return. + +"Any one would do all they could for you, I think," she said softly. +"You are so beautiful and so nice about things I am only too happy to +have been of use to you." + +"What a brute I was to have forgotten you were standing so long. Was +it very bad? Were you cold?" + +"At the end I was, but I shouldn't have moved for that. I got so +cramped. I couldn't keep my limbs still any longer. I was sorry to be +so stupid and have to disturb you." + +"I can't think how you stood so well," I said remorsefully, "and so +long. It is so different for a practised model." + +"Well, I did practise keeping quite still in one position every day +all this last week, but of course a week is not long." + +I had pressed the bell, and tea was brought in. I busied myself with +making it for her. She looked white and ill. I felt burning with a +sense of elation, of delighted triumph. The picture was there. It +glimmered a white patch against the chair a little way off. The idea +was realised, the inspiration caught, all the rest was only a matter +of time. + +We drank our tea in silence. Viola looked away from me into the fire. +She did not seem constrained or embarrassed. Having decided to do, as +she had, and conquer her own feelings, she did so simply, grandly, in +a way that suited the greatness of her nature. There was no mincing +modesty, no self-conscious affectation. The agony of confusion that +she had felt in that moment when she had stood before me with her hand +on the clasp of her girdle, had been evident to me, but her pride +forced her to crush it out of sight. + +I went over to her low chair and sat down at her feet. + +"Do you know you have shown me this afternoon something which I did +not believe existed--an absolutely perfect body without a fault or +flaw anywhere. I did not believe there could be anything so +exquisitely beautiful." + +She coloured, but a warm happy look came into her eyes as she gazed +back at me. + +"So I did really satisfy you? I realised your expectations?" she +murmured. I lifted one of her hands to my lips and kissed it. + +"Satisfied is not the word," I returned, looking up into the dark blue +eyes above me with my own burning with admiration. "I was entranced. +May I shew it to you?" + +"Yes, I should like to see it," she answered. + +I rose and brought over to her the picture and set it so that we both +could see it together. She gazed at it some time in silence. + +"Do you like it?" I asked suddenly with keen anxiety. + +"You have idealised me, Trevor!" + +"It is impossible to idealise what is in itself divine," I replied +quietly. She looked at me, her face full Of colour but her eyes alight +and smiling. + +"I am so glad, so happy that you are pleased. You have drawn it +magnificently. What life you put into your things--they live and +breathe." + +She turned and looked at my clock. + +"I must go now, I have been here ages." She began to put on her hat +and cloak. When I had fastened the latter round her throat, I took +both her hands in mine. + +"May I expect you to-morrow?" + +"To-morrow? Let me see. Well, I was going to the Carrington's to +lunch. I promised to go, so I must; but I need not stay long. I can +leave at three and be here at half past; only that will be too late in +any case on account of the light, won't it?" + +"Not if it is a bright day." + +"You see, I need not accept any more invitations. I shan't, if I am +coming here, but I have one or two old engagements I must keep." + +I dropped her hands and turned away. + +"But I can't let you give up your amusements, your time for me in this +way!" I said. + +Viola laughed. + +"It's not much to give up--a few luncheons and teas! As long as I have +time for my music I will give you all the rest." + +She stood drawing on her gloves, facing the fire; her large soft, +fearless eyes met mine across the red light. + +I stepped forwards towards her impulsively. + +"What _can_ I say? How can I thank you or express a hundredth part of +my gratitude?" + +Viola shook her head with her softest smile and a warm caressing light +in her eyes. + +"You look at it quite wrongly," she said lightly. "My reward is great +enough, surely! You are giving me immortality." + +Then she went out, and I was alone. + + * * * * * + +For a fortnight I was happy. Viola came regularly every day to the +studio, and the picture grew rapidly, I was absorbed in it, lived for +it, and had that strange peace and glowing content that Art bestows, +and which like that other peace "passeth all understanding." + +Then gradually a sense of unrest mingled with the calm. The whole +afternoon while Viola was with me I worked happily, content to the +point of being absolutely oblivious of everything except ourselves and +the picture. Our tea together afterwards, when we discussed the +progress made and the colour effects, was a delight. But the moment +the door was closed after her, when she had left me, a blank seemed to +spread round me. The picture itself could not console me. I gazed and +gazed at it, but the gaze did not satisfy me nor soothe the feverish +unrest. I longed for her presence beside me again. + +One day after the posing she seemed so tired and exhausted that I +begged her to lie down a little and drew up my great comfortable +couch, like a Turkish divan, to the fire. She did as she was bid, and +I heaped up a pile of blue cushions behind her fair head. + +"I am so tired," she exclaimed and let her eyes close and her arms +fall beside her. + +I stood looking down on her. Her face was shell-like in its clear +fairness and transparency, and the beautiful expressive eyebrows drawn +delicately on the white forehead appealed to me. + +The intimacy established between us, her complete willing sacrifice to +me, her surrender, her trust in me, the knowledge of herself and her +beauty she had allowed me gave birth suddenly in my heart to a great +overwhelming tenderness and a necessity for its expression. + +I bent over her, pressed my lips down on hers and held them there. She +did not open her eyes, but raised her arms and put them round my neck, +pressing me to her. In a joyous wave of emotion I threw myself beside +her and drew the slender, supple figure into my arms. + +"Trevor," she murmured, as soon as I would let her, "I am afraid you +are falling in love with me." + +"I have already," I answered. "I love you, I want for my own. You must +marry me, and come and live at the studio." + +"I don't think I can marry you," she replied in very soft tones, but +she did not try to move from my clasp. + +"Why not?" + +"Artists should not marry: it prevents their development. How old are +you?" + +"Twenty-eight," I answered, half-submerged in the delight of the +contact with her, of knowing her in my arms, hardly willing or able to +listen to what she said. + +"And how many women have you loved?" + +"Oh, I don't know," I answered. "I have been with lots, of course, but +I don't think I have ever loved at all till now." + +"What about the little girl in the tea-shop at Sitka?" + +"I don't think I loved her. I wanted her as an experience." + +"Is it not just the same with me?" + +"No, it isn't. It's quite different. Do not worry me with questions, +Viola. Kiss me and tell me you love me." + +She raised herself suddenly on one elbow and leant over me, kissing +me on the eyes and lips, all over my face, with passionate intensity. + +"I do love you. You are like my life to me, but I know I ought not to +marry you. I should absorb you. You would love me. You would not want +to be unfaithful to me. But fidelity to one person is madness an +impossibility to an artist if he is to reach his highest development. +It can't be. We must not think of it." + +The blood went to my head in great waves. The supreme tenderness of a +moment back seemed gone, her words had roused another phase of +passion, the harsh fury of it. + +"I don't care about the art, I don't care about anything. You shall +marry me. I will make you love me." + +"You don't understand. If you were fifty-eight I would marry you +directly." + +"You shall marry me before then," I answered, and kissed her again and +put my hands up to her soft-haired head to pull it down to my breast +and dragged loose some of its soft coils. + +"Trevor, you are mad. Let me get up." + +I rose myself, and left her free to get up. She sat up on the couch, +white and trembling. + +"Now you are going to say you won't come to me any more, I suppose?" I +said angrily. The nervous excitement of the moment was so great; there +was such a wild booming in my ears I could hardly hear my own voice. + +She looked up. The tears welled into her luminous blue eyes. + +"How unkind you are! and how unjust! Of course I shall come, must come +every day if you want it till the Phryne is done. You don't know how I +love you." + +I took her dear little hand and kissed it. + +"I am sorry," I said. "Forgive me, but you must not say such stupid +things. Of course you will marry me; why, we are half married already. +Most people would say we ought to be." + +I turned on the lights and drew the table up to the fire, which I +stirred, and began to make the tea. + +Viola sat on the edge of the couch in silence, coiling up her hair. + +She seemed very pale and tired, and I tried to soothe her with +increased tenderness. I made her a cup of tea and came and sat beside +her while she drank it. Then I put my arm round her waist and got her +to lean against me, and put her soft fair-haired head down on my +shoulder and rest there in silence. + +I stroked one of her hands that lay cold and nerveless in her lap with +my warm one. + +"You have done so much for me," I said softly; "wonderful things which +I can never forget, and now you must belong to me altogether. No two +people could love each other more than we do. It would be absurd of +us not to marry." I kissed her, and she accepted my caresses and did +not argue with me any more; so I felt happier, and when she rose to +leave our good-bye was very tender, our last kiss an ecstasy. + +When she had gone I picked up one of the sketches I had first made of +her and gazed long at it. + +How extravagantly I had come to love her now. I realised in those +moments how strong this passion was that had grown up, as it were, +under cover of the work, and that I had not fully recognised till now. + +How intensely the sight of these wonderful lines moved me! I felt that +I could worship her, literally. That she had become to me as a +religion is to the enthusiast. + +I must be the possessor, the sole owner of her. I felt she was mine +already. The agony and the loss, if she ever gave herself to another, +would be unendurable. If that happened I should let a revolver end +everything for me. I did not believe even the thought of my work would +save me. + +Yet how curious this same passion is, I reflected, gazing at the +exquisite image on the paper before me. If one of these lines were +bent out of shape, twisted, or crooked, this same passion would cease +to be. The love and affection and esteem I had for her would remain, +but this intense desire and longing for her to be my own property, +which shook me now to the very depths of my system, would utterly +vanish. + +Yet it would be wrong to say that these lines alone had captured me, +for had they enclosed a stupid or commonplace mind they would have +stirred me as little as if they themselves had been imperfect. + +No it is when we meet a Spirit that calls to us from within a form of +outward beauty, and only then, that the greatest passion is born +within us. + +And that I felt for Viola now, and I knew--looking back through a +vista of other and lighter loves--I had never known yet its equal. She +loved me, too, that great fact was like a chord of triumphant music +ringing through my heart. Then why this fancy that she would not marry +me? How could I possibly break it down? persuade her of its folly? + +I walked up and down the studio all that evening, unable to go out to +dinner, unable to think of anything but her, and all through the night +I tossed about, restless and sleepless, longing for the hour on the +following day which should bring her to me again. + +Yet how those hours tried me now! It would be impossible to continue. +She must and should marry me. It was only for me she held back from it +apparently, yet for me it would be everything. + +One afternoon, after a long sitting, the power to work seemed to +desert me suddenly. My throat closed nervously, my mouth grew dry, +the whole room seemed swimming round me, and the faultless, dazzling +figure before me seemed receding into a darkening mist. I flung away +my brush and rose suddenly. I felt I must move, walk about, and I +started to pace the room then suddenly reeled, and saved myself by +clutching at the mantelpiece. + +"What is it? What is the matter?" came Viola's voice, sharp with +anxiety, across the room. "Are you ill? Shall I come to you?" + +"No, no," I answered, and put my head down on the mantelpiece. "Go and +dress. I can't work any more." + +I heard her soft slight movements as she left the dais. I did not +turn, but sank into the armchair beside me, my face covered by my +hands. + +Screens of colour passed before my eyes, my ears sang. + +I had not moved when I felt her come over to me. I looked up, she was +pale with anxiety. + +"You are ill, Trevor! I am so sorry." + +"I have worked a little too much, that's all," I said constrainedly, +turning from her lovely anxious eyes. + +"Have you time to stay with me this evening? We could go out and get +some dinner, if you have, and then go on to a theatre. Would they miss +you?" + +"Not if I sent them a wire. I should like to stay with you. Are you +better?" + +I looked up and caught one of her hands between my own burning and +trembling ones. + +"I shall never be any better till I have you for my own, till we are +married. Why are you so cruel to me?" + +"Cruel to you? Is that possible?" Her face had crimsoned violently, +then it paled again to stone colour. + +"Well, don't let's discuss that. The picture's done. I can't work on +it any more. It can't be helped. Let's go out and get some dinner, +anyway." + +Viola was silent, but I felt her glance of dismay at the only +half-finished figure on the easel. + +She put on her hat and coat in silence, and we went out. After we had +ordered dinner and were seated before it at the restaurant table we +found we could not eat it. We sat staring at one another across it, +doing nothing. + +"Did you really mean that ... that you wouldn't finish the picture?" +she said, after a long silence. + +I looked back at her; the pale transparency of her skin, the blue of +the eyes, the bright curls of her hair in the glow of the electric +lamp, looked wonderfully delicate, entrancing, and held my gaze. + +"I don't think I can. I have got to a point where I must get away from +it and from you." + +"But it is dreadful to leave it unfinished." + +"It's better than going mad. Let's have some champagne. Perhaps that +will give us an appetite." + +Viola did not decline, and the wine had a good effect upon us. + +We got through some part of our dinner and then took a hansom to the +theatre. As we sat close, side by side, in one of the dark streets, I +bent over her and whispered: + +"If we had been married this morning, and you were coming back to the +studio with me after the theatre I should be quite happy and I could +finish the picture." + +She said nothing, only seemed to quiver in silence, and looked away +from me out of the window. + +We took stalls and had very good seats, but what that play was like I +never knew. I tried to keep my eyes on the stage, but it floated away +from me in waves of light and colour. I was lost in wondering where I +had better go to get fresh inspiration, to escape from the picture, +from Viola, from myself. Away, I must get away. _Coelum, non animum, +mutant qui trans mare current_ is not always true. Our mind is but a +chameleon and takes its hues from many skies. + +In the vestibule at the end I said: + +"It's early yet. Come and have supper somewhere with me, you had a +wretched dinner." + +Anything to keep her with me for an hour longer! Any excuse to put +off, to delay that frightful wrench that seems to tear out the inside +of both body and soul which parting from her to-night would mean. + +"Do you want me to come to the studio with you afterwards?" she asked. + +I looked back at her with my heart beating violently. Her face was +very pale, and the pupils in her eyes dilated. + +We had moved through the throng and passed outside. + +The night was fine. We walked on, looking out for a disengaged hansom. +I could hardly breathe: my heart seemed stifling me. What was in her +mind? What would the next few minutes mean for us both? + +My brain swam. My thoughts went round in dizzying circles. + +"We shan't have time for supper and to go to the studio as well," I +answered quietly. + +"I don't think I want any supper," she replied. + +A sudden joy like a great flame leapt through me as I caught the +words. + +A crawling hansom came up. I hailed it and put her in and sprang in +beside her, full of that delight that touches in its intensity upon +agony. "Westbourne Street," I called to the man. "No. 2, The Studio." + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE CALL OF THE CUCKOO + + +I stood looking through the window of my studio thinking. + +The worst had happened, or the best, whichever it was. Viola had +become my mistress. She had resolutely refused to be my wife, and the +alternative had followed of necessity. The picture had brought us +together, it held us together. I could not separate from her without +sacrificing the picture, and so destroying her happiness, as she said, +and rendering useless all that she had done for me so far. + +The picture forced us into an intimacy from which I could not escape +and which, now that the devastating clutch of passion had seized me, I +could not endure unless she became my own. Viola had seen this and +given me herself as unhesitatingly as she had at first given me her +beauty for the picture. + +In her relations with me she seemed to reach the highest point of +unselfishness possible to the human character. For I felt that it was +to me and for me she had surrendered herself, not to her own passion +nor for her own pleasure. + +She would have come day after day and sat to me, shewed me herself and +delighted in that self's-reproduction on the canvas, talked to me, +delighted in our common worship of beauty, accepted my caresses +and--for herself--wanted nothing more. + +I had worked well in the past fortnight since the night of the +theatre, not so well perhaps as in that first clear period of +inspiration, of purely artistic life when Viola was to me nothing but +the beautiful Greek I was creating on my canvas, but still, well. + +Some may think I naturally should from a sense of gratitude, a sense +of duty,--that I should be spurred to do my best, since avowedly Viola +had sacrificed all that the work should be good. + +But ah, how little has the Will to do with Art! + +How well has the German said, "The Will in morals is everything; in +Art, nothing. In Art, nothing avails but the being able." + +The most intense desire, the most fervid wish, in Art, helps us +nothing. On the contrary, a great desire to do well in Art, more often +blinds the eye and clogs the brain and causes our hand to lose its +cunning. Unbidden, unasked for, unsought, often in our lightest, most +careless moments, the Divine Afflatus descends upon us. + +We had arranged to have a week-end together out of town. Fate had +favoured us, for Viola's aunt had gone to visit her sister for a few +weeks, and the girl was left alone in the town house, mistress of all +her time and free to do as she pleased. The short interviews at the +studio, delightful as they were, seemed to fail to satisfy us any +longer. We craved for that deeper intimacy of "living together." + +This is supposed to be fatal to passion in the end, but whether this +is so or not, it is what passion always demands and longs for in the +beginning. + +So we had planned for four days together in the country, four days of +May, with a delicious sense of delight and secret joy and warm +heart-beatings. + +I had dined at her house last night when all the final details had +been arranged in a palm-shaded corner by the piano, our conversation +covered by the chatter of the other guests. No one knew of our plan, +it was a dear secret between us, but it would not have mattered very +much if others had known that we were going into the country. I was +always supposed to be able to look after Viola, and everybody assumed +that it was only a question of time when we should marry each other. +We had grown up together, we were obviously very much attached to each +other, and we were cousins. And with that amazing inconsistency that +is the chief feature of the British public, while it would be shocked +at the idea of your marrying your sister, it always loves the idea of +your marrying your cousin, the person who in all the world is most +like your sister. + +However, all we as hapless individuals of this idiotic community have +to do is to secretly evade its ridiculous conventions when they don't +suit us, and to make the most of them when they do. + +And as I was more anxious to marry Viola than about anything else in +the world, I welcomed the convention that assigned her to me and made +the most of it. + +For all that, we kept the matter of our four days to ourselves and +planned out its details with careful secrecy. + +I was to meet her at Charing-Cross station, and we were going to take +an afternoon train down into Kent where Viola declared she knew of a +lovely village of the real romantic kind. I had thought we ought to +write or wire for rooms at a hotel beforehand, but Viola had been sure +she would find what she wanted when we arrived, and she wished to +choose a place herself. + +So there was nothing more to do. My suit-case was packed, and when the +time came to a quarter past two I got into a hansom and drove to the +station. + +Almost as soon as I got there, Viola drove up, punctual to the minute. + +She knew her own value to men too well to try and enhance it by always +being late for an appointment as so many women do. + +She looked fresh and lovely in palest grey, her rose-tinted face +radiant with excitement. + +"I haven't kept you waiting, have I?" was her first exclamation after +our greeting. + +"I had so much work to do for Aunt Mary all the morning, I thought I +should not have time to really get off myself." + +"No, you haven't kept me waiting," I answered; "and, if you had, it +would not have mattered. You know I would wait all day for you." + +She glanced up with a wonderful light-filled smile that set every cell +in my body singing with delight, and we went down the platform to +choose our carriage. + +When the train started from Charing Cross the day was dull and +heavy-looking; warm, without sunshine. But after an hour's run from +town we got into an atmosphere of crystal and gold and the Kentish +fruit trees stretched round us a sea of pink and white foam under a +cloudless sky. + +When we stepped out at our destination, a little sleepy country +station, the air seemed like nectar to us. It was the breath of May, +real merry, joyous English May at the height of her wayward, uncertain +beauty. + +We left our light luggage at the station, and walked out from it, +choosing at random the first white, undulating road that opened before +us. + +The little village clustered round the station, but Viola did not want +to lodge in the village. + +"We can come back to it if we are obliged, but we shall be sure to +find a cottage or a wayside inn." + +So we went on slowly in the transparent light of a perfect May +afternoon. + +There are periods when England both in climate and landscape is +perfect, when her delicate, elusive loveliness can compare favourably +with the barbaric glory, the wild magnificence of other countries. + +On this afternoon a sort of rapture fell upon us both as we went down +that winding road. The call of the cuckoo resounded from side to side, +clear and sonorous like a bell, it echoed and re-echoed across our +path under the luminous dome of the tranquil sky and over the hedges +of flowering thorn, snow-white and laden with fragrance. + +Everywhere the fruit trees were in bloom: delicate masses of white and +pink rose against the smiling innocent blue of the sky. + +"Now here is the very place," exclaimed Viola suddenly, and following +her eyes I saw behind the high, green hedge bordering the road on +which we were walking some red roofs rising, half hidden by the masses +of white cherry blossom which hung over them. A cottage was there +boasting a garden in front, a garden that was filled with lilac and +laburnum not yet in bloom; filled to overflowing, for the lilac bulged +all over the hedge in purple bunches and the laburnum poured its young +leaves down on it. A tiny lawn, rather long-grassed and not innocent +of daisies, took up the centre of the garden, and on to this two open +casements looked; above again, two open windows, half-lost in the +white clouds of cherry bloom. + +"But how do you know they've any rooms?" I expostulated. + +Viola looked at me with jesting scorn in her eyes. + +"I don't know yet, but I'm going to find out." + +She put her hand unhesitatingly on the latch of this apparently sacred +domain of a private house, opened the gate, and passed in; I followed +her inwardly fearful of what our reception might be. + +"Men have no moral courage," she remarked superbly as we reached the +porch and rang the bell. + +A clean-looking woman came to the door after some seconds. + +"Apartments? Yes, miss, we have a sitting-room and two bedrooms +vacant," she answered to Viola's query. "Shall I show them to you?" + +We passed through a narrow, little hall smelling of new oilcloth into +a fair-sized room which possessed one of the casements we had seen +from outside and through which came the white glow and scent of the +cherry bloom and the song of a thrush. + +"This will do," remarked Viola with a glance round; "and what bedrooms +have you? We only want a sitting-room and one bedroom now." + +"Well, ma'am, the room over this is the drawing-room. That's let from +next Monday. Then I have a nice double-room, however, I could let with +this." + +"We will go and see it," said Viola. And we went upstairs. + +It seemed a long way up, and when we reached it and the door was +thrown open we saw a large room, it was true but the ceiling sloped +downwards at all sorts of unexpected angles like that of an attic, and +the casements were small, opening almost into the branches of the +cherry-tree. + +"What do you want for these two?" Viola enquired. + +"Five guineas a week, ma'am," returned the woman, placidly folding her +hands together in front of her. + +I saw a momentary look of surprise flash across Viola's face. Even +she, the young person of independent wealth, and who commanded far +more by her talents, was taken aback at the figure. + +"Surely that's a good deal," she said after a second. + +"Well, ma'am, I had an artist here last summer and he had these two +rooms, and he said as he was leaving: 'Mrs. Jevons, you can't ask too +much for these rooms. The view from that window and the cherry-tree +alone is worth all the money.'" + +We glanced through the window as she spoke. It was certainly very +lovely. A veil of star-like jasmine hung at one side, and without, +through the white bloom of the cherry, one caught glimpses of the +turquoise-blue of the sky. Beneath, the garden with the wandering +thrushes and its masses of lilac; beyond, the soft outline of the +winding country road leading to indefinite distance of low blue hills. + +"We'll take them for the sake of the cherry-tree," Viola said smiling. + +"Will you send to the station for our light luggage and let us have +some tea presently?" + +The woman promised to do both at once and ambled out of the room, +leaving us there and closing the door behind her. + +I looked round, a sense of delight, of spontaneous joy, filling slowly +every vein, welling up irresistibly all through my being. + +For the first time I stood in a room with Viola which we were going to +share. No other form of possession, of intimacy, is quite the same as +this, nor speaks to a lover in quite the same way. + +I looked at her. She stood in the centre of the rather poorly +furnished and bare-looking room, in her travelling dress of a soft +grey cloth. Her figure that always woke all my senses to rapture, +shewed well in the clear, simple lines of the dress. Over the perfect +bosom passed little silver cords, drawing the coat to meet. + +Beneath her grey straw summer hat, wide-brimmed, a pink rose nestled +against the light masses of her hair. Her eyes looked out at me with a +curious, tender smile. + +She threw herself into a low cane chair by the window, I crossed the +room suddenly and knelt beside it. + +"Darling, you are pleased to be here with me, are you not?" + +"Pleased! I am absolutely happy. I have the sensation that whatever +happened I could not possibly be more happy than I am." + +She put one arm round my neck and went on softly in a meditative +voice: + +"I can't think how some girls go on living year after year all through +their youth never knowing this sort of pleasure and happiness, for +which they are made, can you?" + +"They don't dare to do the things, I suppose," I answered. + +"Perhaps they wouldn't give them any pleasure, ... but it seems +extraordinary." Her voice died away. Her blue eyes fixed themselves on +me in a soft, dreaming gaze. + +I locked both my arms round her waist and kissed her lips into +silence. A knock at the door made me spring to my feet. Viola remained +where she was, unmoved, and said, "Come in." + +A trim-looking maid came in with rather round eyes fixed open to see +all she could. She had a can of hot water in her hand. + +"Please, mum, I thought you'd like some hot water." + +"Very much," returned Viola calmly. "Thank you." + +The maid very slowly crossed the room to the washing-stand and set the +can in the basin, covering it with a towel with elaborate care and +deliberateness, looking at Viola out of the corners of her eyes as she +did so. + +"Please, m'm, when your luggage comes shall I bring it up?" + +"Yes, do please, bring it up at once," replied Viola, and the girl +slowly withdrew, shutting the door in the same lengthy manner after +her. + +Viola got up and crossed to the glass. She took off her hat and +smoothed back her hair with her hand. Each time she did so, the light +rippled exquisitely over its shining waves. + +"I wonder if I ought to wash my face?" she remarked, looking in the +glass; "does it look dusty?" + +"Not in the least," I said, studying the pink and white reflection in +the glass over her shoulder. + +"Don't waste the time washing your face. Come and look out of the +window." + +We went over to the little casement, and leant our arms side by side +on the sill. + +The glorious afternoon sunlight was ripening and deepening into +orange, a burnished sheen lay over everything, the blue hills were +changing into violet, the trees along the road stood motionless, soft, +and feathery-looking in the sleepy heat. As we looked out we saw a +light cart coming leisurely along and recognised our luggage in it. + +Some fifteen minutes later the round-eyed maid reappeared, with a man +following her carrying our luggage. + +"If you please, m'm, Mrs. Jevons says would the gentleman go down and +give what orders he likes for dinner for to-day and to-morrow as the +tradesmen are here now and would like to know." + +"Do you mind going down, Trevor?" Viola asked me. "I want just to get +a few of my things out?" + +"Certainly not," I answered, "I'll go." And I followed the maid out +and downstairs. + +When I returned to the room about half-an-hour later, it was empty, +and as I looked round it seemed transformed, now that her possessions +were scattered about. I walked across it, a curious sense of pleasure +seeming to clasp my heart and rock it in a cradle of joy. + +I glanced at the toilet table. On the white cloth lay now two +gold-backed brushes, a gold-backed mirror and a gold button-hook, a +little clock in silver and a framed photograph of me; over the chair +by the dressing-table was thrown what seemed a mass of mauve silk and +piles of lace. I lifted it very gently, fearing it would almost fall +to pieces, it seemed so fragile, and discovered it was her +dressing-gown. How the touch of its folds stirred me since it was +_hers_! + +I replaced it carefully, wondering at the keen sensation of pleasure +that invaded me as the soft laces touched my hands. + +I turned to my own suit-case, unstrapped it, opened it, and then +pulled out the top drawer of the chest, intending to lay my things in, +but I stopped short as I drew it out. + +A sheet of tissue paper lay on the top, and underneath this was her +dinner-dress--a delicate white cloud of shimmering stuff told me it +was that--and at the end of the drawer I saw two little white shoes +and white silk stockings. + +I paused, looking down at the contents of the drawer, wondering at the +wave of emotion they sent through me. Why, when I possessed the girl +herself, should these things of hers have any power to move me? + +It was perhaps partly because this form of possession, of intimacy, +was so new to me, and partly because I was young and still keenly +sensitive to all the delights of life and not yet even on the edge of +satiety. I lifted one little shoe out and sat down with it in my hand, +gazing at its delicate, perfect shape, my heart beating quickly and +the blood mounting joyously to my brain. + +What a wonderful thing it is, this life in youth when even the sight +of a girl's shoe can bring one such keen, passionate pleasure! + +Yet what pain, what agony it would be if by chance I had come across +this shoe and held it in my hand as now, and there was no violet night +to follow, no white arms going to be stretched out through its deep +mauve-tinted shadows! + +I was still sitting with the shoe in my hand when Viola reappeared, +her arms full of lilac. + +"I went down to the garden to get some of this," she said. "It looked +so lovely. What are you doing, Trevor, sitting there? The woman has +made the tea, and it will be much too strong if you don't come down." + +She came up behind me and I saw her flush and smile in the glass as +she caught sight of her shoe. I looked up, and she coloured still more +at my glance. + +"I am thinking about this and other things," I said smiling up at her. + +She bent over and kissed me and took the shoe out of my hand. + +"I am glad you like my little shoe," she said gently with a tender +edge to her tone, replacing the shoe in the drawer. + +"Now do come down." + +She put all the lilac in a great mass in the jug and basin, and we +went downstairs. + +After tea we went out to explore our new and temporarily acquired +territory, and found there was another flower garden at the side of +the house. This, like the one in front, was hedged round with lilac +laden with glorious blossom of all shades, from deepest purple through +all the degrees of mauve to white. Every here and there the line was +broken by a May-tree just bursting into bloom that thrust its pink or +white buds through the lilac. A narrow path paved with large, uneven, +moss-covered stone flags led down the centre and on through a little +wicket gate into the kitchen garden beyond, so that altogether there +was quite an extensive walk through the three gardens, all +flower-lined and sweetly fragrant. We passed slowly along the path +down to the extreme end of the kitchen garden where there was a seat +under a broad-leaved fig-tree. By the side of the seat stood an old +pump, handle and spout shaded by a vine that half trained and half of +its own will trailed and gambolled up the old red brick garden wall. A +flycatcher perched on the pump handle and thrilled out its gay +irresponsible song. + +"I have just come over the sea and I am so glad to be here, so glad, +so glad," it seemed to be saying, and two swallows skimmed backwards +and forwards low down to the earth, gathering mud from a little pool +by the pump. + +We sat down on the bench and looked out from under the fig-tree at the +pure tranquil sky, full of gold light and just tinted with the first +rosy flush of evening. + +There was complete silence save for the clear, gay, rippling song of +the bird, and the deep peace of the scene seemed to fall upon us like +an enchanted spell. + +Viola dropped her head on my shoulder with a sigh of contentment. + +"I am so happy, so content. I feel as glad as that little flycatcher. +It has escaped from the sea and the storms and winds, and I've got +away from London, its tiresome dinners and hot rooms and all the +stupid men who want to marry one." + +I laughed and watched her face as it lay against me, and I saw her +eyes half-closed as she gazed dreaming into the sunshine. + +Faint pink clouds sailed across the sky at intervals like downy +feathers blown before a breeze; the flycatcher continued its +chattering song to us, some bees hummed with a warm summer-like sound +over the wall. + +An hour slipped by and seemed only like one golden moment. We heard a +bell jangle from the direction of the house, and when I looked at my +watch I saw it was time to dress for dinner. + +When we retraced our steps the whole garden was bathed in rosy light +and the lilac stood out in it curiously and poured forth a wonderful, +heavy fragrance as we passed. + +The voice of spring, that beautiful low whisper with its promise of +summer and cloudless days was in all the air. Had we been married +several years I do not think either Viola or I would have found Mrs. +Jevons's cooking good nor praised the dinner that night; the +attendance also might have been condemned. But as it was we were in +that magic mirage of first days together and everything seemed +perfect. + +When it was over we sought the outside again and sat watching the now +paling rose of the sky being replaced by clear, tender green. A +passion and rapture of song, the last evening song of the birds, was +being poured out on the still dewy air all round us. One by one the +songsters grew tired and ceased as a pale star grew visible here and +there in the transparent sky, and complete silence fell on the garden. +Only a bat flitted across it silently now and then, and the white +night-moths came and played by us. I had my arm round her waist and I +drew her close to me and looked down upon her through the dusky +twilight. + +"Let us go, too, dearest, it is quite late." + +She looked up, the colour waving all over her face, and smiled back at +me, and we went in and upstairs. + +When we reached our room, the window was wide open as we had left it +and the room seemed full of soft violet gloom, heavy with fragrance of +the lilac that shewed its pale mauve stars through the shadows. + +It was so beautiful, the effect of the deep summer twilight, that I +told her not to light the candles. + +"Shew yourself to me in this wonderful mysterious half-light, nothing +can be more beautiful." + +I sat down on the foot of the bed watching her, my heart beating, +every pulse within me throbbing with delight. + +Viola did not answer. She did not light the candles, but with the +rustle of falling silk and lace began her undressing. + +That night I could not sleep. The window stood open, and the room was +filled with the soft mysterious twilight of the summer night with its +thousand wandering perfumes, its tiny sounds of bats and whirring +wings. + +The cherry bloom thrust its long, white, scented arms into the room. I +lay looking towards the white square of the window wide-eyed and +thinking. + +A strange elation possessed my brain. I felt happy with a clear +consciousness of feeling happy. One can be happy unconsciously or +consciously. + +The first state is like the sensation one has when lying in hot water: +one is warm, but one hardly knows it, so accustomed to the embrace of +the water has the body become. + +The other state of conscious happiness is like that of first entering +the bath, when the skin is violently keenly alive to the heat of the +water. + +Viola lay beside me motionless, wrapped in a soundless sleep like the +sleep of exhaustion. Not the faintest sound of breathing came from her +closed lips. + +The room was so light I could distinctly see the pale circle of her +face and all the undulating lines of her fair hair beside me on the +pillow. + +I felt the strange delight of ownership borne in upon me as it had +never been yet. + +We had not dared to pass a night together at the studio. + +We had only had short afternoons and evenings, hours snatched here and +there, over-clouded by fears of hearing a knock at the door, a +footstep outside. + +But this deep solitude, these hours of the night when she _slept_ +beside me, all powers, all the armour of our intelligence that we wear +in our waking moments, laid aside, seemed to give her to me more +completely than she had ever given herself before. + +And gazing upon her in serene unconsciousness, I felt the intense joy +of possession, a sort of madness of satisfaction vibrating through me, +stamping that hour on my memory for ever. + +The next morning we came down late and enjoyed everything with that +keen poignant sense of pleasure that novelty alone can give. To us +coming from a stay of months in town the small sitting-room, the open +casement window, the simple breakfast-table, the loud noise of birds' +voices without, the green glow of the garden seemed delightful, almost +wonderful. + +So curtains were really white! how strange it seemed. In town they are +always grey or brown, and the air was light and thin with a sweet +scent, and the sky was blue!!! + +It was a fine day, the sun poured down riotously through the +snow-white bloom of the cherry-tree, two cuckoos were calling to each +other from opposite sides of the wood, and their note, so soft in the +distance, so powerful when near, resounded through the shining air +till it seemed full of the sound of a great clanging bell, musical and +beautiful. + +Viola was delighted; her keen ear enjoyed the unusual sound. + +"Oh, Trevor, that repeated note, how glorious it is! It reminds me of +a sustained note in Wagner's _Festpiel_. I do wish they'd go on." + +She seated herself by the window listening with rapture in her eyes. +The woman of the house brought in our coffee, but I doubt if we should +have got any breakfast, only the cuckoos wanted theirs and fortunately +flew off to get it. + +When the glorious musical bell rang out far on the other side of the +wood, dimmed by distance, Viola came reluctantly to the table. + +"How delicious this is! this being in the country _just at first_. +Look at the table with its jonquils! isn't it pretty? Look at the +honey and cream!" + +"I think you had better eat some of it," I answered; "or at least pour +out the coffee." + +Viola laughed and did so, and we breakfasted joyously, full of the +curious gayety that belongs to novelty alone. + +Then we went out, and the outside was equally entrancing. The scent of +the lilac seemed to hang like a canopy in the air under which we +walked. There was a fat thrush on the lawn, young and tailless. The +sight of him and the dappled marks on his white breast gave me a +strange pleasure. + +We sat down on the turf finally where the cherry-tree cast a light +shade, a sort of white shadow in the sunlight, from its blossoms. +Viola thrust her hands down into the cool, green grass. + +"How lovely this is," she said, looking up the tall tree above us. +"Look at its great tent of white blossoms against the blue sky; it's +like a picture of Japan!" + +After a time, when we were tired of the garden, we went out and turned +down the white road to explore the country. + +It was very hot, and the glare from the road excessive, but as it was +all new to us it all seemed delightful, even to the white dust that +coated our lips and got into our eyes whenever the breeze stirred. + +After about a mile and a half of walking we came to an oak wood. The +road dipped suddenly between cool, green, mossy banks and lay in deep, +grateful shade from the arching oaks above. I climbed the bank on one +side and looked into the wood. It was very thick and wild, apparently +rarely penetrated. Through the close-growing stems of the undergrowth +I saw a bluebell carpet lying like inverted sky beneath the oaks. + +"The wood looks very attractive," I said as I rejoined Viola; "but we +can't stay to go into it now. We haven't the time; it's half past +twelve already." + +"I'm sorry," said Viola, looking wistfully at the green wood. "This is +the nicest part; but I suppose we can't disappoint that woman by not +getting back to luncheon." + +So we walked back slowly through the noonday sun, admiring the double +pink May peeping out from the green hedges. + +When we came in just before lunch, she took the easy chair facing the +window, and I sat down on one opposite and watched her. She was +wearing a white cambric dress that looked very simple and girlish; she +was smiling, and her face was delicately rose-coloured after the +walk. + +A sense of responsibility came over me. She was my cousin, my own +blood relation. I must protect her, must think for her if she would +not think for herself. + +"You know it's risky being down here like this. You had much better +come to some rustic church with me in another village and marry me +there." + +"No. You know perfectly well I am not going to marry you," she said +softly, looking up at me with a smile in her eyes, great pools of blue +beneath their exquisitely arched lids. + +"It is ridiculous to suppose that you, an artist of twenty-eight, will +want to keep faithful to one woman all the rest of your life--or her +life. It would be very bad for you, if you did. One can't go against +Nature, and Nature has not arranged things that way. Marriage is a +pleasure perhaps; but Nature never arranged, marriage, and a man +should not allow himself unnatural pleasures." + +She was really laughing now, but I knew her resolve was perfectly +serious and I did not see how I could break it up. + +"Well, but some men do keep to one woman all their life and are none +the worse for it; look at a country clergyman for instance." + +Viola raised her eyebrows with a laugh. + +"How can you be sure of the country clergyman? I expect he goes up to +town sometimes.... However, of course I admit he is fairly faithful, +but how about being none the worse for it? A country clergyman is +about the most undeveloped creature you could have, and a great artist +is the most developed, the nearest approach to a god of all human +beings." + +I did not answer, but sat silent staring at her. She looked such a +sweet little Saxon schoolgirl in her white dress, but with such +tremendous character and power in those great shining eyes. + +"But if we marry now," I said at last, "and anything should ... should +come between us, I don't see it would be any worse than...." + +"Than if we were living together without marriage," she put in +quickly. "Yes, I think it would. Look here, if we marry now with a +great blaze and fuss, and invite all our friends to see the event, +which is great nonsense anyway, and then you see some other woman +later you covet, it seems to me there are only three ways open to us: +either you go without the woman and suffer very much in consequence +and always owe me a grudge for standing in your way; or you take her +and I have to profess to see nothing and look on quietly, which I +could never stand, it would send me mad; or we must have all the +trouble and worry and scandal of a divorce and call in the public to +witness our quarrel; and why _should_ we have the public to interfere +in our affairs?" she added, her eyes flashing. "What is it to them +whom I love or whom I live with, whom I leave or quarrel with? These +are all private matters." + +"And if we live together and the same thing happens?" I pursued +quietly. + +"Why, then we should separate, only without any trouble, any +publicity; we should fall apart naturally. If you preferred any one +else, you must go to her; I should slip away out of your life, and we +should each be free and untied." + +"If it's so much better for the man to change," I said smiling, "it +must be the same for the woman." + +"So it is," rejoined Viola quickly; "the more men a woman has the more +developed she is, the better for her morally, if there is no +conventional disgrace attaching to it. Amongst the Greeks, Aspasia and +all those women of her class were far more intellectual, more +developed than the wives who were kept at home to spin and rear +children." + +"All these things ought to be optional. If a woman loves one man so +much she wants to stay with him for ever and ever, probably through +such a great passion she reaches her highest development; but until +she has found that man she ought to be allowed to go from one to +another without any disgrace attaching to it. And, of course, just the +same law holds good for the man." + +"Outsiders like the world and the law ought never to be allowed to +interfere between a man and a woman. They never can know the right or +the wrong of their relations to each other well enough to enable them +to be judges. Nobody ever knows but the man and the woman themselves, +and they ought to be left alone; what they do, whether in quarrelling +or love, ought to be as private as the prayers one sends to Heaven." + +She paused, and through the window came the gay, loud, triumphant call +of the cuckoo seeking its mate of an hour in the heart of the glad +green wood. + +Viola listened with a look of delight. + +"How happy they are!" she said. And the note came again, instinct with +love and joy. + +"How well Nature arranged everything, and how Man has spoiled it all! +Fancy passion, the most subtle, evanescent, delicate, elusive +emotion--and yet one so strong--fancy that being bound down by crabbed +and crooked laws, being confined by wretched little conventions!" + +"But, anyway, we shall have to say we are married here." + +"Oh, say anything you like," rejoined Viola laughing; "saying doesn't +do any harm." + +"Yes, but then we must fix some place where we've _been_ married and +all that, do you see; we'd better go somewhere further off I think and +stay away some time and come back married. I do feel very worried +about it, Viola. I think it would be much simpler to do it than to +lie about it." + +Viola jumped up and came over to me. + +"Dear Trevor, I am _so_ sorry you are worried, but really it will work +out all right. We will go abroad somewhere from here, we might go to +Rome, it's a lovely time of year, and then to Sicily, to Taormina, ... +and we'll stay away a year and you finish the picture and I'll write +an opera, and then we'll come back married to town in the season and +we'll have _been_ married before we leave England of course, and then +it will be a year ago, and I don't think anybody will bother about it +much." + +I looked down upon her. She was so pretty and so dear to me: I must +keep her, and if those were the only terms upon which she would stay +with me I must accept them. + +The landlady came into the room at this minute followed by the maid to +lay the luncheon; in the landlady's hand was a fat, black book which +she presented diffidently to Viola. + +"It's the Visitors' book, ma'am," she said. "I thought you and the +gentleman would like to write your names in it in case of any +letters...." + +"Yes, very much," returned Viola promptly, with a little side smile at +me, and sat down and wrote in it. + +When she had done so, she closed the book, and as the maid was in and +out of the room during luncheon, it was not till it was finished and +cleared away and we were alone that I asked her what she had written. + +"Mr. and Mrs. Lonsdale; that's right, isn't it? I did not put Trevor +for I always think 'make your lies short' is a good rule." + +"I thought you were such a truthful person," I said a little sadly. + +"So I am--to you, for instance, so I should be to any one who has the +right to hear truth; but the world has no right, and I don't care what +lies I tell it, it's such an inquisitive old bore!" + +I laughed. Viola always made you laugh when you felt you ought to be +angry with her. + +"Come out now," I said, "let's enjoy this lovely afternoon. I should +like to paint you under that tree," I added musingly, looking out on +the tree in its white glory. + +"In your usual style?" she returned laughing. "I don't think you could +here. Mrs. Jevons would turn me out as not being respectable; not even +being Mrs. Lonsdale would save me." + +"You would make a lovely picture, even dressed," I returned, musing; +"but then of course it would not sell for half the price." + +"Nothing is really snapped at but the nude. That lovely landscape I +painted when I was young and foolish,--it took me two years to work +it off, and the veriest little daub of an unclothed girl goes directly +at a hundred guineas." + +"A great compliment to our natural charms," laughed Viola. "I am +delighted personally at anything that is a note of protest against the +tyranny of the dressmaker and fashion." + +"What shall we do?" I queried; "it's beautifully hot," I added +persuasively. + +"I'll tell you: we will go into the oak wood; the oaks grow low and +the ground and the land rise all round, no one can possibly see us +without coming quite close; on that blue carpet you shall paint me +lying asleep, we will call the picture 'The Soul of the Wood,' and you +shall sell it for a thousand. Come along." + +So it was decided, and with one of her thick cloaks, that she could +throw round her instantly if surprised, and my artist's pack we +started for the wood. + +It was a hot golden day, the one day we should get of really fine +weather in the whole English year, and when we reached the wood the +light under the oak boughs was magnificent, a soft mellow glory +falling down on the blue hyacinths which grew so closely together that +it was as if a sea of vivid colour had invaded the dell or a great +patch of the blue sky had fallen there. + +We had difficulty in getting into the wood as the undergrowth of +young oak scrub made it almost impenetrable; it stood up straight, and +the great, swaying, huge, spreading boughs of the old oaks above came +down and rested on and amongst the young oaks, like a roof upon +pillars, and the leaves of both intermingled till they were like green +silk curtains hung from ceiling to floor. When we had finally pushed +through almost on our hands and knees to the centre of the wood, the +scrub grew less close, the carpet of blue was perfect, a circle of +green shut us in, we were in a magic chamber, through the roof of +which came floods of green and golden light. + +Viola cast aside the "tyranny of the dressmaker" and shook out her +light hair. Then she threw herself on the hyacinth bed, looking +upwards to the low arching roof. At that moment the call of the +cuckoo, wild, entrancing, came overhead, and she raised her arms with +a look of rapture as the slim grey bird dashed through the upper oak +branches in pursuit of its mate. It was a perfect pose for the "Soul +of the Wood," and I begged her to keep it while I rapidly caught the +idea and sketched it in roughly in charcoal. + +Those happy sunlit hours in the wood, how fast they slipped away! I +was absorbed in the work and completely happy in it, and Viola I +believe was equally happy in the delight she knew she was giving me. + +We came back very hungry to our tea, and very pleased with ourselves, +the sketch, and our successful afternoon. + +It was six o'clock, the light was mellowing, and a thrush singing with +all its own wonderful passion and rapture on the lawn. The scent of +the lilac, intensely sweet, came in at the window and filled the room. + +In the evening we went out and sat under the cherry-tree, watching the +stars come out and gleam through its white bloom. + +"Sing me the Abendstern," murmured Viola, leaning her head against me. +"I was a dutiful model all the afternoon, it's your turn to amuse me +now." + +So I sang the Abendstern to her under the cherry-tree, and its white +shadow enveloped us both, making her face look very beautiful under +it; and when I had finished singing we kissed each other and agreed +that the world was a very delightful place as long as there was +Wagner's music in it, and cherry-trees to sit under, and white bloom +and stars and lips to kiss. + +Between nine and ten, after a very countrified supper we went up to +bed in the slanting-roofed room under the thatch, full still of the +tender light of a spring evening. + +The next day was delicious, too, and the next, but on the fourth we +were quite ready to go. We had drained the cup of joy which that +particular place held for us and it had no more to offer. The +cherry-tree pleased us still, but it did not give us the ecstatic +thrill of the first view of it. The lilac scent streamed in, but it +did not go to the head and intoxicate us as when we came straight from +the air of Waterloo; the thrush gurgled as passionately on the deep +green lawn, but the gurgle did not stir the blood. All was the same, +only the strange spell of novelty was gone. + +Viola seemed so pleased to be leaving it quite hurt me. When I went +upstairs I found her packing her little handbag with alacrity and +singing. + +"Are you glad to be going?" I asked. + +"Yes," she said surprised; "are not you?" + +"But you have been happy here?" I said with a tone of remonstrance. + +"Oh, yes!" she exclaimed; "wildly, intensely happy! It's been four +days' enchantment, but then it's gone now; we can't get any _more_ out +of this place. We have enjoyed it so much we have drained it, +exhausted it; like the bees, we must move on to a fresh flower." + +It was true that was all we could do, yet I looked round the bare +attic-like room with regret. Could ever another give me more than that +had done? Could there ever be a keener joy, a deeper delight than I +had known in the shadows of that first violet night? + + + + +PART THREE + +THE BLACK NIGHT + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +IN MAYFAIR + + +The spring of the next year found us installed in a small house in +Mayfair, for the season. + +For a year we had been abroad; the summer in Italy, the winter in +Egypt, and had come back with our eyes full of colour, armed against +the deadly greyness of England for three months at least. + +We had travelled as Mr. and Mrs. Lonsdale, we came back as Mr. and +Mrs. Lonsdale. There had been no difficulty so far. Every one seemed +satisfied, and what was far more important, so were we. + +The whole top floor of the Mayfair house was my studio, and made a +fairly large and convenient one. We kept on the old studio as a matter +of sentiment, but rarely went there now. + +The "Phryne" and the "Soul of the Wood" had been finished and accepted +for exhibition. Both were sold, the "Phryne" for five thousand pounds, +the "Soul of the Wood" for four thousand, and I had brought from +abroad many unfinished sketches and partly finished pictures. + +In all this time we had lived very close to each other: Viola had been +my only model against an ever-varied background. Not the faintest +shadow had flecked the sunshine of our passion for each other. Viola +had written her operetta, and it had been taken for a London theatre. +A Captain Lawton had written the libretto under the title of the "Lily +of Canton." The music was weird and charming, suited to the strange +Chinese story and scenery. It was to be produced in May, and Viola +always spoke of the first night with excited joy. + +It had been a full, rich year. Like bees, as Viola had said, we had +gone from flower to flower, draining the honey from each new blossom +and passing on. New places, new skies, new scenes had all in turn +contributed to our pleasure and given us inspiration which took form +again in our art. + +The vivid desert backgrounds, the light-filled skies of Upper Egypt +crept into my pictures, the cry of impassioned Eastern music in the +forbidden dancing-dens of Keneh stole into Viola's refrains. + +On that sunny afternoon in April, as we took tea in our tiny and +gimcrack drawing-room together, Viola and I felt in the best of +spirits. + +"Captain Lawton and Mr. and Mrs. Dixon are coming in to dinner +to-night," Viola remarked. "Lawton tells me he saw the manager +yesterday, and the piece seems getting on all right." + +"I am very glad," I answered. "Do you know, Viola, a Roman girl called +here this morning, and wanted me to take her on as a model. She's +very good. I think I'd better secure her, if ... if...." + +"If what...?" asked Viola smiling. + +"Well, if you don't mind," I answered, colouring. + +"Mind? I? No, dearest Trevor. Of course not. You must want a new model +by now. Do engage her by all means. Is she good altogether?" + +"I don't know. I have only seen her face yet. That's very lovely. +Veronica she calls herself. I thought, anyway, she would do splendidly +for the head." + +"What a piece of good luck she should come now. You were just wanting +a model for your Roman Forum picture," returned Viola. And then the +matter dropped, for some women came in to tea and broke off the +conversation. + +At eleven o'clock the next morning I was in my studio, awaiting +Veronica. I was pleased, interested, elated. The girl was really +beautiful, and the sight of beauty exhilarates and animates like wine. + +She was very punctual and came confidently into the room as the clock +struck. The cold morning light through a north window fell upon her +and instead of the light warming the face as so often happens, her +face seemed to warm the light. She was about sixteen, with a skin of +velvet, dark, quite dark, but clear as wine, and with a wonderful red +flush glowing through the cheek; the eyes were brilliant, brown to +blackness, but full of fire and lustre; her hair, dark as midnight, +clustered and fell about her face in soft curls. The nose was dainty, +refined, with perfect nostrils, the mouth deepest red and curved with +the most tender, seducing lines. I had never seen such a face. The +beauty of it was glorious, to an artist awe-inspiring. + +I stood gazing at her, delighted, spellbound, and the young person +keenly observed my admiration. She smiled, revealing true Italian +teeth, exquisite, white, and perfect. + +"I am Veronica Bernandini," she said. "I have two hours to spare in +the morning and three in the afternoon." + +My first thought was not to let any other artist have her; not till I +had painted her at any rate and startled London with her face. + +"Are you sitting to any one else?" I asked mechanically. + +"No. I give the rest of my time to my family. We are very poor. My +mother and father are old. I am their sole support." + +I waved my hand impatiently. All models tell you that. One gets so +tired of it. + +"What do you want an hour? I will take all your time. You must not sit +to any one else." + +Her eyes gleamed, and the lovely crimson mouth pouted. + +"Five shillings an hour if you take the five hours a day," she +answered. + +"I suppose you know that's double the ordinary price?" I said smiling. +"However, I don't mind. I'll pay you if I find you sit well. Take off +your hat now and sit down--anywhere. I want just to make a rough +sketch of your head." + +She obeyed, and I drew out some large paper sheets and found a piece +of charcoal. Sitting down opposite her, I gazed at her meditatively. +Now that her hat had been removed I could see the extraordinary wealth +and beauty of her hair. It was black with lights of red and gold fire +in it, and fell in its own natural waves and curls and clusters all +about her small head and smooth white forehead. + +What about a Bacchante? She was a perfect study for that. I always +imagined--perhaps from seeing antiques, where it is so represented, +that the head of a Bacchante should have hair like this; and it is +rare enough in English models. Suppose I made a large picture--The +Death of Pentheus--the king in Euripides' tragedy of the Bacchae who in +his efforts to put down the Bacchanalia was slain by the enraged +Bacchantes. Suppose I put this one in the foreground.... But then it +seemed a pity to spoil such a lovely face with a look of rage.... +Well, anyway, let me have a sketch first, and see what inspiration +came to me. I got up and looked amongst my odd possessions for a +vine-leaf wreath I had. When I found it and some ivy leaves, I came +back to her and fastened them round her head, in and out of those +wonderful vine-like tendrils of hair. She sat demurely enough and very +still while I did so, but when I wanted to unfasten the ugly modern +bodice and turn it down from her throat so as to get the head well +poised and free, she pressed her lips on my hand as it passed round +her neck. + +I drew my hand away. + +"Don't be silly, or I shan't employ you," I said with some annoyance. + +She pushed out her crimson lips. + +"You are too handsome to be an artist; they are mostly such guys." + +"Hush, be quiet now, be still," I said, moving back from her to see if +I had the effect I wanted. I felt with a sudden rush of delight I had. +The face was just perfect now: the head a little inclined, the leaves +in the glossy hair, no more exact image of the idea the word Bacchante +always formed in my mind could be imagined. + +I sketched her head in rapidly. I made two or three draughts of it in +charcoal, then I got my colours and did a rough study of it in colour. +Her neck, like that of almost all Italians, was a shade too short, but +round and lovely in shape and colour. The time passed unnoticed, and +it was only when the luncheon gong sounded I realised how long I had +been at work. + +I sprang up and gathered the sheets of paper together. + +"That's all now," I said. "I'll take you again three to six. Are you +tired?" I added, as she got up rather slowly and took up her hat. + +"No," she answered, shaking her head. "All that was sitting down; +that's easy." + +Her voice sounded flat, but I was too hurried to take much notice of +it. I wanted to get down to show Viola the work. + +"Well, three o'clock then," I repeated, and ran downstairs. + +Viola was waiting in the dining-room, but not at the table. I went +over to the window where she was standing, and showed her the +sketches. + +"Oh, Trevor, how lovely; how perfectly beautiful!" she exclaimed, +gazing at the charcoal head. + +"You have done that well, and what a glorious face!" + +I flushed with pleasure. + +"I'm so glad you like it. Come up this afternoon and see the model, +see me work. Say you're out, and let's have tea in the studio." + +"Very well," she answered as the luncheon came in; "I'll say we want +tea up there. What a good idea to make her a Bacchante; it's the very +face for it." + +"Suppose I took her as a Bacchante dancing, the whole figure I mean, +nude, under a canopy of vine leaves, make all the background, +everything, green vines with clusters of purple grapes, and then have +her dancing down the sort of avenue towards the foreground, with the +light pouring down through the leaves. How do you think that would +be?" + +"I should think it would be lovely," Viola answered slowly, with a +little sigh. + +I looked across at her quickly. + +"You would like to be my only model for the body?" I said gently, +keeping my eyes on her face. + +"No, Trevor, I really don't want to be selfish, and I do think you +should have another, only...." + +"Yes, only...?" + +"Well, when a woman is in love she does so long to be able to assume +all sorts of different forms, to be different women, so as to always +please and amuse and satisfy the man she loves. How delightful it +would be if one could change! One can be pretty, one can be amiable, +clever, charming, anything, but one cannot be different from oneself; +one must be the same, one can't get away from that." + +I laughed. + +"I don't want you to be different. I should be overwhelmed if you +suddenly changed into some one else! And whatever models I have, you +will always be the best. There could not be another such perfect +figure as yours." + +Viola smiled, but an absent look came into her face. + +After luncheon we both went up to the studio together, and Viola was +ensconced in my armchair when Veronica's knock came on the door. + +I said, "Come in," and she entered with the confident air of the +morning. Directly she saw Viola, however, she seemed to stiffen with +resentment, and stood still by the door. + +"Come in," I repeated, "and shut the door." + +Viola looked at her kindly and laid down the charcoal sketch in her +lap. + +"I have been looking at your head here and thinking it so beautiful," +she said gently. + +Veronica only stared at her a little ungraciously in return, and took +off her hat in silence. + +I put her back into position, re-arranged the fillet on her head, and +set to work to complete the colour study. + +We worked in unbroken silence till tea was brought up at four. Viola +rose to make it, and I told the girl to get up and move about if she +liked, and I set the canvas aside to dry. Viola offered the girl a cup +of tea, but she refused it and went and sat under the window on an old +couch, leaving us by the table. + +The canvas was a success in a way so far, but the great sweetness of +the expression in the charcoal sketch of the morning was not there. + +When tea was over I went up to Veronica and told her I must leave the +canvas of the head to dry, I could not work more on it then, and asked +her if she would pose for me as the Bacchante dancing. I wanted to see +if she would do for a larger picture. + +I got no answer for a minute. Veronica looked down and began to pull +at the faded fringe of an old cushion. + +At last I repeated my question. + +"Not while _she's_ here," she muttered in a low, fierce tone. + +I was surprised at the resentment in look and voice. + +"Nonsense," I said with some annoyance. "You can pose before her as +well as before me." + +Veronica did not answer, only pulled in sullen silence at the cushion. + +"You are wasting my time," I said impatiently. + +Veronica looked through the window. + +"I shan't take off my clothes before her," she muttered defiantly. + +I turned away from her in annoyance and approached Viola who had not +moved from her chair on the other side of the room. She sprang up and +came to meet me. + +"She objects to my being here?" she said quickly. "Is it bothering +you? Because, if it is, I'll go; that'll settle it." + +"It's awfully stupid. I'm so sorry, Viola; it's so idiotic of her." + +Viola smiled brightly up at me. + +"Never mind, I'll go. You'll be down soon, now." + +I held the door open for her, and with a smiling nod at me she passed +through and went down the stairs. I waited till her bright head had +disappeared, and then closed the door and went back to Veronica. + +"Now," I said, "Mrs. Lonsdale has left us. Will you get up and stand +as I want you to? Or do you want me to dismiss you?" + +I felt extremely angry and annoyed. My heart beat violently. Viola had +come there by my invitation, she had deprived herself of any possible +society for the afternoon, and now had been practically turned out by +this impertinent little model. + +Veronica got sulkily up from the couch and began to undress in +silence. + +I walked away and flung myself into the armchair Viola had vacated, +and picked up the charcoal sketch. + +How sweet the face was in that! And yet what an awful little devil the +girl on the couch had looked. + +I was so accustomed to Viola's unfailing either good temper or +self-command, that I was beginning to forget women had bad tempers as +well as men. + +After a minute or two Veronica came over to me; she had let her hair +down, and it fell prettily on her shoulders. I laid down the charcoal +sketches and looked at her critically as she approached. + +Her figure had all the beauty of great plumpness and youthfulness. +Every contour was round and full, and yet firm. Her body was beautiful +in the sense that all healthy, sound, young, well-formed things are, +but there was, as it were, no soul in the beauty, nothing transcendent +in any of the lines or in the colour. It was something essentially of +earth, un-dreamlike, appealing to the senses, and to them alone. + +I was struck with the great contrast it presented to the form of +Viola, which was so wonderfully ethereal, so divine in colour and +design. Every line in it was long and tapering, never coming to a +sudden stop, but merging with infinite grace into the next, and the +dazzling, immaculate whiteness of it all made it seem like something +of heaven. It suggested the vision, the ideal, all that man longs +after with his soul, that stirs the celestial fires within his brain, +not merely the flame of the senses. + +In the form before me, the lines were short and often abrupt, the +curves quick and expressionless; it would do capitally for the +"Bacchante," it would not have served for a moment for the "Soul of +the Wood." + +The girl was smiling now, and appeared quite amiable. Most people are +when they have got their own way. She asked me if I thought she would +do. + +"Yes, I think you will. Stand back there, please, against that green +curtain. Now put one foot forward as if you were advancing. Yes, +that's right; lift both your arms up over your head." + +I got up to give her a hoop of wire to hold as an arch over her, and +put a spray of artificial ivy over it. + +"That'll do. Now stand still, and let's see how that works out." + +The girl posed well. Evidently she was a model of considerable +practice, and I obtained an excellent sketch before a quarter to six, +when she said she must leave off and dress. + +She did so in silence, while I studied my own work. When she had her +hat on I looked up and asked her if she wanted to be paid. + +"No," she answered, "we'll leave it till the end of the week. +Good-bye." + +"Good-bye," I said, and she went out. I laid the sketch on the table +beside me, and sat thinking. A sudden blankness fell upon me as I +stood mentally opposite this new idea that had never presented itself +to me in the same form before, that in my former easy, wandering +existence I had always welcomed a beautiful model, not only for the +gain to my art, but because of the incidental pleasure it might bring +me. But now I realised suddenly that this girl's beauty brought me no +elation. _It was not any use_, and in a flash I saw, too, that no +woman now, no beauty could be any use to me ever any more, for I was +not a single irresponsible existence any longer, but involved with +another which was sacred to me. + +How often in the past, when entangled in some light _liaison_, I had +wished for deeper, stronger emotions, something to wake the mind and +stir the soul! Then in my love for Viola I had found all these and +welcomed them madly. She had stirred my whole sleeping being into +flame, and given me those keener and stronger desires of the brain, +and satisfied them; and till now it had seemed to me that this passion +for her was a free gift from the hands of Fate. Now, suddenly, I saw +that the gift had its price. That, after all, there was something to +be said for those light free loves of the past. That some joy had been +taken out of life, now those glittering trifles, toys of the senses, +were taken from me, made impossible. + +For the first time I realised that a great passion has its yoke, and +that, in return for the great joy it gives, it demands and takes one's +freedom. + +I sat motionless, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden blaze of light +that the simple incident of this model's advent had thrown on an +obscure psychological fact. + +I saw now that my love for Viola was not wholly a gain, not something +extra added to my life's-cup that made it full to overflowing, but, as +always in this life, something had been taken away as well as added. + +I felt as a child might feel who was presented with a magnificent gift +with which he was overjoyed, but who on taking it to the nursery to +add to his other treasures, saw his nurse locking these all away from +him for ever in a glass case above his reach. + +As the child might, I hugged my new gift to me and delighted in it, +but I could not help feeling regret for those other small, glittering +toys with which I had formerly played so much, now shut away behind +the deadly glass pane of conscience. + +It was not that Veronica appealed to me specially. I did not feel I +cared whether she came to the studio again or not except for the +picture, but the great principle involved, now that I was face to face +with it, appalled me. + +Viola had sought to leave me free, by refusing marriage with me; but, +after all, what difference does the mere nominal tie make? + +The essential attribute of a great passion--something that cannot be +eliminated from it--is the chain of fidelity it forges round its +prisoners. + +I do not know how long I sat there, but at last I rose mechanically, +put the sheets of paper together, and went downstairs. + +As I came to the drawing-room door I heard that Viola was playing. +The door stood ajar, and silently I entered and took my seat behind +her. She was improvising, just playing as the inspiration came to her, +and wholly absorbed and unconscious of my presence. There was a great +glass facing her, in which her whole image was reflected, and had she +glanced into it she must have seen me; but she did not. Her eyes gazed +out before her, wrapt, delighted; her face was quite white, her lips +parted in a little smile. + +I saw she was under the influence of her music and absolutely happy, +full of joy, such as I could never give her. A great jealousy ran +through me, kindling all that passion I had for her. The thoughts and +reflections of an hour back seemed swept out of mind like dead leaves +before a storm. No other lighter loves could give me one-tenth of the +emotion that the pursuit and conquest of this strange soul could do. +For I had not conquered it. It was absorbed in, and lived in mysteries +of joy that its art alone could give it, and I was outside--almost a +stranger to it. + +The thought burnt and stung me, and the fire of it wrapped round me as +I sat watching her. That body, so slim, so perfect, she had given me, +but I wanted more, I wanted that inner spirit to be mine, I wanted to +conquer that. + +I watched her in a fierce, jealous anger, almost as I might have done +seeing her caressed by another lover, she was so wonderfully happy, so +independent of me, so unconscious of me; but man loves that which is +above him, difficult to obtain, hard to pursue. We cannot help it. We +are made to be hunters, and I felt I loved Viola then with fresh +passion. + +Some time or other I would succeed in breaking through that charmed +circle in which she lived, in making her yield up to me the spiritual +maidenhood which, as it were, was hers. + +I would be first and last and everything to her, and not even her art +should count beside me. + +I closed my eyes and put my head back on the couch where I was sitting +and gave myself up to listening to the music. + +How the instrument answered her! What a divine melody rose from it, +floating gently on the air like quivering wings. + +Then suddenly came a storm of passion, and the room was filled with a +tempest of sound, while one strong thread of melody low down in the +bass ran through it all and seemed a fierce reproach of one in +anguish. At last one sheet of sound seemed to sweep the piano from end +to end, a cry of dismay, of pain, the woe and grief of one who sees +his world shattered suddenly before his eyes; then there was silence. +I sprang up and clasped her in my arms. + +"Trevor," she exclaimed, like one awakening from a dream; "I had no +idea you were there." + +"No," I said savagely; "you were so absorbed, you never noticed me +come in." + +"Well, I heard the model go, and I waited and waited for you to come +down; but you were so long I turned to the piano to console me." + +"Which it did quite well, apparently," I answered. + +A sweet, tender look came over her face, and she stretched out her +arms to me. + +"Nothing could wholly console me for your absence," she said; "and you +know that quite well; but the music always helps me to bear it." + +I drew her to me and strained her close up to me in silence, longing +to conquer, to come into union with that mysterious inner something we +call the Soul. + +Yet in this unconquerable quality, in this pursuit of that which +always escapes from our most passionate embraces, man finds an +inexhaustible delight. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +FREEDOM + + +The weeks slipped by, and I worked hard at the painting, while Viola +gave herself up to the music and all the work that the approaching +production of her opera gave her. Our evenings were always spent +together. We set aside two evenings in the week for our friends, +giving only small dinners of eight or ten. On the other evenings when +we were not dining out ourselves we went to the opera, and supper +after. + +I often wondered whether there was anything or nothing in the fact +that we were not married to each other, which affected our feelings +and relations to each other. Does that conventional bond make some +subtle difference, just by its existence; and did that account for the +fact that we seemed to find a greater delight in each other's society, +a greater need of each other than the average husband and wife do; or +was it only because we happened to be two who had met and really loved +more than most people do, and had we been married, we should have felt +the same? + +Certainly we were looked upon as peculiar because, being married, we +were so much together. + +The true explanation is perhaps that, as a rule, the people who love +do not marry, and those who marry do not love. + +Coming home from our supper after the opera, I felt the same +passionate delight in Viola as that first evening when I had driven +her to my studio. Waking in the dawn to find her sleeping on my arm, I +had the same joyous elation as I had known under the thatched roof, +during our first stay together. Unfortunately, however, a great +passion for one object does not necessarily exclude lesser passions, +or, rather, passing fancies of the senses for other objects. It is +generally supposed that it does, but my experience is rather to the +contrary. + +With women possibly it may do so oftener than with men, but extreme +constancy, absolute exclusiveness is not the natural product of a +great passion. It is a question rather of sentiment and artificial +restraint. + +Nature is not on the side of sentiment. She is always a prodigal, with +the one great aim before her of ensuring the continuance of the race. + +Consequently, when a man is already loving one object with all his +force, it is not Nature's plan to make him turn from all others by +instinct. No, she is ever ready with others, ever rather prompting +him, leading him towards others, in order that, should accident or +death remove his first mate, others should not be wanting, and her +great scheme should not be spoiled nor interrupted. + +Nature is always on a grand scale, always acting in and for the +plural, never for the singular. + +Does she want one oak to survive, she throws on the ground a million +acorns for that purpose. + +Man she has fitted to love not one, but hundreds, and our senses act +automatically and are always on the side of Nature. It is the mind +alone that man has taught to act against her, and that demands and +gives fidelity in love. + +A woman's attitude towards a second lover, when she is deeply in love +with the first, is not so often "I don't want him," as "It would +grieve my first lover, therefore I will not take him." + +A man, when offered a second mistress, usually thinks "I will take +her, but I mustn't let the first one know." In both it is the anxiety +of Nature that neither should be left mateless, part of her tremendous +scheme of insurance against mischance. + +And all this great love and passion which I had for Viola, passion +which exhausted me almost to the point sometimes of being unable to +work, did not seal my senses against the beauty of Veronica--beauty I +painted daily in the studio. + +I used to enjoy the afternoon spent there now with a different +pleasure from that of work merely. The sensuous attraction had become +very great, and I was beginning to feel it was not innocent and to +half-long for, half-dread an interruption, something to break through +it, end it. + +Veronica professed to have fallen in love with me. It is rather a +trick of models to do this. They think it can do no harm, and possibly +extra benefits to themselves may accrue. Perhaps she was in love with +me, if a mere covetousness of the senses can be called love. This she +had, and from the first she had determined to subdue me. Her ruse of +the first day had succeeded. Viola had never again come to the studio +while she was there, and so hour after hour we were alone together +undisturbed. I kept hard at work the whole time, hardly exchanging a +word with her, and would go downstairs for tea with Viola; but she +employed her eyes continually to tell her story, and caught my hand +and kissed it whenever she was able. + +Just at first I felt only amusement and annoyance. Then gradually I +used to expect the soft look to come into the beautiful eyes, the +touch of the warm lips on my hand began to stir and thrill me. I felt +a vague dislike and distrust of the girl mentally, I thought she was +vain, selfish, mercenary, revengeful, and bad-tempered, but with all +that Nature had nothing to do. Her servants, the senses, submitted to +the youth and beauty of the newcomer, and that was all Nature cared +about. + +One afternoon she was posing as usual, and I was painting, deeply +absorbed, on the picture of the "Bacchante" when her voice suddenly +disturbed me. + +"May I move just for a minute?" + +"Certainly," I exclaimed, looking up and laying down my brush. + +The girl laid down her spray of ivy-leaves, walked across the space +intervening between us, and, before I was aware of her intention, +threw her arms round my neck and kissed me. + +The kiss seemed to burn my lips, but with the current of passion I +also felt a storm of anger against her. I sprang up and seized her +shoulders, pushing her away from me. + +"Don't, Trevor, don't, you are hurting me; you are hurting my +shoulders," she exclaimed, the tears starting to her eyes. + +I took my hands from her arms, and saw my grasp had left deep marks of +crimson on them. + +"Go and get dressed then, and go," I said furiously; "I'm not going to +paint any more." I pushed my chair away and threw the palette and +brushes on to the table near. + +Veronica shrank from me and turned pale. In that moment the intense +beauty of the face and figure was borne in upon me, she clung as if +for support to the easel with one soft hand, all the youthful body +seemed to shrink together in a beautiful dismay, great tears rolled +down the cheeks from the dark reproachful eyes. I saw it all for one +moment, feeling the anger sinking down under that strange influence +that beauty has upon us. But I would not look at her. I turned my back +on her and went over to the window, hardly conscious of what I did. I +stood there for a few moments; then, suddenly, there came a cry and +the sound of a fall behind me. I looked round and saw her lying, a +little crushed heap, by the couch where she usually dressed. + +I sprang forward, full of self-reproach. How foolish I had been! So +unnecessarily harsh! I went to her. In obedience to my order, she had +put some of her clothes on, and now lay there senseless apparently and +quite white, her arms, still bare, stretched out on the floor beside +her. She looked so pretty, so small, round, and helpless, that my +heart went out to her. I felt I had been such a brute. As I stooped +over her to raise her I saw the great crimson bruises I had left on +her arms. + +I picked her up and put her on the couch. She lay there quite still, +pale, her eyes closed, unconscious. + +I pushed the hair off her forehead, and, dipping my handkerchief into +a glass of water on the table, pressed it on to her head. I was +kneeling by the couch. The sweet, little, rounded face, the soft +unconscious body lay just beneath my eyes. + +She opened her eyes slowly: + +"Trevor, do forgive me," she whispered, and smiled up at me just a +little, opening the curved lips; "do say you forgive me, give me one +kiss." + +In the violent reaction of feeling, in the torrent of self-reproach +for being so hard on a child like this, the senses conquered, I put my +head down, and kissed her passionately, far more passionately from +that great reaction of preceding anger, on her lips. + +"Dear, dear little girl, are you better?" + +She threw her arms round me. + +"Oh, Trevor, I do love you so, I do love you, I do love you." + +Full of that great delight, so transient, so baseless, so unreasoning, +yet so great, which the senses give us, of that passion in which the +mind has no part, that passes over us as the wind ruffles the surface +of the lake without moving the depths below, I kissed her over and +over again, and pressed her to me, soft shoulders and undone hair and +wounded arms. + +The next moment the vision of Viola came before my brain, and I rose +to my feet. Veronica caught at my hand, and, raising it to her lips, +kissed it in a tempest of passion. I drew it away-- + +"Get up and finish your dressing," I said very gently. "This sort of +thing can do you no good, Veronica. It will only mean that I cannot +let you come to the studio at all." + +Veronica rose from the couch obediently and resumed her dressing. She +gave me somehow the impression she was satisfied at having broken down +my self-control, and hoped to win me over further by extreme docility. +I walked away to the window, angry with myself, and yet angry again +that that anger should be necessary. I had always been so free till +now, able to gratify the fancy of the moment. This need for +self-restraint was new and irritating. + +Veronica came up to me when she was dressed, and asked for a parting +kiss. I gave it, and she went away with a demure and sad little sigh. + +When I came down from the studio I went at once to our bedroom to +dress. We were dining early and going out after, and I knew I had not +much time. Viola was not there; she had dressed evidently and gone +down. Sometimes she would be sitting in the armchair at the foot of +the bed waiting for me, but to-night she had gone down. + +I walked about the room, quickly collecting my evening things and +thinking. Why did I, now that I had left Veronica, feel self-reproach +and regret at what had passed? What was a kiss? It was ridiculous to +think of it twice. + +I ran downstairs and found Viola as I had expected in the +drawing-room. In her white dinner-gown and with a few violet pansies +at her breast, she looked, I thought, particularly charming. She +smiled as I came in, but when I approached to kiss her as was usual +between us after the shortest absences, she got up, almost started up +and moved away from me. + +"Don't kiss me! I am so afraid you will crush my flowers." + +I stopped disconcerted; she coloured slightly and took a chair further +from me, I flung myself into one close to me. + +It was so unlike Viola to resist any advance of mine, and on such a +score, that it astonished me. Often and often I had hesitated when she +had been in some of her magnificent toilettes to clasp her to me for +fear of disturbing the wonderful creations, and had been laughingly +derided for so doing. + +"Your kiss is worth a dozen dresses," she would say, and crush me to +her in spite of whatever laces or jewels might lie between; and such +words had been very dear to me. + +This phrase now, usual with many women, unheard before from her, +struck me. The blood rushed to my head for a moment as the thought +came--she have seen or heard in any possible way the scene in the +studio? and then I dismissed it as quite impossible. It was +coincidence, merely that. She could know nothing. Then, staring away +from her into the little fire, I thought suddenly--"Is not this the +most despicable, the worst part of all infidelity, this deceit it +must bring with it? The lies, either spoken or tacit, to which it +gives birth?" + +There were only a few moments and then the bell called us to dinner. + +Viola was just as sweet and charming as usual through the meal and +after, both during the theatre party to which we went, and when we +were driving home together. + +The next morning when we were at breakfast alone she said in a very +earnest tone: + +"Trevor, you will be careful about that model of yours, won't you?" + +I raised my eyebrows. + +"How do you mean?" + +"Don't let her draw you into anything you don't really want to do. Be +a little on your guard with her. You know how detestable some women +can be. They try to make men compromise themselves, and then worry +them afterwards." + +"I should think I ought to be able to take care of myself," I replied. +Of course I was annoyed, and showed it. + +"Well," said Viola, getting up from the table, "it is difficult when a +girl is as beautiful as that and you are shut up for hours alone with +her. When do you think the picture will be finished?" + +"I don't know at all," I said, feeling more and more annoyed. "I +shall probably keep her on for another after it." + +This was a pure invention of my anger at the moment, for I had fully +resolved last night to get rid of Veronica and as soon as possible, +and never see her again; but I objected to what seemed to me +interference. + +Viola turned paler almost than the cloth before us. + +"Do you really wish to do so?" she asked. + +"Yes," I said coldly. "Have you any objection?" + +"Yes, I think it would be a great pity," she replied quietly. "You +will get so drawn to her, so interested in her, it will come between +us." + +I looked at her in amaze and anger. Was this all coincidence? It must +be. How could she possibly know what had occurred? + +We are nearly all of us beasts to women when they appeal to us. Had +the position been reversed and had I been speaking to Viola as she was +to me, she would have been all sweetness, accepting my jealous anxiety +as a compliment, recognising how sure a sign of passion it is. + +"All this seems very childish and silly," I answered. "Veronica is +nothing to me but a model and will never be anything than that. I +shall keep her as long as I want her, and dismiss her when I choose. I +don't want to discuss the matter again with you." + +Viola waited till I had finished speaking, then when I ceased, she +inclined her head and went out, shutting the door noiselessly behind +her. + +In that moment even of anger against her, a great throb of admiration +beat through me. Her attitude as she waited by the door, one hand +clasping the handle, her face turned towards me, was so perfect, the +acquiescence so graceful and dignified; but it was only for a moment, +the anger closed over the impulse of love again, and I walked up and +down the room full of resentment. + +"Why should one," I muttered, "just because one loves one woman, never +be supposed to kiss another, why should there be all this hateful, +jealous tyranny? It is better to be free, as one is as a bachelor, and +do what one likes, just take everything as it comes along." + +Then it recurred to me suddenly that I was not married, not tied in +any way, I was free, and the remembrance came, too, why it was +so--that Viola herself had refused to take my freedom from me. + +"Then when I use it to amuse myself for an hour or two this is the +result," I thought stormily, trying to keep angry with Viola. "It's as +bad as being married." + +I tried to feel Viola was quite in the wrong, a tiresome, +unreasonable, jealous person; but irresistibly my thoughts modified +themselves, sobered by that sudden recollection that I was not bound +to her nor she to me. Perhaps I should not have to complain of her +tyranny very long. Waves of memory rolled over me against my will, +memories of the wonderful passion that existed between us, something +that went down to the roots of my being, that shook me to the very +depths, as different as the day from the night from my passing fancy +for Veronica's beauty. My mind went back to the first night at the +studio; I had never felt anything for any other woman that could +approach my feelings for her. She was so different from all the +others. I had known a good many, and they all seemed very much alike, +but Viola stood alone amongst them. + +After a few minutes' more reflection, I went to look for her. I +thought I would try to soften the effect of my last words to her, but +I could not find her, and full of a sense of dissatisfaction, I went +on at last upstairs to the studio. + +When Veronica came into the room I realised the full extent of my +folly the previous afternoon. Hitherto her manner had been respectful +and demure enough on the surface, though always with a suggestion of +veiled insolent self-confidence. Now the veil was thrown off, she was +assured of herself, and showed it. + +She came up to me, kissed me as a matter of course, and when I barely +returned the kiss, she laughed openly and said coolly. + +"What's the matter, Trevor? Viola been lecturing you?" + +To hear her use Viola's name seemed to freeze me. + +"Be quiet," I said sharply. + +The girl merely made a grimace and began to take off her hat and let +down her hair. + +The morning passed dully. I did not paint well. The impersonal state +of mind in which alone good artistic work can be produced was not with +me. + +When I went down to luncheon I found Viola looking very pale and ill. +This made me feel cross. Ill-health very rarely excites pity or +sympathy in men, but nearly always a feeling of vexation and +annoyance. "Why should she worry herself?" I asked myself angrily, +"when there was nothing to worry about." + +She had generally a very warm pink colour glowing in her face, which +disappeared if anything worried or grieved her. It was gone now, and I +knew it was my words of the morning that had driven it away. + +"I looked for you this morning before I went up to paint," I said; +"but couldn't find you." + +"I am so sorry," she answered with a quick smile. "What did you want +me for?" + +"To tell you you needn't worry about Veronica. She is absolutely +nothing to me." + +"Then, if she is, why will you not send her away, or at least when the +'Bacchante' is finished?" + +"Because I don't see any necessity," I answered. "Besides, if I get +any other model you would feel the same, wouldn't you, about her?" + +"Any model you kissed and desired. Yes, certainly." + +We were both standing now facing each other. Viola was deadly pale, as +she always became in any conflict with me. + +I stood silent for a moment. + +I could not understand how she knew and could speak so definitely, but +I could not lie and deny it, so I said nothing. + +"Do you mean that I am never to kiss another woman as long as I live?" +I asked, a shade of derision coming into my voice. + +"No, only as long as we are what we are to each other." + +A chill fell upon me. I could not think of a time when she would not +be with me, could not face the idea of change. + +The light fell across her very bright and waving hair, and caught the +tips of her eyelashes and fell all round her exquisite, girlish +figure, full of that wonderful grace I had never seen in any other. + +"It is a pity to make your love, which otherwise would be such a +divine pleasure, a thing of restraint and fetters," I said slowly. + +"But it is a mutual obligation in love," she said in a very low tone. +"It must be so. You would not wish me to kiss any of the men who come +here, would you? They often ask me to." + +Her words gave me suddenly such a sense of surprise and shock, it was +almost as if she had struck me in the eyes. + +"_No_," I said involuntarily, the instinct within me speaking without +thought. + +"Well, that is what I say," answered Viola gently. "A great passion +has its fetters. I don't see how it can be helped. You can have the +promiscuous loves of all the women you meet, or you can have the +absolute devotion of one; but I don't see how you can have the two." + +My heart beat, and the blood seemed going up to my head, confusing my +reason. I felt angry because I knew she was right. + +"Well, really it seems that the first might be better if one's life is +to be so limited." + +Viola did not answer at all. I turned and walked towards the window +and stood looking out for a few minutes. When I turned round the room +was empty. + +I went up to the studio, but again I could not paint. The pale, +unhappy face of Viola came between me and the picture. + +To Veronica I hardly spoke. Her beauty neither attracted nor even +pleased me. She was the cause of all this vague cloud rising up in my +life, which had hitherto been intensely happy and allowed me to do +the very best in my art. + +Her efforts to attract me and to draw me from my work only annoyed and +irritated me, and when I went down to tea I told her to go, that I +should not paint afterwards. + +No one happened to be calling that afternoon, so Viola and I were +alone. There was hardly any constraint between us even after what had +passed at luncheon. We were so much one, so intimate, mentally as well +as physically, that we could not quarrel with each other any more than +one can quarrel with oneself. One can be cross with oneself +occasionally, but not for long. + +We neither of us referred to Veronica or anything disagreeable, but +gave ourselves up to the joy of each other's society. When I told her +I was not going back to paint she was delighted, and we planned to +dine early and go to the Empire after. + +The ballet seemed to amuse her, and when we returned and went up to +our room she was in the lightest and gayest of spirits. This room was +the only one in the house in the furnishing of which Viola had taken +the slightest interest. In all the others she had allowed things to +stand just as we found them, just as our landlord had thought good to +leave them, but in this one much had been added to the contents +written down in the inventory and so much altered that our landlord +would indeed have been astonished if he had suddenly looked in. The +bed was a triumph of artistic skill, designed and arranged under her +own directions, the curtains enclosing it were delicate in colouring +and so soft in fabric that the bed seemed enveloped in a mass of blue +clouds, gold-lined, and all the sheets and clothing were filmy and +lace-edged, and must have been the despair of the steam laundry; a +blue silk covering, the colour of her own eyes, and embroidered with +pale pink roses, gold-centred, reposed on it, matching the curtains, +and an electric lamp shaded in rose colour depended from the French +crown above the head; a lamp which flooded the bed with light when all +the curtains were drawn and shut out the lights of the room. The +carpet was blue also, and the heavy curtains over all the windows +matched it, edged with, and embroidered in gold. + +The toilet-table, though simple enough in its arrangements, for Viola +needed no cosmetics, no lotions, no manicure nor other evil +inventions, was always a lovely object. On its pale rose covering lay +her gold-backed brushes and comb, her gold hand-mirror with cupids +playing on it, her little gold boxes of pins, and always vases of +fresh geraniums, white and rose-pink. Out of the room at one side +opened a smaller one, it was not used as a chapel nor yet as a +dressing-room. We dressed together and took pleasure in so doing, as +we did in everything that threw us into intimate companionship. We had +no need of dressing-rooms since there were no teeth to come in and +out, no wigs to be taken off and put on, no secrets on either side to +be jealously guarded from one another. No, the room opening out of +ours was a supper-room, where, when we came back late from opera or +theatre, we could always count on finding cold supper and champagne. I +went in to-night and turned on all the lights, which were many, while +Viola laid aside her dress and slipped into a dressing-gown, something +as fragile and beautiful as a rose-leaf, suiting her delicate, elusive +beauty. She followed me into the little supper-room, and as I turned +and saw her on the threshold, the delicacy of the whole vision struck +me. A pain shot into my heart suddenly. Supposing I ever lost her? Saw +her fade from me? + +Her eyes were wide-open and laughing, a faint colour glowed in the +white transparent skin, the lips were a light scarlet, parted now from +the milky teeth. + +I made two steps forwards and caught her and crushed her up tightly to +my breast and kissed her and made her sit on my knee while I poured +out some champagne. + +"Now drink that," I commanded; "you look as if you needed something +material. You look like a vision that may vanish from me into thin +air." + +Viola laughed and drank the wine. + +"Trevor," she said reflectively, as if following up some train of +thought she had been pursuing already a long time. "What heaps of +wonderfully beautiful girls and women we saw to-night. Wouldn't you +like some of them?" + +I laughed. + +"Some of them! Supposing you send me up a dozen or two?" + +"No, but really I was thinking as I sat there to-night, how pretty +they were, and how varied. I can quite understand how a man would like +to try them all." + +"You would object, I am afraid," I said gravely. "You object even to +Veronica." + +"I know. I don't think it's possible to do otherwise. I shouldn't love +you if I didn't. But if you gave me up you could have all these +others." + +"Well, you see, it is the other way; I have given them all up for +you." + +"I know, but is it wise for your own happiness? I thought about it a +great deal to-night." + +"Women like that can give one only the simple pleasure of the senses. +It is very much the same with them all; but with you there is some +extraordinary passion created in the brain as well as in the senses, +that makes it a different thing." + +"I am so glad," she murmured, leaning her arms on the table and +looking at me with eyes absorbed and abstracted. + +"There is no single thing in this world I would not do to give you +pleasure, to delight and satisfy you. I have never refused you +anything, have I?" + +"Never." + +And it was true. She never had refused me anything it was in her power +to give. Still she held something that was not yet mine; the inner +spirit of the Soul. + + * * * * * + +Days passed and things continued in the same way. I had not the +strength of mind to dismiss Veronica, to deprive myself of that +subtle, delicious pleasure that lay in her soft kisses, in the bloom +of her beauty, in her professed devotion to myself. The Bacchante was +not quite finished, so that gave me the outward excuse. The excuse I +put forward to myself was that Viola could not possibly know what I +felt for the girl nor what I did, and so it could not hurt her. + +Veronica made no secret of her wishes to tie me more closely to her +still. But, in spite of the clamour of the senses, there was something +within me or round me that held me irresistibly from this. + +All that I had done already I knew that Viola would forgive, even +though it grieved and distressed her. If I went further I did not +know that she would ever forgive, and that made an insurmountable +barrier that nothing Veronica could do or say could break down. + +The weeks slipped by and brought us to the date when Viola's operetta +was to be produced. On the evening which she had so looked forward to, +now it had come, she seemed tired and spiritless, and we dressed for +dinner almost in silence. Captain Lawton and another man who had +helped in the production of the piece were dining with us, and we were +then going on to our box at the theatre. + +At dinner Viola seemed to regain some of her old gay spirits, and the +light rose colour I loved crept back into her cheeks as she laughed +and talked with Lawton seated on her right hand. I had always thought +him a particularly handsome fellow, and to-night it struck me suddenly +what an extremely attractive man he must be in a woman's eyes. He was +dark and a little sunburnt from being in South Africa, and, combined +with really beautiful features and a fine figure, he had that dashing +grace of carriage, that unaffected simple manner of the soldier, which +even by itself has a charm of its own. + +I looked at Viola curiously, and wondered how she felt towards this +man who was so obviously in love with her. Whether it moved her at all +to see those dark eyes fill with fire as she smiled at him, to know +that the whole of this engaging personality was hers if she chose to +stretch out her hand and claim it. + +The dinner passed off well, thanks principally to the inexhaustible +tide of good spirits and fun that flowed from Lawton. We took a couple +of hansoms afterwards and arrived at the theatre in good time. + +The "Lily of Canton" went smoothly from beginning to end. The crowded +house laughed and applauded the whole time. In fact, the humour and +fun of Lawton's libretto were irresistible, and the beautiful airs +that Viola's fancy had woven in and out to carry the wit of Lawton's +sparkling lines enchanted the audience. + +At the end there were calls for both of them to appear before the +curtain, and Viola left the box with him, radiant and smiling. When +they both appeared on the stage the enthusiasm was unbounded. Viola +was in white, and her delicate, rose-like fairness delighted the +audience, and the women clapped Lawton with good-will. Handsome, easy, +dignified, graceful, and debonair as usual, he smiled and bowed his +acknowledgments over and over again beside Viola, into whose face came +the wrapt, glad look that her music always gave, replacing the +expression of pain she had worn now for so many weeks. + +I sat in our box watching her, with sore, jealous feelings rising up +like mists over the pride I had in my possession. As the whole scene +and her triumph stirred and roused my passion for her, some voice +seemed interrogating me--"Is she and her love not enough for you? Why +do you wear thin and fray the delicious tie between you?" + +They were both up again in the box beside me, directly surrounded by +congratulating friends; and then Lawton gathered together his party +and we all filed off in a stream of hansoms to the supper that he was +giving in Viola's honour. It was already daylight before we reached +home. + +The next evening I had to attend an artists' dinner. It was for men +only, so that Viola was not invited. I spent a very busy morning and +afternoon in the studio. The Bacchante was almost finished, and I had +made up my mind to dismiss Veronica as soon as I was sure I was +satisfied with the picture and did not need her again. Full of this +resolve, I was perhaps a little more careless than usual, less on my +guard, and when at the end Veronica came to kiss me, I returned her +caress with more warmth than I was accustomed to do. It did not really +matter, I thought; the girl would be gone in a day or two and I should +have no more to do with her. + +Feeling rather pleased with myself for having taken the decided +resolution to dismiss her in order to please Viola I went downstairs, +and was rather vexed when I met her to see her looking particularly +white and ill. She had seemed fairly well at luncheon, and I could not +shake off the extraordinary idea that my conduct with Veronica through +the afternoon was in some way connected with her pallor and expression +now. + +I had it on my lips to say--"I have decided to dismiss the model," +when that feeling of irritation against her for looking so wretched +came uppermost and held the words back. + +If she couldn't trust me and would worry about things when I told her +not to, she might worry and I would let her alone. + +It really always hurt and alarmed me so much to see Viola look ill or +delicate that it made me angry with her, instead of extra considerate +and kind as I should have been. + +She came upstairs to be with me while I dressed, and sat in the +armchair at the foot of the bed. + +I asked her if she had a headache, and she said, "No." + +"What did you do all this afternoon?" I asked. "Did any one come in to +tea?" + +"No, nobody came. I was lying on a sofa in the drawing-room most of +the time, thinking. I didn't feel able to do anything." + +I did not ask her what she had been thinking about, but went on +dressing in silence. + +Before I left I kissed her, but it was rather a cold kiss, as I felt +she ought to be happy and pink-cheeked as a result of my good +intentions--unreasonably enough, since I had not told her of them. + +She accepted it, but seemed to hesitate as if she wished to say +something to me. I saw her grow paler and her lips quiver. She did not +speak, however, and so in rather a strained silence we parted and I +went downstairs. + +How I regretted that coldness afterwards! How mad and blind one is +sometimes where one loves most! + +I did not enjoy the dinner at all because I could not deny to myself +that I had been unkind to her, with that tacit unkindness that is so +keenly felt and is so difficult to meet or combat. I left the hotel +where the dinner had been held quite early, and drove back to the +house, longing and impatient to be with her again, hold her in my +arms, and tell her all I had resolved and been thinking about, and +kiss the bright colour back into her face again. + +I let myself in with my latch-key and ran up the stairs into the +drawing-room. + +It was brightly lighted, but empty. I was just going to seek her +upstairs when a note set up before the clock on the mantelpiece caught +my eye. + +I crossed the room, took it up, tore it open, and ran my eyes +hurriedly down it, line after line. + + "_Dearest,_ + + "Our relations have entered upon a new phase lately. I suppose it + cannot be helped, it is merely the turning on of the wheel of + time. We cannot stay the wheel, still less turn it back. All we + can do is to adjust ourselves to the new position. + + "You have wished for your freedom. It is yours. I have never + wanted to take it away, but I feel I cannot go on dedicating my + life and every thought I have to you as I have done, if you wish + to share with others all that has been mine and all that I value + most in this or any world. I have tried, but it is beyond me. You + cannot think what I have suffered in these last weeks. I have + reasoned with myself, asked myself what did it matter what you did + when you were away from me, why should one rival now matter more + than those the past has held for me? I have argued, reasoned, + fought with myself, but it is useless. These unconquerable + instincts of jealousy have been placed in us and are as strong as + those other instincts of desire that excite them. + + "The life of the last few weeks is killing me. I am losing my + health, losing my power to work. It is the concentration of all my + thoughts upon you that is maddening, impossible now that you no + longer belong to me. Even your presence, once the sun of my + existence, is painful to me now; and when you come straight from + another woman to kiss me, it is agony. I cannot bear it. + + "You thought I did not know all the kisses and caresses you have + given Veronica. Dear Trevor, a woman always knows--perhaps a man + does, too. Certainly I knew. One does not have to see or hear; + there is a sense, not yet discovered, that is above all the + others, that tells us these things. When you came from her to me + you brought with you an influence that killed. Perhaps it was that + you were surrounded with an electricity from her that was hostile + to my own. + + "I have felt lately a longing to be away from you, a longing to + escape from pain and torture, but the music keeps me in town, and + we cannot well separate here without a scandal, which I know you + would not wish. So I am going to try and escape mentally from you, + though our bodies must occupy the same house for a little while + longer. + + "I am going to try to interest myself in others, not to think of + you, not to care for you as I have done. We have both been foolish + perhaps, as you say, in limiting our lives to each other, let us + end the idea between us. Let us be like ordinary married people. + You are free to choose whatever paths of pleasure open before you, + I am the same. To-night when you come back you will find this + letter instead of me. I shall dine out with one of these men who + want me and afterwards spend the evening with him. I will come + back early enough to cause no comment, but I will not come to your + room, as I do not suppose you will want me. I have had another + room put ready, and I shall go there. + + "Good-bye, dearest one; if you could know all the agony that has + gone before this breaking of the tie between us! Now I seem to + feel nothing; I am dead. I can't cry; can't think any more. + + "VIOLA." + + * * * * * + +I read this letter through with an agonised terror coming over me, +that gripped and wrung my heart, through the cloud of amaze that +filled me. Towards the end the words seemed to stab me. As I came to +the conclusion the truth broke upon me in a blinding, lightning flash. +_I_ had lost her. But it was incredible, unthinkable. She was part of +my life, part of myself. I still lived; therefore, she was mine. I +felt paralysed. I could not grasp fully what she had said, what she +intended me to understand. It was as when one is told a loved one is +dead. It means nothing to us for a moment. Reason goes down under a +flood of sickening fear. I read the last page over again. + +Then I sprang to my feet and stared round the empty room as if seeking +an explanation from it. It offered none. All round me was orderly, +placid. Only within me burned a hell, lighted by those written words. +It was very quiet, only an occasional drip of the June rain outside +broke the stillness. + +An exquisite picture of Viola laughed joyously back at me from a +little table covered with vases of white flowers, white as she had +been that first night at the studio.... + +O God in heaven, what _had_ I done to bring this ruin into my own +life? _Had_ I deserved it? Had I? I thought wildly. + +What had I done? What did it all mean? Veronica? A few kisses? the +impulse of passion? It was nothing, everything was nothing to me +beside Viola. She must have known that. Then I recalled her appeals to +me. She had asked me to give up Veronica, why had I not done so? +Instead, how had I met Viola; how had I answered her? My own words +were hurled back upon me by memory and fell upon me like blows, so had +they fallen upon her. How could I have been so mad, so blind? + +Her favourite chair was pushed a little from the fire; by its side I +noticed something white, and stooped mechanically to pick it up. It +was her handkerchief, crushed together and soaked through and through. +How she must have been crying to wet it like that! At the corner it +was marked with blood, as if she had pressed it to bitten lips. + +My own eyes filled with scorching tears as I looked at it. + +It was the one sign of the passion and agony that had raged in that +room before I came back. + +If I had only returned sooner! I put the handkerchief in my breast, +and took up her letter again. Could I do anything, anything now to +follow, to recall her? + +I looked at the clock, and ice seemed to close round my heart and +chill it. It was already eleven. Then the phrase about the other room +struck me. Could she have possibly returned? I opened the door and +went upstairs and through all the rooms in the house. All were empty. +I saw the bedroom farthest from mine had been put ready for occupancy, +and some few trifles of her own taken from our room and put into it. +Then I came back, sick with apprehension, to the drawing-room again, +questioning what I could do. + +To whom would she have gone? As the thought came all the blood in my +body seemed to seethe and rage, but the question had to be faced. For +a moment no definite idea would form itself. Then the recollection of +Lawton dashed in upon me. The man's head seemed photographed suddenly +on all the pale walls round me; handsome, brilliant, engaging, well +born, and well bred, he was the man of all others surely to attract +her. + +She would go to him, they would dine together, she would return to +his chambers with him.... She had not come back yet. + +For a few moments I was mad. I laid my hand on the back of the chair +near me, and it was smashed in my grip. Then the madness passed over, +and I could think again. I went upstairs, took out my revolver, and +loaded it. I thought I would go round to Lawton's place, ... but, when +coming downstairs again, the thought struck me--Suppose it was not +Lawton? What would the latter think of my sudden appearance, my +enquiries? Twelve had now struck. + +There was just a possibility that she would not fulfil her letter, +that she would come back to me; but if I by my actions to-night +brought any publicity on what she had done, I should make an injury +where none existed. + +I thought for some time over this, and it seemed impossible for me to +do anything but wait for her return--wait till I knew. + +The thought of her name, her reputation, and how I might possibly +injure them now held me there motionless. + +It seemed incredible that she could be so long away and yet her +absence mean nothing. But the other supposition, the thought of her +passing from me, seemed more incredible still. + +I know how great her love for me was, and love like ours is not +easily swept aside and its claims broken down. Still, in a paroxysm of +jealous agony and resentment against me, all might be obscured, and if +Lawton were there persuading.... + +And this, something of this pain, I now felt, she had suffered, as the +soaked handkerchief told me. + +How I loathed the thought of Veronica! Love, even when it has expired, +leaves some tenderness of feeling to us; passion once dead leaves +nothing but loathing. + +I got up and wrote a few lines of dismissal. It was something to do, +something to distract my devouring thoughts. I enclosed a cheque for +all, and more than the sum due to her. Then I flung the letter on the +table, and pushed the thought of her out of my mind. + +I paced up and down the room, looking constantly at the clock. What +were these fleeting moments taking from me? My brain seemed on fire +and full of light. Picture after picture rose before me, vivid, +brilliant--all pictures of Viola and hours passed with her. What a +wonderful personality she had, and I alone had possessed it. How +utterly and entirely she had given herself to me, me alone of all the +many who coveted her. I had been the first, the only one for her, till +my own hand had foolishly cut the ties that bound us together. If I +lost her, suppose I gained everything else in the world, would it +content me? Could I lose her? Could I let her go? But I _had. I_ +glanced at the clock. It was now one. She had not returned. By this +time she had passed from me to another. The pain, the acute pain of +it, of this thought seemed to divide my brain like a two-edged sword. +What had I done? + +Why had I not realised that I should feel like this? To have and then +to lose while one still desires, this is the most horrible pain in the +world. The animals feel it to the point of madness, and they are wise, +they do not court it. They will tear their rival, even the female +herself, in pieces rather than yield her up. But I! What had I done? A +mate had nestled to my breast, and I had not been wise enough to hold +it there. And now I suffered; how I suffered! My brain seemed to +writhe in those moments of agony like a body on the rack or in the +flames. Each thought was a torture: sweet recollections came to me +like the breath of flowers, only to turn into a fresh agony of +despair. + +There is no pain so absolutely black in its hideous agony as jealousy. +The other mental pains of this life may last longer, but there is none +that cuts down deeper, that possesses such a ravening tooth, while it +lasts, as this. + +The vision of Lawton's face was like a brand upon my brain. I saw it +everywhere, as it had looked when she smiled upon him at dinner. + +Suddenly, as I paced backwards and forwards, I heard a little noise +outside, a light footfall on the stairs or landing. I stood still, my +heart seeming to knock about inside my chest as if it wanted to leap +out between the ribs. Then I went to the door and threw it wide open. +She stood there just outside. The light from within fell upon her, and +my eyes ran over her, questioning, devouring, while waves of hope and +terror seemed dashing up against my brain like the surf over a rock. + +She looked collected, mistress of herself, her dress and hair were +perfect in arrangement as when she had started, on her face was a +curious look of gladness, of relief, of decision, of triumph. What was +its meaning? + +I took both her hands and drew her over the threshold. She came +gladly. She must have seen the agony of fear, of questioning in my +face, for after a swift look up at me she said impulsively: + +"I am so glad to be back with you, Trevor." + +I could not answer her. I stood silent. The sick fatigue of hours of +painful emotion was creeping over me, and the agony of longing to know +everything from her lips seemed to paralyse me. + +"I could not, after all, dearest," she said, in a very low tone. "I +could not do anything on my side to sever myself from you, so I have +come back to you." + +Her voice seemed to come to me from a long distance, but every word +was clear and distinct. The relief of the loosening of the pressure of +one hideous idea was intense. I took a chair beside her and put my arm +round her shoulders. + +"Tell me what has happened, then, since you left me." + +She was drawing off her gloves slowly; the flesh of the fingers and +wrist was slightly indented from long pressure of the kid. I saw that +her glove had not been removed for several hours. A great tide of +pleasure and relief broke slowly over me. + +"Well, I went straight from here to Lawton's chambers, and he was out; +so I sat down in one of his easy chairs by the fire to wait for him. I +sat and sat there, looking into the fire, and somehow I forgot all +about Lawton and began thinking about you and the pictures and your +wonderful voice and all the delightful times we had had together; and +then I thought of all I had always tried to do for you, and how you +were the first, the very first man I had ever cared for or done +anything for, and how I had always belonged to you; and it seemed a +pity to spoil it all--if you understand. I felt I could not with my +own hands pull down the beautiful fabric of my love for you that I had +built up. I felt I could not give myself to any one else, there seemed +something irresistible holding me from it. You must do what you like, +be faithful or not to me, but I must be faithful to you." + +She threw back her head and looked at me. Her elusive loveliness, +lying all in colour and bloom and light, was at its height. She was +intensely excited, and the excitement paled the skin, widened the +lustrous eyes, heightened the extreme delicacy of the face. I bent +over her and kissed her as I had never done yet; it was one of those +moments in life when the soul seems to have wings and fly upwards. + +After a moment. + +"And then," I said, "did you come back to me?" + +"Well, gradually, as I sat there, a horror of Lawton, of everything +came over me. I did not know how long I had sat there. I looked at my +watch: it was two. I was terrified. I only wanted to escape. I got up +to go, and just then I heard Lawton coming in. There was a screen near +me, and it did just occur to me I might conceal myself and pass out as +he went to the inner room; but I did not like the idea of hiding in +any one's rooms, so I stood still, and he came in." + +She was silent, and I felt suddenly plunged back into a mist of +questioning horror. What had passed between these two? Had any links +in some new chain been forged? + +But she was mine! Mine! and I would never let her go. + +"What did you say?" I asked her. My throat was so dry the words were +hardly more than a whisper. + +"He started of course on seeing me, and then rushed forwards and +said, 'Darling,' or something of that sort. I hardly heard what he +said. I said simply: 'I was just going when you came in. I can't +stay.' Then, of course, he asked me why I had come and all that and, +oh, heaps and heaps of things. You know all the usual things a man +does say, and I answered if he really cared for me he would let me go +at once. Then he walked to the door, shut and locked it, and put the +key in his pocket." + +She paused, and I looked away from her. I was in such a passion of +rage against the man, and almost also with her for putting herself in +such a position, I did not care for her to see my eyes. + +"Go on," I said; "what did you do?" + +"I asked him why he had locked the door, and he said to prevent my +going until I had told him why I had come. I said I had changed my +mind in the hours I had sat there, and he answered: 'Well, you will +change it again if you stay here some more hours,' and he came and sat +on the chair arm beside me. You see, Trevor, it wasn't his fault a +bit, for he guessed I had come with all sorts of nice feelings for +him, and he felt it was only his part, as it were, to play up to the +situation, that it would be impossible to do anything but seem to wish +to keep me when I had come." + +"Don't trouble to tell me all that," I said angrily; "I know what +Lawton feels for you. I know he is wild about you. I wonder you are +not murdered. Go on, what did he do?" + +"He was awfully good and nice. He tried for an hour to persuade me. He +wanted to kiss me, of course. I said I was in his power, but that he +would kill me before I would kiss him voluntarily. I think that +convinced him, for he walked straight to the door and unlocked it and +threw it open. Then he said he couldn't let me go into the streets at +that hour alone, and so he came with me. He walked all the way here +and left me at this door. That's all." + +There was silence. Such a tremendous upheaval of emotions and feelings +seemed surging within me I could not speak. My voice seemed dried dead +in my throat. No words came before my mind that I could use. + +Dawn was creeping slowly into the room. The hideous black night was +over. Pale light, very soft and grey, but overpowering, was stealing +in, mingling with the electric gold glare it was so soon to kill. It +seemed to me like that mysterious, impalpable spirit we call love that +is overpowering, dominant over everything, before which the false +glare of the fires of sense pale into nothingness. + +"Trevor," she said at last, breaking the silence of the pale, misty +room, "are you glad I decided as I did? You must do just what you +like; I only felt I could not do anything against you." + +I turned and drew her wholly into my arms, and at that warm, living +contact my voice came back to me. + +"You are my life, my soul, and you ask if I am glad you've come back +to me? There is nothing in the world for me really but you. Everything +else is dust and ashes, that can be swept away by the lightest +transient wind. You are the very life in my veins, and you must be +mine always, as you have been from the very first." + +I pressed my lips down on hers with all the force of that fury of +triumph which rose within me. I did not want her answer. I merely +wanted to force my words between her lips, to drive them home to her +heart. She was my regained possession, and the joy of it was like +madness. She put her arms round my neck and lay quite still and +passive, close pressed against my heart, and our souls seemed to meet +and hold communion with each other and there was no need of any more +words. + + + + +PART FOUR + +THE CRIMSON NIGHT + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +LOSS + + +We had left town and come down to the country. Viola had not seemed +quite so well in the last three months since the night of our +reconciliation, and even here in the country she did not seem to +regain her colour and her usual spirits. + +She declared, however, there was nothing the matter with her, and we +had been intensely happy. + +One morning when we came down to our rather late breakfast I found a +long, thin, curiously addressed letter lying by my plate. + +Viola took it up laughingly, and then I saw her suddenly turn pale, +and she laid it back on the table as if the touch of it hurt her. + +"Oh, Trevor, that is a letter from Suzee! I am sure it is! Why should +it come now, just when we are so happy?" + +I looked at her in surprise, and took up the letter to cut it open. + +"What makes you think it comes from her?" I asked; "it is not at all +likely." + +"I know it does," she said simply; "I feel it." + +I laughed and opened the letter, not in the least believing she would +be right. The first line, however, my eye fell upon shewed me it was +from Suzee. The queer, stiff, upright characters suggested Chinese +writing, and the first words could be hers alone: + + "Dear Mister Treevor, + + "Do you remember me? I am in awful trouble. Husband died and also + baby. I sent here to be sold for slave to rich Chinaman. Please + you buy me. Send my price 500 dollars to Mrs. Hackett, address as + per above. + + "Dear Treevor, dear Treevor, do come to me. You remember the wood? + + "I am yours not sold yet, + + "SUZEE." + +I read this through with a feeling of amaze. Suzee had for so long +been a forgotten quantity to me, something left in the past of the +Alaskan trip, like the stars of the North, that her memory, thrown +back suddenly on me like this, startled me. + +I handed the letter to Viola in silence. She read it through, and then +pushed it away from her. + +"I told you so. There is no peace in this world!" + +"But it needn't affect us, dearest," I said. "Suzee is nothing to me +now. I don't want her. There is nothing to distress you." + +"But you'll have to do something about it, I suppose," returned Viola +gloomily. She was making the tea, and I saw her hands shook. + +"I believe you would like to go. It would be a new experience for you. +You would go if that letter came to you when you were living as a +bachelor, wouldn't you?" + +"Possibly I might. But then, of course, when one is free it is +different. Everything is different." + +"Free!" murmured Viola, her eyes filling. "I hate to think I am tying +you." + +"It is not that," I said gently; "one does not want to do the same +things, nor care about them." + +"You wanted Veronica and didn't have her on my account, I am not going +to prevent you doing this. You must go if you want to." + +She threw herself into the easy chair with her handkerchief pressed to +her mouth. The tears welled up to her eyes and poured down her white +face uncontrollably. + +"Dearest, dear little girl," I said, drawing her into my arms, "you +are upsetting yourself for nothing. I don't want to go, I shan't think +of going. I am perfectly happy; you are everything to me." + +She leant her soft head against me in silence, sobbing for some +seconds. + +"Come and have breakfast," I said, stroking her hair gently, "and +don't let us think anything more about it. If fifty Suzees were +calling me I should not want to go." + +Viola dried her eyes and came to the table in silence. We had other +letters to open, and we discussed these, and no further reference was +made to Suzee then. + +Viola looked white and abstracted all day, but it was not till after +dinner, when we were taking our coffee on the verandah, that she gave +me any clew to her thoughts. Then she said suddenly: + +"Trevor, I want you to let me go away from you for a year." + +I gazed at her in astonishment. She looked very wretched. All the +usual bright colour of her face had fled. Her eyes were large, with +the pupils widely dilated in them. There was a determined, fixed +expression on the pale lips that frightened me. + +"Why?" I said, merely drawing my chair close to hers and putting my +arm round her shoulders. + +"That is just what I can't tell you," she answered. "Not now. When I +come back I will tell you, but I don't want to now. But I have a good +reason, one which you will understand when you know it. But do just +let me go now as I wish, without questions. I have thought it over so +much, and I am sure I am doing the right thing." + +"You have thought it over?" I repeated in surprise. "Since when? +Since this morning, do you mean?" + +"No, long before that. Suzee's letter has only decided me to speak +now. I have been meaning to ask you to let me go for some time, only I +put it off because I thought you would dislike it so and would feel +dull without me. But now, if you let me leave you, you can go to Suzee +for a time, and she will amuse and occupy you, and if you want me at +the end of the year I will come back." + +The blood surged up to my head as I listened. How could she +deliberately suggest such things? + +Did she really care for me or value our love at all? + +In any case, for no reason on earth would I let her go. + +"No, I shall not, certainly not, consent to anything so foolish," I +said coldly; "I can't think how you can suggest or think such a thing +is possible." + +Viola was silent for a moment. Then she said: + +"When I come back I would tell you everything, and you would see I was +right." + +"I don't know that you ever would come back," I said, with sudden +irrepressible anger. + +"If you go away I might want you to stay away. You talk as if our +emotions and passions were mere blocks of wood we could take up and +lay down as we pleased, put away in a box for a time, and then bring +them out again to play with. It's absurd. You talk of going away and +driving me to another woman, and then my coming back to you, as if it +was just a simple matter of our own will. Once we separate and allow +our lives to become entangled with other lives we cannot say what will +happen. We might never come together again." + +Viola inclined her head. + +"I know," she said in a low tone. "I have thought of all that. But if +I stay there will be a separation all the same, and perhaps something +worse." + +"What do you mean by a separation?" I demanded hotly. + +"Well, I cannot respond to you any more as I used. I must have rest +for a time," she answered in a low tone. + +I looked at her closely, and it struck me again how delicate she +looked. She was thinner, too, than she had been. Her delicate, almost +transparent hand shook as it rested on the chair arm. + +The colour rushed burning to my face as I leant over her. + +"But, darling girl, if you want more rest you have only to say so. +Perhaps I have been thoughtless and selfish. If so, we must alter +things. But there is no need to separate, to go away from me for +that." + +"No, I know," returned Viola in a very tender tone; "I should not for +that alone. You are always most good. It is not that only. There are +other reasons why I would rather be away from you until we can live +together again as we have done." + +"And you propose to go away, and suggest my living with another woman +till you come back?" I said incredulously; dismay and apprehension and +anger all struggling together within me for expression. + +"Would it be more reasonable of me to expect to leave you and you to +wait absolutely faithful to me till I came back?" she asked, looking +at me with a slow, sad smile, the saddest look I had ever seen, I +thought, on a woman's face. I bent forwards and seized both little +hands in mine and kissed them many times over. + +"Of the two I would rather you did that. Yes," I said passionately. +"But there is no question of your going away; whatever happens, we'll +stick to each other. If you want rest you shall have it; if you are +ill I will nurse you and take care of you; but I shan't allow you to +go away from me." + +She put her arms round my neck. "Dear Trevor, if you would trust me +just this once, and let me go, it would be so much better." + +"No, I cannot consent to such an arrangement," I answered; "it's +absurd. I can't think what you have in your own mind, but I know +nothing would be a greater mistake than what you propose. The chances +are we should never come together again." + +There was silence for a moment, broken only by a heavy sigh from +Viola. + +"Won't you tell me everything you have in your own mind?" I said +persuasively. "I thought we never made mysteries with one another; it +seems to me you are acting just like a person in an old-fashioned +book. You can tell me anything, say anything you like, nothing will +alter my love for you, except deception--that might." + +"And you seem to think separation might," returned Viola sadly. + +"I don't think it's a question of separation altering my love for you, +but in separation sometimes things happen which prevent a reunion." + +Viola was silent. + +"Do tell me," I urged. "Tell me what you have in your mind. Why has +this cloud come up between us?" + +"You see," Viola said very gently, "there are some things, if you tell +a man, he is obliged to say and do certain things in return. If you +take the matter in your own hands you can do better for him than he +can do for himself." + +"It is something for me then?" I said smiling. "I am to gain by your +leaving me for a year?" + +"Yes, I think so," she answered doubtfully. "But principally it is for +myself. I know there is a great risk in going away, but I think a +greater one if I stay." + +I was silent, wondering what it could possibly be that she would not +tell me. Although she said she had formed the idea before Suzee's +letter came, I kept returning to that in my thoughts as the main +reason that must be influencing her. + +I waited, hoping if I did not press her she would perhaps begin to +confide in me of her own accord. But she sat quite silent, looking +intensely miserable and staring out into space before her. I felt a +vague sense of fear and anxiety growing up in me. + +"Dearest, do tell me what is the matter," I said, drawing her close up +to me and kissing her white lips. + +"Don't let us make ourselves miserable for nothing, like stupid people +one reads about. Life has everything in it for us. Let us be happy in +it and enjoy it." + +Viola burst into a storm of tears against my neck and sobbed in a +heart-breaking way for some minutes. + +"Is it that you have ceased to love me, that you feel your own passion +is over?" I asked gently. + +"No, certainly not that." + +"Is it that you think I want to, or ought to be free from you?" + +"No, not that." + +"Well, tell me what it is." + +"I can't. I think we shall be happy again, after the year, if you let +me come back to you." + +I felt my anger grow up again. + +"I am not going to let you leave me. I absolutely forbid it. Don't let +us talk about it any more or speak of it again unless you are ready to +tell me your reason." + +There was a long silence, broken only by her sobs. + +"Viola." + +"Yes." + +"Did you hear what I said?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, do not worry any more. You can't go, so it is settled. Nothing +can hurt us while we remain together." + +Viola did not say anything, but she ceased to cry and kissed me and +lay still in my arms. + +There was some minutes' silence, then I said: + +"Let's go up to bed. Sleep will do you good. You look tired and +exhausted to the last degree." + +We went upstairs, and that night she seemed to fall asleep in my arms +quickly and easily. I lay awake, as hour after hour passed, wondering +what this strange fancy could be that was torturing her. + +At last, between three and four in the morning, I fell asleep and did +not wake again till the clock struck nine on the little table beside +me. + +The sun was streaming into the room, and I sat up wide awake. The +place beside me was empty. I looked round the room. I was quite alone. +Remembering our conversation of last night and Viola's strange manner, +a vague apprehension came over me, and my heart beat nervously. It +was very unusual for Viola to be up first. She generally lay in bed +till the last moment, and always dissuaded me from getting up till I +insisted on doing so. I sprang up now and went over to the +toilet-table. On the back of her brushes lay a note addressed to me in +her handwriting. Before I took it up I felt instinctively she had left +me. For a moment I could not open it. My heart beat so violently that +it seemed impossible to breathe, a thick mist came over my eyes. I +took up the note and paced up and down the room for a few minutes +before I could open it. + +A suffocating feeling of anger against her raged through me. The sight +of the bed where she had so lately lain beside me filled me with a +resentful agony. She had gone from me while I slept. To me, in those +first blind moments of rage, it seemed like the most cruel treachery. + +After a minute I grew calm enough to tear open the note and read it. + + * * * * * + + "My very dearest one, + + "Forgive me. This is the first time I have disobeyed you in + anything in all the time we have been together And now [Greek: + baino. to gar chren mou te kai theon kratei....] + + "I must go from you, and you yourself will see in the future the + necessity that is ruling me now. Do not try to find me or follow + me, as I cannot return to you yet. Do believe in me and trust me + and let me return to you at the end of this miserable year which + stretches before me now a desert of ashes and which seems as if it + would never pass over, as if it would stretch into Eternity. But + my reason tells me that it will pass, and then I shall come back + to you and all my joy in life; for there is no joy anywhere in + this world for me except with you--if you will let me come back. + + "No one will know where I am. I shall see no one we know. Say what + you wish about me to the world. + + "Don't think I do not know how you will suffer at first; but you + would have suffered more if I had stayed. While I am away from + you, think of your life as entirely your own; do not hesitate to + go to Suzee, if you wish. I feel somehow that Fate has designed + you for me, not for her, and that she will not hold you for long, + but that, whatever happens, you will always remember + + "VIOLA." + + * * * * * + +I crushed this letter in my hand in a fury of rage when I had read it, +and threw it from me. Anger against her, red anger in which I could +have killed her, if I could in those moments have followed and found +her, swept over me. + +I looked round the room mechanically. She had dressed in the clothes +she had been wearing yesterday apparently, and taken one small +handbag, for I missed that from where it had stood on a chest of +drawers. + +Her other luggage was there undisturbed. I saw her evening and other +dresses hanging in the half-open wardrobe opposite me. + +The only thing that had gone from the toilet-table was the little +frame with my photo in it. + +A sickening sense of loss, of despair came over me, mingling with the +savage anger and hatred surging within me. + +After a time I rose from my chair and began to dress. + +I had made up my mind as to my own actions. To stay here without +Viola, where the whole place spoke to me of her, was impossible. As +soon as I could get everything packed I would go up to London and stay +at my club. She would not come back. + +No, it was no use my waiting with that hope. + +Her mad scheme, whatever it was, I felt was planted deeply, her +resolve fixed. It was true that three months before, after just such a +cruel letter, she had come suddenly back to me, having failed in her +resolution. I remembered that, and paused suddenly at the +recollection. But then that was different. Then, infidelity to me had +been in the question. Now I knew that wherever she was going it was +not to another lover. + +Whatever her foolish idea was, some benefit to me was mixed up with it +in her mind. + +And then, suddenly, in a tender rush of passionate reminiscence that +would not be denied, the knowledge came home to me that, whatever her +faults might be, however foolish and maddening her actions, no one had +ever loved me as she had done, as unselfishly, with the same +abandonment of self. + +The hot tears came scalding up under my lids. I picked up the little +crumpled sheet of paper I had so savagely crushed, smoothed it out, +folded it, and put it in my breast pocket. + +Then I turned to my packing. We had only taken rooms here. By paying I +was free to leave at any moment. + +Her things? What should I do with them? Keep them with me or send them +away to her bankers? + +I thought the latter, and turned to gather up her clothes and put them +in her portmanteau. My brain seemed bursting with a wild agony of +resentment as I took up first one thing and then another: the touch of +them seemed to burn me. Then, when I was half-way through a trunk; I +stopped short. Was I wise to accept the situation at all? Perhaps I +could follow her and find out, after all, what this mystery meant. + +We were in a small country place, but there was a fairly good service +of trains to town; one I knew left in the morning at seven, she might +have taken that. I could go to the station and find out. + +Filled suddenly with that heart-rending longing for the sight and +touch of the loved one again that is so unendurable in the first hours +of separation, I thought I would do that, and I left the half-filled +trunk and went downstairs to the hall. + +The two maids were standing there waiting, and they stared at me as I +passed and put on my hat. + +"Please, sir, are you ready for breakfast? It's gone half-past ten." + +"No," I said shortly. "I am going out first." + +"Will Mrs. Lonsdale be coming down, sir?" + +I stopped short. + +"No, Mrs. Lonsdale has gone out already," I answered, and went on +through the door. + +I didn't care what they thought. When one is in great pain, physical +or mental, nothing seems to matter except that pain. + +I walked fast to the station, about a mile distant, and made enquiries +as discreetly as I could. + +"No," was the unanimous answer. Mrs. Lonsdale had certainly not left +there by any train that morning, nor been there at all, nor hired a +fly from there. They were all quite sure of that. + +She was well known at the station, so it seemed improbable she could +have been there unobserved. + +There was another station up the line six miles distant. She might +easily have walked to that to avoid notice. + +I took a fly, and drove to the other station, but here Viola was not +known personally, and though I described her, and was assured she had +not been seen there, it was indefinite and uncertain information that +settled nothing. + +She might have gone from there to town by an early train unnoticed, or +she might have gone down the line to another country place to elude +me. I could tell nothing. + +Feeling sick and dispirited, I drove back to the station and then +walked on to the house. + +When I went upstairs the room was in disorder just as I had left it. +As I entered the bed caught my eye, the pillow her head had so lately +crushed, and there beside it the delicate garment she had been wearing +a few hours ago. + +An immense, a devastating sense of loss came over me. A feeling of +suffering so intense and so vast, it seemed to crush me beneath it +physically as well as mentally. + +I sank down in the armchair, laid my head back and closed my eyes. I +ceased to think any more, I was unconscious of anything except that +sense of intense suffering. + +By that evening I had everything packed, all the bills paid; and I +took the seven-o'clock train to town. I felt to stay there the night, +to attempt to sleep in that room so full of memories of her was an +impossibility. Something that would drive me mad if I attempted it. + +The people of the house stared at me when I paid them, and the maids +looked frightened when I addressed them, but I hardly saw them, doing +what was necessary in a mechanical way, with all my senses turned +inward, as it were, and blunted by that one overpowering idea of loss. + +The two hours in a fast train did me good. I had a sort of +subconscious feeling I was going to her by going to town which buoyed +me up instinctively; but the reaction was terrible when I actually +arrived and drove to some rooms I knew in Jermyn Street and realised +that I was indeed alone. + +I sat up all that night, feeling my brain alight and blazing with a +fire of agony and pain. Sleep was out of the question. A man does not +love a woman as I loved Viola and sleep the night after she has left +him. + +The next morning I went to her bankers, only to get just the answers I +had expected. + +Yes, Mrs. Lonsdale had communicated with them. She was abroad, and +they had her address but were not at liberty to disclose it. They +would forward all letters to her immediately. + +I went straight back to my rooms and wrote to her. I poured out my +whole heart in the letter, imploring her to come to me; yet every line +I wrote I knew was useless, useless. + +Still I could not rest nor exist till I had written it, and when it +was posted I felt a certain solace. + +I walked on to my club afterwards, and amongst other letters found +another from Suzee. + +I could not imagine how she had obtained my club address at all, +unless it was in that night when she came to my cabin. She would be +quite capable of searching for anything she wanted and taking away +some of my letters to obtain and keep my address. + +I did not open it at once. I felt a sort of anger with Suzee as being +partly responsible for all I was going through. Whatever Viola might +say, Suzee's letter had seemed to bring her mad resolve to a climax. + +I took some lunch at the club, and a man I knew came up and spoke to +me. + +"Up in town again, I see," he began, to which I assented. + +"How's Mrs. Lonsdale?" + +"Quite well, thank you," I replied. + +"Is she up with you?" + +"No." + +"Coming up soon, I suppose?" + +"I don't know." + +My friend looked at me once or twice, and then after a few vacuous +remarks went away. + +I knew that in a few hours it would be all over the club that I and +Viola no longer hit it off together, that in fact we were living +apart, and by the evening a decree _nisi_ would have been pronounced +for us. But I didn't care what they said. Nothing mattered. No one +could hurt me more than I was hurt already. The worst had happened. + +As I sat there I saw Lawton, who also belonged to the club, cross the +end of the dining-room. He, too, would come up and speak to me if he +caught sight of me. + +I felt I did not wish to speak to the man who had always loved Viola, +who had always envied me her possession, and to whom once I had nearly +lost her. + +I got up and left the club, went back to my rooms, and there got out +my letters to read. + +After all, I thought, as I took up Suzee's letter, why not go out to +'Frisco? It would make a change, something to do, something to drive +away this perpetual desire of another's presence. + +A second night like last stared me in the face. What was the use of +continuing to feel in this wretched, angry, burning, hungry way? + +I broke the seal and read Suzee's second appeal to me, more +passionate, more urgent than the last. She begged me to go to her +without delay, or it would be too late; a fervour of longing breathed +in every line. + +An ironic smile came over my face as I read. This letter to me seemed +like an echo of the one I had sent to Viola that morning. Well, I +would wait for her answer, and then, perhaps, if she would not return +to me, I would go to 'Frisco. + +In any case, I would send a few lines to Suzee with the money for her +purchase. It would be best to cable it to her, and I went out again to +arrange this. + +Five wretched, listless days went by, followed by nearly sleepless +nights, and then came Viola's answer, apparently by the postmark from +some place in France. + +My whole body shook as I opened it, and for many seconds I could see +nothing on the paper but a mass of dancing black lines. Yet the +immense comfort of being again in touch with her after these dreadful +days of isolation seemed to flow over and through me like some healing +balm. + +At last I read these lines: + + "I am terribly, unutterably grieved, my own dearest one, to hear + how much you have suffered, but my return to you now would not + undo that, and only give you the pain in addition that I went away + to avoid for you. + + "Go, dearest, go out to 'Frisco, and let the thought of me lie in + your subconsciousness for a year, a little chrysalis of future + happiness. Do not think of me, do not let your mind dwell on me. + Fill up your life with joy and work. I have a conviction that we + cannot ever really separate in this life. Therefore I do not fear + (as you seemed to do) that anything will be strong enough to keep + us apart if we both will to be together. Only, for a time, let me + sleep in your Soul in a chamber where none other can enter, and + the year will soon pass for you, though slowly, as a winter night, + for me. Your + + "VIOLA." + + * * * * * + +A great numbness seized me as I came to the end. + +A year without her. It seemed like Eternity itself. + +I sat for many hours motionless with her letter in my hand. + +Then I went out and to a ticket office in Piccadilly, and got a +through ticket to 'Frisco. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +IN 'FRISCO + + +During the voyage to New York and the subsequent journey across +America to San Francisco I was very wretched. + +The mystery of Viola's disappearance and her flight from me stood +before my mind perpetually, worrying and harassing it. I felt no +joyful anticipation of reaching 'Frisco and meeting Suzee, though I +recognised in a dull way that some sort of distraction and +companionship would be the best thing to stop this incessant pondering +on the same subject. I slept little at night, and in the short +intervals of rest such vivid dreams of Viola would come to me, that +awakening in the morning brought a fresh anguish of despair and +disappointment with it each day. + +This sort of thing could not go on, I must let her "lie asleep in my +subconsciousness for a year," as she put it in her letter--for to +forget her was impossible--or my reason would go down under the +strain. + +When I arrived in San Francisco, it was one of those strange days when +the sea-fog comes in to visit the town. It rolled in great thick +billows down the streets from the sand dunes, obscuring everything, +damping everything, filling the air with the salt scent of the open +sea. + +I went to one of the big hotels, and they gave me a bedroom and +sitting-room to myself: the rooms were adjoining and comfortable, but +oh! what a blankness fell upon me as I sat down in one of the chairs +and the bell-boy, having deposited a jug of iced water on the table, +shut the door. I had been so much with Viola that it seemed strange to +me now, hard to realise that I was alone. How many rooms such as +these, she and I had come into, shared together, and how bright and +gay her companionship had always been, how she had always laughed at +the discomforts or the difficulties of our travels! Surely we had been +made for each other! What strange wave of life was this that had +broken us apart? I looked towards my bedroom, dull and cheerless and +empty. From the open window the warm, wet, yellow fog was streaming in +its soft wreaths through both rooms. The roar from the stone-paved +streets, crowded with incessant traffic, came up to me muffled through +the fog. + +After a time I rose, closed the windows, unpacked my things, and +changed my clothes. Then I went down at six to dine, as I wanted a +long evening. Some champagne cheered me, and as I sat in the long, +crowded dining-room, alone at my small table, my heart began to beat +again warmly at the thought of the new venture before me. To-night? +What would it bring forth? Should I find her? The vitalising breath of +excitement began to creep through me. I finished my dinner hurriedly, +swallowed my black coffee at a draught, and made my way down the room +and out to the hall, putting on my hat and coat as I went. I found the +guide I had asked for when I first arrived at the hotel waiting for +me. He asked me mysteriously if I had put away my watch and divested +myself of all jewellery, and I told him impatiently I had and showed +him a small revolver I always carried. When he was somewhat reassured +I took the paper that Suzee had sent me out of my pocket and showed it +to him. + +"That's where I want to go," I said, "and if you know every hole and +cranny of the place as I was told, I suppose you know that one." + +The guide grinned as he read the name. + +"It's the worst place in the whole town," he remarked with a sort of +admiring unction. I evidently went up in his estimation as he +recognised the acumen I had shewed in my choice. I was a visitor +worthy of his guidance, and he was put upon his mettle. + +"The police don't dare to go there, but they'll let me in day or +night." + +We had reached the door now and stepped into the street. The fog had +had its frolic down town, it seemed and had almost disappeared, +rolling off to the sand dunes and the sea whence it had come. The +night was dark and fresh with the damp saltness of the shore; a few +stars shone above. The shops were still open, and their huge +plate-glass windows blazed with light. We walked rapidly through these +streets towards the Chinese quarter where the noise and light ceased. +The streets were quiet and empty and seemed very clean. The shops here +were closed. The lights few. There was a fever of impatience in my +veins. I felt as when one is drawing near to an unknown combat: a +conflict the nature of which and ultimate result one does not know. + +My rather shambling guide seemed amused at the pace at which I walked +and giggled immoderately between remarks of his own which seemed to +him to be appropriate to the occasion. I hardly heard him. At one +moment I was lost in a bitter reflection of how many excursions and +similar wanderings Viola had shared with me; at another, my mind +seemed leaping eagerly forward, to seize this new joy in front of me. + +"That's a joss-house, and that's a tea-house, and that's a silk +merchant," remarked my guide at intervals, indicating different +buildings as we passed. Some were frame houses with signs hanging out, +painted in Chinese characters and with wonderful red door-posts; some +had latticed windows with lights burning behind. But for the most +part, from this outer point of view, Chinatown was clean, orderly, and +dark. + +We stopped at last before an open doorway through which we stepped and +crossed a yard, hemmed in by the crowded frame buildings round it, but +open to the sky. By the light of the stars we found a ladder at the +farther side and ascended this as it leant against the crooked wall of +a rickety and tumbledown-looking house. The ladder went as far as the +second story, where there was an open square of blackness, either +window or door, through which we scrambled from the swaying rungs and +then found ourselves in a passage. It was very low, apparently, for I +struck my head whenever I held it upright, and so narrow that our +shoulders brushed the sides. It was in fact a little tunnel, reminding +one of the rounded runways a rabbit makes in thick undergrowth. It was +quite dark, and my guide put himself in front and took one of my +hands, pulling me along after him down steps and round corners, along +different twisted, corkscrew turnings, till at last a passage a little +broader than the others opened before us, where a lamp was burning; he +drew back against the wall, pushing me forwards, and whispering some +directions in my ear. + +I passed along, as I was bid, went down two small steps, and knocked +at the door I found before me. The door seemed a very stout one, +securely fastened, and had a small aperture, at the height of one's +face from the ground. It was only about five inches square and set +with thick vertical iron bars. Behind these was an iron flap now +closed. + +I knocked and waited. Presently the iron flap behind the bars was +cautiously opened and I saw a face peering through at me. Before I +could speak the iron flap was shut to with a clank. + +"That's because Nanine sees you're a stranger," whispered my guide. +"They're a real bad lot here, and they're precious afraid of any 'tecs +getting in. Just let me pass, sir." + +I drew back, and he went up and gave the most extraordinary squawk +that I ever heard. It was a pretty good password to have, for I should +think no stranger could imitate it. The flap flew open again, and then +some conversation ensued through the bars. + +"It's all right now, sir," said the guide after a minute; "you walk +right in." The door was now ajar. I went forwards and pushed it; it +gave way easily. I stepped inside, and it swung to behind me. Inside +the light was red--scarlet. A lamp was standing somewhere at the side +of the room, behind thin, red curtains. As I entered, another door at +the end of the room swung to on a retreating form. Some one had gone +out. The room seemed empty. It was very small, and an enormous bed +took up nearly the whole of it. There seemed no window at all +anywhere: the low ceiling almost touched my head. I stopped still. A +very slight movement somewhere near me seemed to speak of another's +presence. + +"Suzee," I said under my breath. + +At the sound of my voice there was a delighted cry, and the next +moment a little form in scarlet drapery threw itself at my feet. + +"Treevor, Treevor," came in Suzee's voice; and I bent over the little +scarlet bundle, lifted her up, and pressed my lips on her hair. It +smelt of roses, just as it had done in the tea-shop at Sitka, and +carried me back there on the wings of its fragrance, as scents alone +can do. + +She clung to me in a wild fervour of emotion. I felt her little hands +dutch me desperately. She kissed my arm and wrist passionately, +seeming not to dare to lift her face to mine. This wild abandonment, +this frenzy of hungered, starving love, what a sharp contrast to the +cool, slow surrender of Viola, if surrender it could be called, that +lending of the beautiful body, with total reserve of the spirit! Even +in that moment of this wild lavishing of love from another, as the +little breast leapt wildly against my own, a fierce pulse of jealous +longing went through me as I thought of that unconquered something +that _she_ had never yielded to me. + +Suzee hardly seemed to expect my caresses in return, she only seemed +to wish to pour her own upon me in the wildest, most lavish excess. +At last, when she grew a little calmer, I held her at arm's length +from me and looked at her. + +"Now, Suzee, I want you to tell me what you are doing in this awful +place. How did you get here, to begin with?" + +"Oh, Mister Treevor, I have had such trouble, such awful trouble, you +will never believe; but when I ran--when I came to Mrs. Hackett she +was very good to me, only she wanted to sell me for two hundred and +fifty dollars to Chinaman. I said, 'No, I belong to rich Englishman. +He send you more if you wait. He send you three hundred!' And I wrote +you, you remember?" + +"Yes," I answered. "Did you get the money all right that I cabled to +you?" + +"Oh yes, Treevor, thank you; and Nanine had it and so she was willing +to keep me." + +"But what have you been doing while you have been here?" I said +glancing round. The whole place, with its hidden entrance, secret +passages, and barred doors seemed to speak of the lowest and worst +forms of vice. + +"Oh, Treevor, I have been very good, so good. I would not have any +visitors at all. I was so afraid you would find out and not have me if +you knew, and, besides, I loved you too much." (But this was +evidently an after-thought, and I noted it as such. Her true reason +was given first.) "And I knew Nanine would take all my money, whatever +I got. She is good to the girls here, but she takes all their money, +all, they never have any. So I said to myself, 'What is the use? +Besides, he will come soon and take you away.' And to Nanine I +said--'Englishman will be so angry with you and with me, perhaps he +will kill you or tell the police if you do not keep me for him.' And +when the money came Nanine was quite pleased and said perhaps you +would pay more when you came, so she did not worry me with Chinamen or +any one, and I've had this room all to myself since I've been here. +And I was very much afraid of you, Treevor, if I did anything at all, +so I really, really have not." + +I kept my eyes fixed on hers all the time she was speaking, and I felt +as the words came eagerly from her lips that they were the truth. Her +exquisite, untouched beauty, her ardour of passionate welcome to me +helped to illustrate it. + +I smiled at her. + +"Well, I am quite satisfied," I said; "I believe you have been 'good,' +as you call it, because you were afraid to be otherwise. I want to +hear a lot more about your husband and how you came here, but I think +we had better get out of this place as soon as we can. Have you any +things you want to take with you?" + +"Only this," she said, pointing to an odd, little, hide-covered trunk +beside her. "That has my silk clothes in it and my jewellery. If you +want me to come away I can come now." + +I sat silent for a moment, thinking. Where should I take her? Back to +my own hotel perhaps for this one night. It might be managed. It was +getting late, most of the people in the hotel would be in bed when we +got there. To-morrow or the next day we could start for Mexico, where +I had made up my mind to go with her. + +"Very well," I said aloud; "shut up your trunk and put something round +you, and we'll go now." + +"You will see Nanine? You will speak to her? Let me call her," said +Suzee rather anxiously. And as I assented she slipped out of the room +and reappeared with a fat, coarse-looking woman who grinned amiably as +she saw me. She agreed to let Suzee go with me then and there for +another hundred dollars, and said her little trunk should be sent +downstairs and put on a cab which the guide could get for us. + +While this was being done, she chatted to me, thanked me for the money +I had cabled over, and hoped I was satisfied with Suzee, her +appearance, and the treatment she had received. I said I was, and +asked how it was the girl had come to her at all. She seemed a little +confused at that, and began to explain volubly that she had had +nothing to do with it. Suzee had come there one night and begged to be +taken in, and as she had known some of the girl's people who had +formerly lived in Chinatown, she had done so out of pure pity and +charity and love of humanity. + +I listened to all this with a smile, and, as I felt I was not getting +the truth, did not prolong the conversation. When the guide came back +and said he was ready for us I paid the one hundred dollars and wished +her good-night. + +She opened the outer door of the room for us, and we went down a +staircase this time which eventually led us to a door in another yard +from which we gained the street. The ladder way, I take it, was used +chiefly as a convenient exit in case of a raid by the police. I put +Suzee into the cab and jumped in myself, the guide went on the box, +and we drove back to the hotel. + +It needed a certain amount of moral courage to drive up to the hotel +with the scarlet-clad Suzee beside me, but I think possibly artists +have a larger share of that useful quality than other men. Always +having been different from others since his childhood, the artist is +accustomed to the gaping wonder, the ridicule as well as the +admiration, the misunderstanding, of those about him, and it ceases to +affect him; while viewing as he does his companions with a certain +contempt, knowing them to be less gifted than himself, he sets no +store by their opinion. + +So I paid and dismissed my guide, also the driver, pushed open the +swinging glass doors, and entered the lounge, Suzee beside me. + +We were not late enough; in another hour the hall would have been +deserted. As it was, the band had ceased playing, but there were +numbers of men lounging about and smoking, and groups of women still +sitting in the rocking-chairs under the palms. + +Through the hall we went, straight to the lift, but every eye was +turned upon us and I felt rather than heard the gasp of horror that +our entry caused. The elevator boy almost collapsed on the ground as I +motioned Suzee to go in and sit down, which she did--on the floor. + +However, no actual force was used to restrain our movements, and we +reached my rooms without any hindrance. + +It was decidedly an improvement to have her there; the rooms looked +better, more comfortable, more as my rooms were accustomed to look. + +Suzee herself was extravagantly delighted, and shewed it in every look +and gesture. Gay and radiant in her brilliant scarlet silk, she moved +about under the electric light like a glowing animated picture. + +"What will you have to eat or drink?" I asked as I saw her look +curiously into the jug of iced water that adorned my table. "I'll +order some supper." + +"Anything, Treevor, anything you eat; I don't mind, and I never drink +anything but tea. May I get out my own tea-things and make it?" + +"Certainly," I answered, and I watched her interestedly as she went +down on her knees before her little trunk and opened it, turning out +beautiful coloured silks of all shades on to the floor. + +While we were thus innocently engaged the hotel manager burst suddenly +into the room. He looked very perturbed, and his face was a deep +purple. + +"Now, sir, will you tell me what you mean by behaving like this in a +respectable hotel?" + +He caught sight of Suzee sitting on the ground and started; the girl +stared up at him with a look of astonishment in which I thought +recognition blended. + +"Come outside," I said mildly, "and take a turn in the corridor with +me." And we both went out and shut the door. + +I talked with him for fifteen minutes and explained it was unwise and +unnecessary to make a great fuss and turn a good customer into the +streets at this late hour. We were going in any case as soon as we +could get off; in the mean time, the engagement of the next room to +mine at seven dollars a day for Suzee would satisfy the proprieties. +An artist must have models for his pictures and must put them up +somewhere. Besides, I pointed out that he could put all my +transgressions down at full length in the bill. + +This seemed to soothe him very much, and our interview ended by his +unlocking the door of the next room, turning on the lights, and saying +what a fine one it was. I promised Suzee should occupy it, and told +him we wanted supper and some champagne he could recommend. This +completely softened him, and he left me promising to send the waiter +for orders. + +In a few minutes the same bell-boy appeared with another of the +inevitable jugs of iced water, and a waiter came immediately after and +took my orders. All this being temporarily arranged, I went back to +Suzee. She had changed in that short time from her scarlet dress into +one of the palest blue, the most exquisite soft tone of colour +conceivable. It was all embroidered round the edge of the little +jacket and the wide falling sleeves in mauve and silver, and she had +twisted some mauve flowers and heavy silver ornaments into her shining +hair. Her great dark eyes flashed and sparkled, the pure tint of her +skin shewed the most faultless cream against the soft blue silk, her +little mouth curved redly in gay smiles as she looked at me for +admiration. + +I was sad and heart-sick really in my inner self, but the senses count +for much in this life and they were pleased and told me I had done +well. + +"I am quite, quite happy, Treevor," she said, as I told her she was +beautiful, a vision to dazzle one. "Now see me make tea. All Chinese +make it this way." + +On a little side table she had rigged up a sort of spirit stand, and +on this a kettle steamed merrily. Set out on the table was a queer +little silver box of tea and four delicate, transparent cups or +basins, for they had no handles, of the most fairy-like egg-shell +china, each standing in a shell-like saucer. + +"Where is your teapot?" I asked, coming up to the table and putting my +hand on the blue silk-clad shoulder. + +"Chinese never have teapot. That's all an English mistake. Chinese +always make tea in a cup." + +She took as she spoke a pinch of tea between her tiny fingers and +dropped it into one of the cups, immediately filling it up with +boiling water. Then she took the saucer from underneath and set it on +the top, its rim exactly enclosed the edge of the cup. Raising the +saucer a trifle at one side, she poured the infusion into one of the +other little bowls, keeping her finger on the saucer to hold it in +place. The tea leaves, kept back by the saucer, remained in the first +cup. The tea, a clear, pale-amber liquid, filled the second. + +"Now it is ready to drink," she said, lifting the tiny egg-shell bowl +and handing it to me. + +"Don't you have any milk or sugar?" I said, taking the hot basin in my +hand and holding it by a little rim at the bottom, the only place one +could hold it for the heat. + +"No, anything else spoil it. You drink that and I make you another." + +She threw away the first leaves, put a fresh pinch of tea in, filled +up the bowl and strained it off into another as before, then picked up +the second by the bottom rim, drained it, and repeated the process +with marvellous rapidity. I watched her, sipping my own. + +"Do you like it?" she asked. "It is real gold-tipped Orange Pekoe. +Very good tea, indeed!" + +I drank it. It had a wonderful flavour. I told her so and took another +cup, to her great delight. + +The waiter came in, laid our supper on the table, put the champagne in +ice, and departed. I offered Suzee the wine, but she said she had all +the tea she could drink. She was willing to eat, however, and we sat +down to the table. + +"I want you to tell me all about what happened at Sitka," I said. "How +did poor old Hop Lee die?" + +"Oh, it was all such a dreadful thing, Treevor," she returned, +spreading out both hands, on the wrists of which heavy silver bangles +set with amethysts shone and tinkled. "He went down one day to Fort +Wrangle on business and when he came back one day after, he had a +fearful cough, and then he got very ill and went to bed, and I sat +beside him and he got worse and worse. Oh, so bad, and the doctor came +and he had very much medicine, and then his chest began to bleed, and +he coughed very much blood for days and days and weeks, and I nursed +him all that time, Treevor, all night long. I got no sleep at all; oh, +it was very, very bad." + +I looked at her curiously. I could not somehow picture Suzee as the +devoted nurse passing sleepless nights and never absent from the +pillow of the suffering Hop Lee. + +As I looked at her, I noticed the strange thickening of the features +and darkening of the skin I had noted before at Sitka, and knew the +blood was mounting into the face, though she could not blush, as the +English girl blushes, red. + +"It is really true, Treevor," she said, in an aggrieved tone. + +"I am not contradicting you," I replied calmly, "go on." + +"At last he died," she continued, though in rather a sulky tone, "and +doctor said I might die too, I had made myself so ill, so thin with +waiting on him. My bones stuck out so," she put her hands edgeways to +her sides to indicate how her ribs, now remarkably well covered, had +stood out from her sufferings; but remembering the fictitious blows +she had recounted to me when I first met her, I was not so much +stirred by her recital as I might otherwise have been. + +"And what about the child?" I asked. + +"The boy? Oh, Treevor, he died very soon after. He caught cold from +his father, I think." + +"Did he die of cold and cough, too, then?" I asked. + +"Yes, he coughed till he died. Oh, I cried so much when he died. My +baby boy, my very big baby, I did love him so." + +She blinked her glorious eyes very much as if they were full of tears +at the recollection, but I did not see any fall, and she pursued her +supper without any interruption of appetite. + +I sat back in my chair, watching her and musing. Poor old Hop Lee! I +wondered what his last moments had been like, and whether those dainty +fingers had really been employed smoothing his brow, or counting his +effects, at the last? + +"And then what came after?" I asked. "How did it come that you were to +be sold, as you said?" + +"We were very poor when he died; so poor, and we owed a lot, and his +brother came up from Juneau and took over the tea-shop and everything. +Then he said he had offer from big Chinaman who would buy me, and he +said my husband owe him lot of money, he sell me, get it back, and he +sent me down to Nanine in 'Frisco to give to big Chinaman; but I told +Nanine you would give more, so Nanine kept me for you." + +"But how will your husband's brother get the money for you in that +case?" I said. + +"What a lot of questions you do ask, Treevor!" she returned sulkily. +"I don't know how he will get the money. He will make Nanine give him +some, I suppose. Let us forget it all, I don't want to think of that +any more." + +I laughed. + +"Very well. If you have finished your supper, come over here and sit +on my knee and we will forget it all, as you say." + +She rose willingly and came over to me, a lovely, shimmering, Oriental +vision, dainty and perfect. + +"I must paint you, Suzee, some day just as you appear now and call you +The Beauty of China, or something like that. You seem the joy of the +East incarnate." + +Suzee frowned and then smiled. + +"I do not like such long words. I do not understand you when you talk +like that; but I love you, Treevor, so, so much." + +The misty light of dawn was rolling over 'Frisco when I shewed Suzee +her own room, where according to the pact with the manager, she was to +sleep. + +She shivered as we went into it. + +"Oh, Treevor, what a great big room," she said; "I am frightened at +it. Won't you stay with me? Or let me be in yours?" + +"I said you should sleep here," I answered; "so you must. Jump into +bed quick and go to sleep; you will soon forget the size of the room. +I am dead tired now, I must go and get some sleep myself. Good-night, +dear." + +I kissed her and went back to the sitting-room. The morning light +struggling with the artificial fell on the table with its scattered +plates and glasses, and on her little trunk and the unpacked silken +clothes. + +I turned out the lights and drew up the blinds, and stood looking out. +The waves of soft white fog filled the empty streets. All was quiet, +white, in the dawn. + +I had said I was tired, yet now sleep seemed far from my eyes, and my +mind flew out over intervening space to Viola, longing to find her, +wherever she was. + +Where would she be? I could imagine her waking with this same dawn in +her calm, innocent bed, and gazing, too, into this white light, and +longing for me. Surely she would be that? The words of her letter came +back to me: the time would pass "slowly as a winter night to me, your +Viola." + +She was right. Nothing could divide us permanently, really. Perhaps +even Death would be powerless to do that. + +I had a dissatisfied feeling with myself. Would it have been better, I +asked myself, to have waited through this year alone, since nothing +could really satisfy or delight me in her absence? What was the good, +after all, of chasing the mere shadow of the joy I had with her? + +But, strangely enough, I felt that Viola had no wish that I should +pass this mysterious year of separation she had imposed upon us, +alone. + +She had confessed her inability to share my love with any other. The +incident of Veronica had made that clear; but now that she chose to +deny herself to me she seemed rather to wish than otherwise that I +should seek adventures, experiences elsewhere. And I felt +indefinitely, yet strongly, that the more I could crush into this year +of life and of artistic inspiration, especially the latter, the +happier she would feel when we met. + +Perhaps she wished to tire me with lesser loves, certain that her own +must prevail against them. Perhaps she had even left me solely for +this, with this idea. Knowing herself unable to bear the pain of +infidelity to her when she was present, yet, accepting it as tending +to some ultimate psychological end, she had withdrawn herself from me. + +I remembered she had said once to me: + +"I would so much rather be a man's last love, the crowning love of +his life, the one whose image would be with him as he passed from this +world, than his first; poor little toy of his youth, forgotten, +unheeded, effaced by the passions of his life at the zenith." + +Perhaps, ... but, ah! what was the use of speculation when it might +all be wrong? + +Some reason was there, guiding that subtle mystery of her brain, and +I, if I fulfilled her expressed wishes, was doing the utmost to carry +out that plan of hers which I could not yet understand. + +A feeling of excessive weariness invaded me, mental and physical, and +as the light grew stronger, breaking into day, I went to my own room +to sleep. + +As soon as I woke I got up and went to look at my new possession. To +my surprise the room seemed empty. I looked round. No Suzee. I went up +to the bed. It had apparently not been slept in, but two of the +blankets had been pulled off and disappeared. + +As I stood by the bedside, wondering what had become of her, I felt a +soft kiss on my ankles and, looking down, there she was, creeping out +from under the bed with one of the blankets round her. Her hair was a +lovely undisarranged mass; but the rosebuds in it were dead, and it +was dusty. Her face looked like white silk in its youthful pallor. She +smiled up delightedly at me and crawled out farther from the bed +valance. + +"What are you doing down there?" I asked. "Wasn't the bed +comfortable?" + +"Oh yes, Treevor, underneath I was very comfortable and warm. You see, +I have always been accustomed to something over my head, and in this +room the ceiling is such a long way off." + +She got up and stood before me, her rounded shoulders and sweetly +moulded arms shewing above the blanket. + +"You don't mind, do you?" she added, with a note of quick anxiety. + +I laughed as I remembered the low ceilings, almost on one's head, that +are the rule in Chinatown, and caught her up in my arms. + +"No, I don't mind," I said; "only get into bed now, and don't shew +that you have slept underneath instead of inside. I am going to order +breakfast and I will call you in a minute or two." + +I threw her on to the bed, into which she rolled like a kitten, kissed +her, and went back to my own room. + +When we had had breakfast I took Suzee with me on the car, and all the +eyes of its occupants fixed upon us for the whole of the journey. This +was harmless, however, and I did not mind, while Suzee sat apparently +sublimely unconscious of the rude stares and ruder smiles, with the +calm gravity of the Oriental who is above insults because he considers +himself above criticism. + +At the office where I went to buy tickets for our journey I was put to +worse annoyance. I had taken tickets for two from 'Frisco to City of +Mexico when the clerk, looking suddenly from me to my childish +companion, said: "We can't give you a section,[A] sir." + +"Why not?" I demanded. + +"Only married couples," he remarked tersely, and turned away. + +I told Suzee to go outside, and went to another part of the office, +bought my section ticket from another clerk while the first was +engaged, and then joined her. I began to realise that petty +difficulties would line the path the whole way, and I must make some +effort to minimise them. + +We went to a cafe for lunch, and after seating ourselves at a table a +little away from the staring crowd, I said: "I expect it would be +better if we got you some American clothes." + +"Very well, Treevor," she returned docilely, and leant her pretty, +round, ivory-hued cheek on her hand as she looked across at me +adoringly. Had I suggested cutting off her head, I believe she would +have looked the same. + +"We must try after lunch to get some," I continued. "And don't be too +submissive to me in public. You see, it's not at all the fashion with +us for wives to be that way, and it makes people think you are not +mine." + +Suzee laughed gaily: the idea seemed to amuse her. + +After lunch we went to one of the large stores, and Suzee, in her +scarlet silk attracted of course general attention. We found, however, +a sensible saleswoman to whom I explained that I wanted a grey +travelling costume, and she and Suzee disappeared from me entirely, +into the fitting-room. + +Left alone, I swung myself back on a chair and lapsed into thought. + +When Suzee at last came back an exclamation broke from me. She was +spoilt. Lovely as she seemed in her own picturesque clothing, in the +rough grey cloth of hideous Western dress she looked simply a little +guy. Reading my face at a glance, her own clouded instantly, and in +another second she would have thrown herself at my feet had I not +warned her by a look and a gesture not to. I sprang up and turned to +the saleswoman. + +"Is this the best, the prettiest costume you have?" I asked. + +"Yes, sir. You see it's so difficult to fit the young lady without any +corsets, and she is really so short we have only a few skirts that +will do for her." + +I looked at Suzee as she stood before me. The figure, so exquisite in +its lines when unclothed, looked too soft and shapeless under the +cloth coat. She appeared absurdly short, too, beside the American +assistant, who stood at least five feet eleven. I could not bear to +see my little Suzee so disfigured. However, that she looked far more +ordinary could not be disputed. She would attract less attention now, +and that might be an advantage. Her head was still bare and had its +Oriental character, but the colour of her skin against the grey cloth +lost its creaminess that it had possessed above the blue silk jacket. +It now looked merely sallow. + +I paid nine guineas for the hideous dress, ordered the silk clothes to +be sent to the hotel, and then we went on to the millinery. Amongst +these frightful edifices my heart sank still more, but I steeled +myself to the ordeal, and, choosing out the simplest grey one I could +find, directed the giggling young shop-assistant to try it on Suzee. + +The immense coiffure of shining black hair of the Chinese girl did not +lend itself to any Western hat. Hat and hair together made her head +appear out of proportion to the small, short figure. + +At last, in despair, I said: + +"You must alter your hair and do it in a different way. Could you take +it down now and roll it up small at the back, do you think?" + +Suzee gazed on me in mild surprise. + +"Take my hair down, here and now! Why, it's done up for a fortnight!" +she answered simply, while the shop-girl turned away to replace a hat +and hide her titters. + +"Do you only do your hair once a fortnight?" I enquired, surprised in +my turn. + +"Yes, that's all. It's such a bother to do. It was done just before +you came. I thought it would do for a month, I took such pains with +it." + +A month! So that beautiful, scented, shining coiffure was only brushed +out once a month! + +A sudden memory of Viola and her gleaming light tresses swept over me, +as I had seen them at night lying on her shoulders. But had I not +often waited for her till I was deadly sleepy, and when at length she +came to the bedside and I had asked her what she had been doing all +that time, had she not generally said--"brushing her hair"? + +Perhaps, after all, a coiffure that never detained its owner at night +except once a month might have its advantages. + +By the time these reflections had swept over me, Suzee herself had +found a little grey velvet hat that looked less dreadful than the +rest. I had only to pay for it, which I did, and she walked away with +me in her Western clothes. At the glove counter things went well, and +she triumphed over her civilised sisters. Her tiny supple hands were +easily fitted by number five, and tired and thirsty with our efforts +we left the store and found our way to a tea-shop. + +The change in dress made matters easier. She did not attract much +notice now; and unless any one looked very closely at her, she would +pass for any little ordinary, unattractive European girl. It rather +ruffled my vanity to think she should look like this, but I consoled +myself with thinking of the evening, when the hideous disguise could +be laid aside and she would appear again in her amber beauty and I +could pose her in a hundred ways. + +We had several cups of tea apiece. Very good I found it, though Suzee +somewhat disdainfully remarked it was not like China tea; and then +returned to the hotel. + +As I passed through the swing doors with my reclothed and much altered +companion, the proprietor came hastily forwards with protestation +written on his face. He evidently thought I had erred again and this +was another investment. He was about to impart vigorously his opinion +of me when a hasty glance at Suzee's face and my bland look of enquiry +stopped him. Instead of addressing us, he wheeled round discomfited +and disappeared into his bureau. + +"Why does that man always look so crossly at you?" enquired Suzee, as +we were walking down the passage to our rooms. + +"He does not approve of my wickedness in having you here," I answered +laughing. "He thinks a man must never be with any woman but his wife." + +"And has he a wife?" + +"Yes, that great creature you saw sitting in the glass desk +downstairs." + +Suzee threw up her chin and pursed up her soft blue-red lips. + +"I know that man by sight quite well. He was always down with the +girls in Chinatown. He was one of Nanine's best customers." + +I laughed as I put the key in, and opened our door. + +"That accounts then, quite, for his terrific propriety in his hotel," +I answered. "It's always the way. You can tell the really vicious +person by his affected horror of vice." + +We dined upstairs, and directly after dinner I got her to pose for me +that I might catch the first idea for my picture "The Joy of the +East." + +She still shewed an apparently unconquerable objection to any undraped +study, so I did not press it, but told her to dress as she had been +dressed the previous night, in blue and mauve with silver ornaments, +and I would take her in that. + +While she was arraying herself I sat back in my chair, thinking. + +How strange it was that a girl like Viola, who I believed would have +been burnt alive rather than let an untruth pass her lips, who could +not possibly have done a dishonourable action, had posed for me so +simply and fearlessly, viewing the whole matter from that artistic +standpoint which is so lofty because so really pure; and this girl, +whose soul, as I knew, was full of trickery and treachery, and whose +lips were worn with lies, clothed herself about with this ridiculous +prudery and imagined it was modesty! + +She came back presently, wonderfully lovely in the bizarre Oriental +costume, and I wanted her to stand on tiptoe, leaning towards me and +laughing. + +But she was not a good model; she soon grew tired and failed to keep +the same pose or expression. She fidgeted so, that at last I laid the +paper aside. + +"Your expression won't go with that title," I said. "What is the +matter? Can't you stand still and look happy for fifteen minutes?" + +"It's so tiring to stand quite still," she said crossly, and my heart +reproached me as I thought of Viola and the hours she had stood for me +without a word of complaint in the London studio! + +"Well, I'll try another picture. I shall call it 'The Spoiled +Favourite of the Harem,' Throw yourself into that chair and look as +cross as you like." + +Suzee sat down opposite me. I put her head back against the chair; her +right arm hung over the side, in her left hand she held a cigarette, +one foot was bent under her, the other swung listlessly to the ground. + +Her expression, restless and dissatisfied, her attitude, weary and +enervated, gave the idea of the title admirably, and I made a good +sketch. + +She was sitting down now so she could keep still without much +difficulty, and her air of _ennui_ suited this theme well enough. + +As soon as I had finished the sketch and told her she might get up she +was delighted. She did not seem to take much interest in the picture, +however, but rather regard it grudgingly as it took up my attention. +She was only happy again when I took her on my knees and caressed her, +telling her she was the loveliest Eastern I had ever seen. + +The following day we started on our journey southward. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote A: Sleeping berth for two persons in the Pullman car.] + + + + +CHAPTER X + +IN THE SHADOW OF THE VOLCANO + + +The journey down to the City of Mexico, in itself, was a delight to +me, and I felt how infinitely more I could have enjoyed it had Viola +been with me. + +My present companion did not seem able to appreciate any but physical +beauty. If a good looking man came on board the train she glanced over +him, demurely enough, but with the eye of a connoisseur. The glorious +beauty, however, of the painted skies and magnificent stretches of +open country we were passing through affected her not at all. + +For four days, on either side of the train, America unrolled before us +her vast tracts of entrancing beauty, from which I could hardly tear +my gaze, and this little almond-eyed doll sat in a lump on the seat +opposite me yawning and fidgeting, or else reading some childish book; +or spent the time at the other end of the car playing with some +American children on board the train. + +I did not intend to have my journey spoilt by her, so I gave my own +attention to the scene and told her to go and play, if she wished, or +buy oranges and pictures from the train-venders, do anything she +liked, in fact, as long as she did not disturb me and prevent my +taking a pleasure in the beauty she could not see. + +Suzee, annoyed at my admiration of something she could not +appreciate, was mostly sulky and pettish through the day, regaining +her good temper at night when we retired into our section. + +As a toy to caress, to fondle, she was enchanting. Nature had +apparently made her for that and for nothing else. Her extreme youth, +her beauty, her joy in love, made her irresistible at such moments. +And as I was young, at the height of youth's powers and desires, our +relations in that way held a great deal of pleasure for us both. + +But that was the limit. Beyond this there was nothing. + +That exquisite mental companionship, that sharing of every thought and +idea, that constant conversation on all sorts of subjects that +interested us both, all this which I had had with Viola, and which +filled so perfectly those intervals when the tired senses ask for, and +can give, no more pleasure, was completely absent here. + +That delight in beauty which is to an artist as much a part of his +life as another man's delight in food or wine Viola had shared with me +in an intense degree. + +And sharing any of the delights of life with one we love enhances them +enormously. One can easily imagine a gourmand being dissatisfied with +his wife if she resolutely refused to share any of his meals! + +Now, as I gazed through the windows of the slow-moving train and saw +the long blue lines of the level-topped hills, the deep purple edges +of the vast table-lands rising against the amber or the blood red +evening skies, I longed for Viola with that inward longing of the soul +which nothing but the presence of its own companion can satisfy. + +One evening, as I gazed out, the whole prairie was bathed in +rose-coloured light that appeared to ripple over it in pink waves. The +tall grass, tall as that of an English hay-field, seemed touched with +fire; far on every side stretched the open plain, absolutely level, +bounded at last in the far distance by that deep purple wall of +mountains, flat-topped, level-lined also, against the sky, the great +mesas or table-lands of Mexico. + +And in this vast expanse of waving grasses and low flowering shrubs, +in the pink glow of the evening, stood out two graceful forms, a pair +of coyotes, distinct against the sunset behind them. Only these two +were visible in all that great lonely plain, and they stood together +watching the train go by, their sinuous bodies and low sweeping tails +touched and tipped with fire in the ruby light. + +How delighted Viola would have been with that scene, I thought +regretfully, as the train carried us through it. + +When we arrived at the City of Mexico, we drove to the Hotel Iturbide +and took a room high up on the third floor, to be well lifted out of +the suffocating atmosphere of the streets. + +Suzee was a little overawed by the height of the long, narrow room +that we had assigned to us in this, at one time, palace, but when she +saw that the bed was comfortable and there was a large mirror before +which she could array and re-array herself, she was satisfied. + +I saw the room would be a very difficult one to paint in, for it was +dark in spite of the tall window which opened on to an iron balcony +running across the front of the hotel. + +The window was draped with thick red curtains and had a deep, handsome +cornice hanging over it. + +Suzee went on to the balcony immediately and was delighted with the +incessant stream of gaily dressed people passing underneath. This was +the main street of the city. Not very wide, flanked with lofty, old, +picturesquely built houses on each side, of which the lower part was +often shop or restaurant, it presented somewhat the same heavy, gloomy +appearance as the streets in Italian towns. The air was thick, +dust-laden, and evil-smelling, for the City of Mexico, though at an +elevation of 8,000 feet, has none of the crisp, healthful clearness, +usually to be found at that altitude. Built over the bed of an +enormous dried up lake, in the centre of an elevated table-land, it +is, even at the present day, badly drained and unhealthy. + +We had some tea brought up to us and took it at a little table drawn +close to the window,--Suzee chattering away to me of the delights of +this new big city--as big as 'Frisco, she thought. And what gay hats +the women wore! She saw them passing underneath. Would I not take her +out to the shops and buy a great big white muslin hat like theirs, +covered with pink roses? + +I promised I would, watching her with a smile. + +She was certainly very lovely just now. She seemed to have bloomed +into fairer beauty than she had possessed at Sitka. + +Doubtless her gratified passion and happy relations with me helped to +this result, for a woman's beauty depends almost wholly on her inner +life, the life of her emotions and passions. + +After tea we went downstairs, hired a carriage, and drove to the +Paseo--or laid-out drive--which is the thing to do in Mexico at that +hour; and to follow the custom of the country you are in is the first +golden rule of the traveller who would enjoy himself. + +It was about six o'clock, and darkness was closing in on the thick, +dust-filled air as we drove with the stream of other vehicles of all +descriptions, from the poorest hired carriage to the most splendidly +appointed barouche, into the Paseo, a wide, sweeping drive, lined each +side with trees and lighted with rows of electric arc-light lamps, +some of which glowed pinkly or sputtered out blue rays in the dusk. + +It has never seemed to me a very cheerful matter, this drive between +the lights in the formal Paseo, this great string of carriages drawn +mostly by poor unhappy horses and filled with dressed-up women who +stare rudely at each other as they pass and re-pass, solemn and silent +ghosts in a world of grey shadow! + +But the fashion amongst the Mexican women of painting and powdering to +an inordinate degree perhaps accounts for their love of this hour +between the lights, when they imagine the falseness of their +complexion cannot be detected. + +After about an hour's drive we came back, the great arc-lights now +sending their uncertain, shifting glare across the road and serving to +show the heavy dust through which we moved. Seen sideways, the ray of +light looked solid, so thick was the atmosphere. + +When we came back we dined, and then sat outside our window on the +iron balcony, looking down at the gay scene below. + +The street was fully lighted now by powerful lamps of electricity, +some belonging to the roadway, others hung out over restaurants and +shops. The latter were all open, having been closed through the middle +of the day. The cafes and restaurants were in full swing, half the +populace seemed in the street, either walking or driving. + +"We will go to a theatre as soon as they open," I said. "I don't think +any of them begin till half-past nine or ten." + +Suzee clapped her hands. + +"That will be nice, Treevor," she said. + +"I did like the theatre in Chinatown. I went with Nanine sometimes." + +So at half-past nine we drove to a theatre. The performance began at +ten o'clock and continued till one in the morning, with a break in the +middle for supper. + +It was a light musical farce, well acted and sung, and I enjoyed it. + +Suzee looked on profoundly silent, and seemed to be quite wide-awake +all through it. Just before one o'clock she leant to me and whispered: + +"When does the killing begin?" + +"Killing?" I returned. "I don't think there'll be any, what do you +mean?" + +"Oh," she said, "in Chinese theatres there is always very much +killing; every one's head comes off at the end." + +I laughed. + +"You little monster," I whispered; "is that what you came to see?" +Suzee nodded. + +"All Chinese plays like that," she answered. + +We waited till the curtain fell, but there was no killing and all the +heads were left on at the end. Suzee looked quite disappointed, and +explained to me as we were driving away that that was no play at all. + +The next morning we were up very late, and after breakfast in our room +there was only time to drive out to the shops and buy for Suzee one of +the hats she coveted before luncheon. + +All Orientals have a wonderful, artistic instinct for fabrics and +colours, and always, when left alone, clothe themselves with exquisite +taste. But this instinct seems to desert them when brought amongst +European manufactures and into the sphere of European tints. Suzee now +chose an enormous white hat wreathed round with poppies and +cornflowers that I certainly should not have chosen for her. However, +it pleased and satisfied her, and she was in great good-humour in +consequence. + +I found some letters for me at the hotel, forwarded from the club. My +heart sank as I saw there was none from Viola. I thought she might +have written again.... + +There was one from a friend of mine who was attached to the embassy +here, and he asked me to go and dine with him that evening, or name +some other, if I were engaged that day. + +I looked up at Suzee. + +"I have an invitation here to go out to dinner," I said to her; "do +you think you can amuse yourself without me this evening?" + +Suzee looked sulky. + +"You are going out all the evening without me? Can't I come too?" + +"I am afraid not," I answered. + +"Why? Is it a woman you are going to?" + +"No, it is not," I answered a little sharply. + +How different this sulky questioning was from Viola's bright way of +assenting to any possible suggestion of mine for my own amusement or +benefit! + +How different from this her quick: + +"Oh yes, do go, Trevor, do not think about me, I shall be quite happy +looking forward to your coming back!" + +Suzee pushed out her lips. + +"How long will you be?" she asked. + +"I shall go just before seven and return about ten," I answered. "You +must get accustomed to amusing yourself. I can't always be with you." + +"I can amuse myself," returned Suzee sulkily. "All the same, I believe +it's a woman you are going to." + +The blood rushed over my face with anger and annoyance, but I +restrained myself and made no answer. She was so much of a child, it +seemed absurd to enter into argument or to get angry with her. + +I went back to reading my other letters and occupied myself with +answering them till luncheon. + +That evening about seven I was dressing for dinner, Suzee standing by +me or playing with my things and somewhat impeding me, as usual. She +seemed to have recovered from her ill-temper and was all smiles and +gay prattle. + +Before I took up my hat and coat to leave I bent over her and kissed +her. + +"You understand, I don't want you to leave this room till I come back. +They will bring up your dinner here, and you can sit on the balcony +and smoke, and you have lots of picture-books to amuse you. I shall be +back at ten." + +She kissed me and smiled and promised not to leave the room, and I +went out. + +I really enjoyed the evening with my friend. It was a relief to talk +again with one who possessed a full-grown mind after being so long +with a childish companion, and the time passed pleasantly enough. A +quarter to ten seemed to come directly after dinner and my companion +was astonished at my wanting to leave so early. + +I explained the situation in a few words and, of course, caused +infinite amusement to my practical friend. + +"The idea of you living with a Chinese infant like that!" he +exclaimed. "I shall hear of your being fascinated with a Hottentot +next, I suppose." + +"Maybe," I answered, putting on my hat. "Anyway, I must go now; thanks +all the same for wishing me to stay." + +I left him and walked rapidly back in the direction of the Iturbide. +Some of the shops were still open, and as I passed down the main +street the brilliant display in a jeweller's window, under the +electric light, attracted my attention. + +I paused and looked in. I thought I would buy and take back some +little thing to Suzee. It had been a dull evening for her. I went in +and chose a necklet of Mexican opals. These, though not so lovely as +the sister stone we generally buy in England, have a rich red colour +and fire all their own. + +I had not enough money with me to pay for it, but with that delightful +confidence in an Englishman--often unfortunately misplaced--one finds +in some distant countries, the shopman insisted on my taking it, and +said he would send to the hotel in the morning for the money. + +I slipped the case in my pocket and went on to the Iturbide. + +After all, I thought, as I neared home, with all her faults she was a +very attractive and dear little companion to be going back to. + +Full of pleasure at the thought of bestowing the gift and the joy it +would give her, I ran up the stone stairs without waiting for the lift +and pushed open the door of our room. + +I entered softly, thinking she might be curled up asleep, but as I +crossed the threshold I heard the sound of laughter. The next moment I +saw there were two figures standing at the end of the long room in +front of the window. + +Suzee had her back to me and a man was standing beside her. Just as I +came in I saw her raise her face, and the man put his arm round her +and kiss her. Two or three steps carried me across the room and I +struck them apart with a blow on the side of the man's head that sent +him reeling into a corner. + +It was the young Mexican waiter that had hitherto brought us all our +meals. + +The table was still covered with the dinner things, a bottle of wine +stood on it and two half-filled glasses. My impression, gathered in +that first furious glance, was that he had brought up her dinner and +she had invited him to stay and share at least the wine and +cigarettes. Some of these lay on the table, and the room was full of +smoke. + +Suzee gave a scream of terror and then crouched down on a chair, +looking at me. + +The waiter picked himself up, and, catching hold of his iron +stove-fitted basket in which he had brought up the dinner, slunk out +of the room. + +I was left alone with Suzee, and I looked at her, with an immense +sense of disgust and repulsion swelling up in me. + +"So you can't even be trusted an hour or two, it seems," I said +contemptuously, throwing myself into a chair opposite her. + +Suzee began to sob. Tears were her invariable refuge under all +circumstances. + +"Treevor, you were so long. I was all alone, and I was sure you were +with another woman." + +"If you would learn to believe what I say and not fancy every one +tells lies, as I suppose you do," I answered hotly, "it would be a +great deal better for you. I went to dine with a bachelor friend this +evening, as I told you, and what made me later than I otherwise should +have been was that I stopped to buy a present for you on my way back." + +Suzee's tears dried instantly. + +"A present! Oh, what is it, Treevor?" she said eagerly. "Do show it +me. Where is it?" + +I drew the case out of my pocket and opened it. The electric light +flashed on the opals, and they blazed with orange and tawny fires on +the white velvet. + +Suzee gave a little cry of wonder and delight, and then sat staring at +them breathlessly. + +"I don't feel at all inclined to give them to you now," I remarked +coldly. + +"Oh, yes, Treevor, _do_ let me have them. It was all the man's fault. +I did not want him. I could not help it." + +"I heard you laughing as I came in," I returned, more than ever +disgusted by her lies and her throwing all the blame on her companion. +"It's no use lying to me, Suzee, you found that out at Sitka. What I +want to make clear to you is this: if I find you doing this sort of +thing again I shall send you away from me altogether, because I won't +have it." + +Suzee looked terror-stricken. + +"Send me away! But what could I do? Where could I go?" + +"Where you pleased! You would not live any more with me." + +"Well, Treevor, I will not do it any more," she answered, her eyes +fixed on the jewels. "Do let me have the necklace. May I put it on?" + +And she stretched out her hand to grasp it from the table where I had +laid it. Her avarice, her lack of any real deep feeling about the +matter, filled me with irrepressible anger. + +I sprang to my feet and snatched the necklet up, case and all, and +flung it through the window. + +"No, you shall certainly not have it," I exclaimed. + +Suzee gave a shriek of pain and dismay as she saw the beloved jewels +flash through the air and disappear in the darkness, and rushed to the +window as if she would jump after them. + +Fearing she might call to the passers-by below and create a +disturbance, I took her by the shoulder and pulled her back into the +room. + +Then I shut the window and bolted it above her head. + +I walked over to the door of the room. + +"You had better go to bed," I said; "do not wait for me, I shall sleep +elsewhere." + +Then I went out and locked the door behind me, putting the key in my +pocket. + +I went down the passage slowly. My heart was beating fast and I felt +angry, but the anger was not that deep fierce agony of emotion I had +felt at times when Viola angered or grieved me. + +It was more a superficial sensation of disgust and repulsion that +filled me, and, after a few minutes, I grew calm and recovered my +self-possession. + +"What could I expect from a girl like this?" I asked myself. "What +could I expect but lies and deceit and trickery and infidelity? She +had shewn me all these at Sitka when I first met her." + +I had been willing enough to profit by them, but even then they had +disgusted me. Now I was in the position of Hop Lee, and as she had +treated him so would she treat me. It was true she professed to love +me, and did so in her way. But it was the way of the woman who is +bought and sold. + +And why should I feel specially repelled because I had found her with +a servant? Had she not come from a tea-shop in Sitka, where she +herself was serving? + +The Mexican boy was handsome enough. Doubtless he presented a +temptation to her. + +It was all my own fault, everything that had happened or would happen, +for choosing such an unsuitable companion. The light loves of an hour +with painted butterflies such as Suzee are well enough, but for life +together one must seek and find one's equal, one who sees with the +same eyes, who has the same standard as one's own of the fitness of +things, in whose veins runs blood of the same quality as one's own. + +Why had Viola left me? The thought came with a pang of anguish as my +heart called out for her. + +The corridor was a lofty one of stone. It was quite empty now and +unlighted. I walked on slowly in the dark till I came to a large +window on my right hand. This window overlooked a wide expanse of lead +roofs belonging to the lower stories of the hotel, and these commanded +a magnificent view of the whole city. + +I stepped out over the low sill and stood on the leads. The night was +soft and cool. The sky, full of the light of a rising moon, shewed +beautifully, against its luminous violet, the outlines of dome and +minaret and spire, and far out beyond the crowded city's confines, the +two incomparable mountains, Popocatepetl and Ixtaccihuatl, the huge +volcanoes, shrouded in eternal snow, rising a sheer ten thousand feet +from the level plain, standing like sentinels guarding the city. + +It was a magnificent panorama that surrounded me, a view to remember +for all time. Dome upon dome, rising one behind the other, of all +sizes and shapes, their beautiful tiles gleaming here and there as the +light from the rising moon touched them, delicate spires, pointing +upwards, tipped with silver light, low roof of the commoner's dwelling +and pillared facade of old and stately palace intervening, and, far +away, those cold white, solitary peaks overtopping all else, rising +into the region of the stars, made up a grand, impressive scene. + +As I looked all sense of petty annoyance dropped from me. I walked +forwards with a grateful sense of relief and took my seat on a +projecting ledge of one of the roofs and let my eyes wander over the +maze of dim outlines and shapes below me. + +How strange it was to think of the past history of the city! + +Far back in the dim ages, a clear and glorious lake had lain here +where now the city reared itself so majestically. In the centre of +this vast table-land, eight thousand feet above the sea, the blue +waters rested tranquilly, reflecting in their surface the fires and +the flames of those now silent, burnt-out volcanoes. + +The lake was inhabited by the lake-dwellers, quaint little people +living in their curious structures built on poles sunk in the water. +There they fished and made their nets and traded with each other, +passing backwards and forwards in their tiny dug-outs--whole crafts +made from a single hollowed-out log--on the gleaming waters, secure +from the raids of wild beasts or savages that the black, impenetrable +forests on the shore might harbour. + +Then came the Toltecs and the Aztecs with their refinement, their +civilisation, and the lake dried gradually through the years, and +causeways were built across the swamp, and one by one dwellings +appeared on the hardest, driest places, and step by step there grew to +be a city. Then came the Spaniards in later days, with the flaming +pomp of religion and the loathsome spirit of cruelty. They killed the +people by thousands with torture, and set up their churches to peace +and good-will. They overthrew the temples with murder and slaughter, +and reared altars to the Most High on the blood-soaked earth. + +And this city, as we see it to-day, with its countless beautiful +churches, its exquisite tiled domes flashing in the sun, is the work +of the Spaniards. And each church stands there to commemorate their +awful crimes. + +I sat on, as the hours passed, and watched the moon rise till it +poured its flood of silver light all over the city, sat thinking on +the horror of man and wondering what strange law has fashioned him to +be the devil he is. + +Towards sunrise, the wind blew cold off the marshes round the city, +and I went in and down to the lower floor of the hotel. + +Its world was fast asleep. In the hall I saw two Mexican porters in +their thin white clothes, curled up on the door mat, without covering +or pillow, fast asleep. + +I made my way to the little-used reception-room, found my way across +it to a wide old couch, threw myself upon it, and closed my eyes. The +couch smelt musty and the room seemed cold, but I was accustomed to +sleep anyhow and anywhere, and in a few moments, with my thoughts on +Viola, I drifted into oblivion. + +At breakfast time the next day I went to the administrador and told +him to send up ours by another waiter, and never to allow the former +one to come into our room again. Then I went upstairs to Suzee. As I +unlocked the door and entered I saw she was up and dressed. She came +to me, looking white and frightened. + +"Oh, Treevor, do forgive me, I never will again. Only say you forgive +me. I was so frightened all last night, I thought you had locked me up +here to starve." + +Again the absence of deep feeling, of any ethical consideration +prompting her contrition, jarred upon me. She would be good because +she did not want to starve or be otherwise punished. That was her view +of it, and that alone. + +I bent over her, took her hand, and kissed her. + +"We needn't think of it any more," I said gently. "Only you must +remember if such a thing occurs again, we cease to live together, +that's all." + +Suzee reiterated her promises with effusion, and presently an old, +grey-haired waiter appeared with our breakfast. + +I could not repress a smile as I saw the administrador had determined +to be on the safe side this time. + +Suzee was extremely amiable and docile all that day. + +Most women who do not shew gratitude for kindness and consideration, +when the man retaliates or shews any harshness, begin to improve +wonderfully; while a delicate nature like Viola's, that responds to +love and gives devotion in return, would meet that same harshness with +passionate resentment. Suzee sincerely mourned her lost jewels and +gazed wistfully and furtively down into the street where they had +gone in the darkness. + +I paid the bill for them that day, but I never knew what became of +them, nor whose neck they now adorn! + +The following day was Sunday, the day appointed by the Prince of +Peace, and dedicated here by his followers, the Christians, to the +torture and slaughter of their helpless companions in this world--the +animals. Sunday, throughout Mexico, is the day most usually fixed for +a bull-fight, and to-day there was going to be one, and Suzee had +begged me to take her to see it. + +I had hesitated, but finally given in, and taken seats for it. + +I felt a strong disinclination to witnessing what I knew would be +merely another example of the loathsome barbarity of the human race, +but it was my rule in life to see and study its different aspects, to +add to my knowledge of it whenever possible, and so I consented with a +sense of repulsion within me. Suzee was in the wildest delight. She +had talked to the waiter, it seemed, and had heard from him wonderful +stories of the big crowds of gaily dressed people in the large ring, +of the music, of the gaily dressed toreadors, of the clapping of hands +and the shouting. + +"And you feel no sympathy with the bull that is going to be killed or +the unfortunate horses?" I asked, looking across at her as we sat at +luncheon. + +Suzee looked grave. + +"I didn't think of that," she said. + +The great fault of the less guilty half of humanity--it does not +think! and the other half thinks evil. + +"Well, think now," I said sharply. "Would you like to have your inside +torn out for a gaping crowd to laugh at, to be tortured to death for +their Sunday diversion? For that is what you are going to see +inflicted on the animals this afternoon." + +Suzee regarded me with a frightened air. + +Presently she said, glibly: + +"Of course not, Treevor, and I am very, very sorry for the poor +animals if they are going to be hurt." + +"Of course they are," I said shortly; "that is what the whole city is +going to turn out to see." + +I felt she had no real appreciation of the subject, and that any +sympathetic utterance would be made to please me. How I hate being +with a companion who automatically says what will please me! A servile +compliance that one knows is false is more irritating to a person of +intellect than contradiction. + +How different Viola had always been! In physical relations she had +accepted me as her owner, master, conqueror. She had never sought to +deny or evade or resent the physical domination Nature has given the +male over the female. But her mind had been always her own. And what a +glorious strength and independence it possessed! Not even to me would +she ever have said what she did not believe. + +Like the old martyrs, she would have given herself to the rack or the +flames rather than let her lips frame words her brain did not approve. + +Her mind and her opinions were her own, not to be bought from her at +any price whatever, and, as such, they were worth something. + +The assent or dissent of the fool who agrees or disagrees from fear or +love is worth nothing when you've got it. + +We finished our luncheon and then, in a hired carriage, drove to the +Plaza de Toros. + +I, with a feeling of cold depression, Suzee, gaily dressed and in the +highest spirits. + +All the city was streaming out in splendid carriage or miserable shay. +Rich and cultured, poor and illiterate, human beings are all alike in +their love of butchery and blood. We reached the great ragged stretch +of open ground, hideous and bare enough, and the structure of the +bull-ring reared itself before us, a sinister curve against the +laughing blue of the sky. + +It seemed to hum like a great hive already; there was a crowd of the +poorer class about it, and men came continually in and out of the +little doors in its base. + +We dismissed our carriage at the outer edge of the ragged ground, the +driver insisting he could drive no farther. And the moment we had +alighted he turned his horses' heads and started them at a furious +gallop back to the city in the hope of catching another fare. + +We walked forwards towards the principal of the wickets through which +already the people were passing to their seats. In approaching the +bull-ring we had to pass by a circle of little buildings, low dens +with small barred windows and closed doors. Blood was trickling from +under some of these over the brown and dusty earth, and the low, heavy +breathing and groans of a horse in agony came from one or another at +intervals. + +I looked through the grated slit of one, as I passed, and saw two men, +or, rather, fiends in the shape of men, crouched on the floor of the +dark and noisome den. Between them lay outstretched the body of a +horse, old and thin, worn to the last gasp in the cruel service of the +streets. On its flank was a long open wound. One of the men, bending +over it, had a red-hot iron glowing in his hand. What they were going +to do I could not tell, and I did not wait to see. + +The horse was one, doubtless, which unhappily had survived last +Sunday's bull-fight, and was being horribly patched up, terribly +stimulated by agony to expend its last spark of vitality in this. + +In these loathsome little dens this fiendish work goes on, the poor +mangled brutes are brought out from the ring, their gaping wounds are +plugged with straw, or anything that is at hand, and then they are +thrust back on to the horns of the bull. + +More than ever filled with loathing of my kind, I passed on in silence +towards the ring. + +It was no use speaking to Suzee. She could not understand what I felt. +I thought of Viola. If she had been here, what would she have +suffered? Of all women I had met, I had never known one who had the +same exquisite compassion, the same marvellous sympathy for all living +things as she had. + +We shewed our tickets, passed through the wicket, and were inside the +vast circle. + +The impression on the eye as one enters is pleasing, or would be if +one's brain were not there to tell one of the scenes of infamy that +take place in that grand arena. + +Wide circles, great sweeping lines have always a certain fascination, +and the form that charms one in the coliseum is here also in these +modern imitations. + +The huge arena, empty now and clean, sprinkled with fine white sand, +and with circle after circle, tier after tier of countless seats +rising up all round, cutting at last the blue sky overhead, is in +itself impressive. + +We passed to our seats, which were a little low down, not much raised +above the level of the boarding running round the arena. + +They were on the coveted shady side of the ring, where the sun would +not be in our eyes. On the left of us was the President's box; +opposite, the seats of the common people, let cheap, because the sun's +rays would fall on them through all the afternoon. + +These were already full. Occupied by _women_, largely _women_. Dressed +in their gayest, with handkerchiefs in their hands ready to wave, with +brightly painted fans, they sat there laughing, talking, eating +sweets, making the ring in that quarter a flare of colour. + +Women! Ah, what a pity it is that there should be such women as these, +stony-hearted, stony-eyed, deaf to the dictates of mercy, of pity. +Women who can congregate with delight to see a fellow-creature die! + +For what are the animals but our fellow-creatures? With the same life, +the same heart-beats as our own! With whom, if we acted rightly, we +should share this world in kindly fellowship and love. + +The other seats in the shade were filling quickly; soon the whole mass +of dizzy circles, one above the other, flamed with brilliant colour +under the Mexican sun. + +Suddenly, with a great crash, the music burst out, and a triumphal +march rolled over the arena as the President and his party arrived and +took their places in their box. The people cheered and the +handkerchiefs were waved, for the President is popular. + +Suzee sat in the greatest glee beside me. The vast concourse of +people, the lavish colour, the loud, gay, strident music, the sea of +faces and clapping hands and waving kerchiefs pleased her childish +little soul. + +After a few moments the music changed, and to a slow, almost solemn +march, the toreadors filed slowly in to the arena and bowed before the +President's box. + +A burst of applause greeted their appearance, and Suzee watched +entranced these men parading in the ring, in their various red, blue, +and green velvet costumes fitting tightly their fine figures, with +their gorgeous cloaks of red velvet thrown over one arm and the flat +round hats of the toreadors sitting lightly above their bold handsome +faces. + +They disappeared, there was a pause in the music, the great arena +stood empty, the vast audience were silent, a few moments of waiting +expectancy, then one of the low doors opposite us in the inner circle +flew open, shewing a long black tunnel leading into darkness. From +this came confused roarings and bellowings, and then with his head +flung high and his great eyes starting with pain and rage from the +goadings he had received, a glorious black Andalusian bull charged +into the arena. The people, delighted at his size and strength and +apparent ferocity, cheered and applauded loudly while, still further +excited by the sudden glare of light and the deafening noise, the +creature galloped round the sandy ring. + +Jet-black, sleek-coated, and with a long pair of slender, tapering +horns, sharply pointed, crowning his great head, he was a magnificent +animal, far finer in make and shape than any of these brutes round him +who had come to see him die. As he galloped round the ring, I saw that +he was looking wildly, eagerly, for somewhere to escape. The animals +have no innate savagery, as man has. They do not love inflicting pain, +torture, and death upon others. That vile instinct has been given to +man alone. They kill for food. They fight for their mates. But no +animal fights or kills for the love of blood as we do. + +And now this great monarch of the hills and plains, in all the pride +and glory of his strength, had no wish to attack or kill; he bounded +round and across the sandy space hoping to find some outlet, longing +to be again upon his wild Andalusian hills he was never to see again. + +Another burst of music, a great fanfare of trumpets, and then slowly +in triumphal procession the picadors, mounted bull-fighters with +lances, entered the ring. + +Theoretically, when these men enter, the savage beast they are +supposed to be encountering immediately makes a terrible charge upon +them; but, as a matter of fact, the bull never wishes to fight or +attack any one, and does not, until his brutal captors absolutely +force him into doing so. That is why a bull-fight, as well as being +hideously degrading and cruel, is also dull and tedious. + +If one were watching the grand natural passion of an animal fighting +for his life on the prairie, against another, with an equal fortune of +war for both, there would be excitement in it. But in this case one +sees an unwilling animal tortured into a fight, which it neither seeks +nor understands, and which it has from the start no chance of winning. + +In this case, as in all I have seen, the beautiful Andalusian, having +made his gallop round the ring and finding no chance of escape, had +subsided into a quiet trot and when the picadors entered he stood +still, demurely regarding them from the opposite side of the arena. + +The sunlight fell full upon him, on his glossy sides and grand head, +from which the noble, lustrous brown eyes looked out with benign and +gentle dignity on the great multitude, the sandy space, and the +picadors who were stealing slowly up to him. + +It is a difficult matter for the picador to approach the bull, for the +horses shrink from the awful fate awaiting them, and only by plunging +great spurs into their sides can their riders get them to advance. + +Anything more unutterably cowardly and despicably mean than the +picador can hardly be imagined. Riding a poor, aged horse, generally +one that has been wounded in a previous combat, and that is +absolutely naked of all protection from the bull's horns, he is +himself cased from head to foot in metal and leather, so that by no +possibility can he be scratched. + +He comes into the ring with the deliberate intention of riding his +tottering, naked horse on to the horns of the bull, and the greater +number of these helpless creatures he can get mangled and +disembowelled under him, the greater and finer picador he is and the +more the people love him. Such is humanity! + +On this afternoon the bull eyed the horses' approach with no ill-will, +he seemed to be reflecting--"Perhaps these are friends of mine and +will show me the way out." But when at last the picador, having +spurred his flinching horse close up to the bull's side, jabbed at his +glossy neck with his lance and the pain convinced the great monarch +they were hostile, he threw up his head with a snort and in a lithe, +agile bound he passed by them and trotted quietly away. + +This enraged the people, and screams of "Coward! Coward!" went up from +all parts of the ring. + +How they can twist into any semblance of cowardice the benignity of an +animal that scorns to take any notice of what it sees is a feeble and +puny opponent is amazing, a fit illustration of the weakness of the +human intellect. + +As the bull continued his gentle trot, unmoved, the audience grew +furious, and then began that tedious and utterly sickening chase of +the unwilling bull by the faltering and unwilling horses. + +The bull, conscious of his great strength and absolutely fearless, had +all that chivalry which seems inherent in animals and which is quite +lacking in man in his attitude to them. + +As the unfortunate horses were ridden up to and across the face of the +bull, he did his best to avoid them. Over and over again the picadors +stabbed him with their lances and thrust their naked horses at his +head, but his whole attitude and manner said plainly: "Why should I +toss these poor old, trembling horses? I have no quarrel with them. I +could kill them in a minute, but I don't want to." + +The screaming fiends above him yelled and cursed and tore pieces of +wood from the seats to throw at him. Insults and invectives were +showered on the picadors, until at last one of them, stung by the +filthy abuse of the mob, drove his spurs so deep into his horse that +the animal reared a little; the picador then, with spur and knee, +almost lifted him on to the long pointed horns of the bull, who, +forced back against the hoarding, had lowered his head in anger as the +blood streamed from the lance wounds in his neck. + +Then there was the horrid, low sound of grating horn against the ribs +of the horse, the ripping of the hide; the animal was lifted into the +air a moment, then fell. There was a gush of blood on the sand, blood +and entrails; with a groan it staggered quivering to its feet, made a +step forwards, trod on its own trailing, bleeding insides, fell again, +groaning with anguish, quivering convulsively. + +The people were delighted. They shouted and screamed and stood up on +their seats and waved their kerchiefs, especially the women! + +The picador, who picked himself up unhurt--indeed, cased in armour, he +could not well be otherwise--was cheered and cheered, and bowed and +smiled and took off his cap and swept it to the ground. And the band +crashed loudly to drown the terrible groaning of the dying horse, +struggling in agony on the sand. The bull, sorry rather than otherwise +apparently, walked away to another part of the ring, tossing his head +in pain as the blood dripped from it. + +The people clapped delightedly. Suzee seeing all the women about her +doing so, put up her little hands and clapped too. + +I bent towards her and caught them and held them down in her lap. + +"Be quiet," I said; "I won't have you clap such a disgusting sight." + +She stopped at once. A Mexican woman on my other hand, looked daggers +at me for an instant, divining my words, but she was too eager to see +all the blood and the anguish in the arena, not to miss a throe of the +dying horse, to turn her eyes away for more than a moment. + +So, after a scowl at me, she directed them again, bulging with +satisfaction, on the scene before her. + +From then on, for about an hour, the same hideous thing went on; horse +after horse was brought forward, pushed on the horns of the bull, torn +and mangled beneath its cowardly rider, and then, if completely ripped +open, dragged dead or dying from the ring; if its wound was not large +enough to cause instant death, stuff or straw was thrust into it by +the attendants and the dying animal kicked, lashed, and dragged to its +feet to be thrown again on to the sharp horns amidst the shouts and +laughs of the delighted crowd. + +Once, in a general melee, when the bull and several picadors were in a +tangled mass at one side of the ring, I saw one of these horses, +terribly wounded, with its life pouring from it, emerge from the +conflict and stagger unnoticed to the hoarding. + +It came close to the wall of the ring and looked over; its glazed, +anguished eyes gazed from side to side as if asking: "Is there no +escape, no mercy anywhere?" + +A spectator on the audience side of the hoarding raised his hand and +struck it between the eyes. It tottered, staggered, and sank within +the ring. + +Eight horses had now been rendered useless, the arena was black and +red with blood, in spite of the assiduous sprinkling of fresh sand, +and there was a pause in the entertainment. The picadors had had their +turn, the banderilleros were ready to appear, but the people were +thoroughly enjoying themselves now and they stamped and roared +"Caballos" till they were hoarse. That horrid cry for more and more +horses to be produced that alarms the administrador, or manager, of +the bull-fight. + +In vain the attendants lashed and goaded the dying horses in the +arena. They could not get them to their feet again. There is a limit +to man's sway, the tortured life at last escapes him. The bodies were +dragged away, more sand, and then the administrador himself, pale as +ashes, stepped out before the audience howling for more blood. + +"Senors," he commenced, "it is impossible to supply more than eight +horses for one bull; there are five more bulls to be dispatched. They +are more savage than this one. I must keep horses for them. Let the +senors be reasonable and allow the show to continue." + +At this promise of five more bulls there was general applause. The +band rolled out fresh music. There was a thunder of drums and the +banderilleros came on, gorgeous in velvet, glittering in spangle and +tinsel. + +The bull is weary now and has lost much of his blood; as from the +first, he only longs to escape from this ring, and the mad monkeys who +are gibing and gibbering at him in it. They came forward with their +fresh weapons, shafts and arrows of iron decked up with coloured +ribbons, which they throw at him and which stick on his shoulders and +in his sides, drawing streams of blood wherever they strike him. + +Maddened by those, he rushes at the flaming coats the men trail before +his eyes; but the cruel little, dancing, monkey-like man with the +cloak darts away before he can be touched, and at last, after repeated +rushes and repeated failures, the grand creature stands still, wearied +and disdainful, his head erect, the blood flowing from his wounds in +which the darts move, swaying to and fro each time he stirs, causing +him an agony he cannot understand. So he faces the great crowded ring +contemptuously, and the people shout at him and call him a coward and +scream for the espada to come and dispatch him. + +The banderilleros retire: they have weakened the bull so that there is +now no danger for the puny little two-legged creature who struts in +next with a sword, and who is greeted with plaudits and triumphal +music. Flowers are thrown him, bouquets, the men call him hero, the +women throw kisses to him. + +He bows to the President, then turns towards the bull who stands +erect still, though the loss of blood must be telling upon him, stands +with that same air of deadly _ennui_, of weary scorn of all this folly +which he has possessed from the first. Dusty and blood-stained his +glossy coat, bloodshot his great lustrous eyes. As he looks round the +circle already growing dim to them, does he long for his green +Andalusian pastures, does he see again those pleasant streams by which +his herd is wandering? + +The little manikin sidles up and jabs him behind the shoulder with his +sword. The bull turns upon him, and he runs for his life. But the bull +does not deign to follow. With a great show of precaution where there +is really no danger, the little man with the sword approaches again. +Amidst cheers from the onlookers he plunges his sword between the +shoulders of the dying monarch and then rushes backwards. The great +beast sways, shivers in mortal anguish for a moment, and then without +a sound sinks, for the first time in this cruel and unequal combat, to +his knees. Sinks, full of a superb dignity to the end, and one asks +oneself--"What _can_ the scheme of creation be that gives a creature +so clean-souled, so grand, into the power of such a miserable mass of +vile lusts as man?" + +A moment more and the head crowned with its tapering crescent horns +sinks forwards. A gush of blood from the nostrils on the sand, and it +is over. The glossy form is still--at peace. + +With ridiculous manoeuvres the little man comes up again to the great +beast, obviously dead and harmless, and withdraws his sword which he +waves triumphantly before the applauding populace. + +While he capers about before his delighted admirers, the attendants +come in and draw away with some difficulty the magnificent form of the +slaughtered bull. + +The music broke into a loud march. There was an interval of relaxation +for the audience, to move, look about, chatter, and take refreshments. + +"This is the end," I said to Suzee; "let us go now." + +"Oh, but Treevor, that man said he had five more bulls, look, nobody +is going yet," she returned, having evidently followed in her own +sharp way the sense of the Spanish speech of the administrador. + +"Do you want to see any more?" I asked. "I think it is dull and +tedious, as well as horrible." + +"The killing is not nice," she said, in deference to my opinions, I +suppose; "but the music and the people are fun, I think. Do let us +stay for one more fight. You won't want to bring me again." + +"No, I certainly shan't," I answered. + +"Then do let me stay now, Treevor, just one more time." + +I shrugged my shoulders and sat back in my seat, and after a second +the little door opposite opened and another bull, this time apparently +mad with pain, dashed into the ring. + +The people applauded him and the shouts and clappings increased his +excitement. + +He bounded at full gallop across the sandy space and charged the +hoarding that hemmed him in. + +The audience were delighted, but the toreadors entered the ring and +stood together at one side, looking anxious, and some of the +attendants came up and received orders from them. + +From the first the animal was unmanageable, out of all control. The +goading and the enraging that goes on in the dens behind the arena had +been overdone apparently, for the bull, wild with rage and pain, +galloped madly round, taking no notice of the pallid group of +toreadors. + +At last one or two came forward with their cloaks of scarlet; the bull +made a dash at them, scattering them on either side, then bounded on +and with one tremendous leap cleared the hoarding that separates +spectators from the rings, and landed bellowing in the corridor that +ran round it just below our seats. It was full of onlookers drawn +nearer than usual to the hoarding by the excitement, and they +scattered and fled in all directions, while shriek upon shriek went up +from the women all round us as they saw the bull clear the hoarding +and come down amongst them. + +With one accord they stood up. Like a great wave breaking, they rushed +upwards to the highest part of the ring, shrieks and screams on every +side telling of the trampled children and injured women in the frantic +panic. + +Suzee rose with the rest, livid and trembling, and would have rushed +after that seething mass behind us, if I had not seized her arm and +forced her back to her seat. + +"Sit down, stay where you are," I said; "the bull will do you less +harm than that trampling horde." + +We were left there alone; groans and cries came from the +panic-stricken, struggling mass of people behind us; just beneath us +in the emptied corridor stood the bull, snorting with lowered head, +pawing the ground; in the arena, the administrador, green with terror +and anxiety, shouted commands to the pallid and trembling attendants. + +I sat still, holding Suzee. The bull paused for a moment in front of +us, then with his head lowered almost to the ground, made a terrific +rush forwards, shattering the woodwork of the platform at our feet to +atoms with his horns. Suzee gave a piercing shriek and fell across me, +unconscious. The animal, startled by the scream, raised its head. + +In its rolling eyes I saw nothing but the madness of pain and terror. +As it drew back for a second charge, in its mad effort to dash through +the woodwork to liberty, I slipped sideways with the dead weight of +Suzee on my arm, into the seats on one side. It was not an instant too +soon. The next, the bull rushed forwards and our seats were falling in +splinters about his head. Along, sideways, over chair after chair, I +slipped, dragging and supporting Suzee as best I could. I heard +screams of terror and suffering all round us as the panic spread +amongst the people and they forced themselves in an ever-increasing +mass upwards, fighting their way to the exits at the top of the ring. + +My mind was made up. All before me was clear and open, the seats +deserted, below me ran the corridor leading to the entrance by which +we had come in. For that I would make. + +There was some slight risk, for the bull, tired now of his futile +efforts to destroy the wooden barriers in front of him, had turned +back into the corridor and started on a mad gallop down it round the +ring. + +I must drop down into the corridor before I could arrive at the +entrance, and unless he were stopped he might meet us in the corridor +before I could reach the exit. But his arc of the circle was a long +one, mine to the exit was short, and, anyway, I preferred to chance +meeting him to trusting myself to the mercies of my own kind. + +I leapt down into the passage, and, lifting Suzee into my arms, passed +on rapidly to the wicket. + +There was no one there. I went through, out into the golden sunlight. + +Outside, the accident and the panic had not yet become known. I saw a +carriage, with its driver asleep upon the box, close to the main gate. +I went up to it, put Suzee in and spoke to the man. + +"The lady has fainted," I said; "drive us back to the Hotel Iturbide." + +The man, delighted at securing a fare so soon, seized the whip and +reins and drove away full tilt before one of the struggling wretches +in the bull-ring had succeeded in getting out. + +Suzee recovered consciousness just before we reached the hotel, but +when she had opened her eyes she closed them again instantly and +covered her face with her hands with a cry of terror. + +"Oh, Treevor, that awful bull; where is it now? It can't get at us, +can it?" + +"No, poor brute," I answered. "You are safe enough now, Suzee; you are +miles away from the bull-ring." + +She was trembling so much she could hardly walk up the stairs to our +room, and when we got there I made her go to bed while I sat by her +putting cold compresses on her head. She complained of such pain in +it, I was afraid that the fright and shock would do her serious harm. + +I sat up with her through the night, and towards morning she fell into +a tranquil sleep. + +I paced up and down the quiet room lighted only by the night light, +thinking over the horrid scene of the afternoon, and when it grew to +be day I was hungering so for a companion to speak to and to feel with +me, that I drew out my writing-case and wrote a long letter to Viola. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE WAY OF THE GODS + + +"But, Treevor, I am so very dull when you go out, and when you are +working it is as bad. I do miss my baby so to play with." + +"You did not strike me as a very devoted mother when I saw you at +Sitka," I answered. + +"Oh, Treevor, he was a very fine boy, and I took so much care of him. +Was he not a very large child?" + +"Yes, he certainly was, and with a dreadful voice and a furious +temper. It's no use worrying me, Suzee, about the matter. I dislike +children very much, and I do not wish nor intend to have any of my +own." + +Suzee began to cry in the easy way she had. She seemed able to +commence and leave off just when she chose. + +"You are a little goose," I said jestingly. "You don't know when you +are well off. For months and months you would be ill and disfigured, +unable to come about with me or be my companion, unable to sit to me +for my painting, and afterwards the child would be an unendurable tie +and burden. Besides, as I say, I have an intense dislike to children +and could never live with one anywhere near me. I am afraid, if you +want them, you must go away from me, to some one who has your views." + +Suzee came over to where I was sitting and knelt beside my chair, +clasping both hands round my arm. + +"Treevor," she said, almost in a whisper, "you are so beautiful with +your straight face, every line in it is so straight, quite straight; +and your black hair and your dark eyes and your dark eyebrows. I want +that for my baby. I want a son just like you; he must be just like +you, and then I should be so happy." + +As she spoke, the lines of a poetess flashed across me, indistinctly +remembered--"beauty that women seek after ... that they may give to +the world again." + +Was this the reason of woman's love of beauty in men? Ah, not with all +women! Viola loved beauty, as I did, as all artists do, as they love +their art, for itself alone. + +I stroked her smooth shining hair, gently, and shook my head, smiling +down upon her. + +"Do you not value my love for you?" I asked. + +"Oh yes, yes; you know I do." + +"Well, then understand this: you would utterly and entirely lose it if +you became a mother." + +Suzee shrank away from me. + +"But why, Treevor? Hop Lee was so pleased with me...." + +"Men have different tastes. And it is well they have, or the world +would be worse than it is. Some men like children and domesticity and +sick-nursing and childish companionship; I don't. I like health and +beauty, and love and intellect about me, and women who are straight +and slim and can inspire my pictures. That's why, Suzee, and I don't +see any reason why I shouldn't gratify my tastes as they do theirs. +There are plenty of men in the world who like being fathers of +families; the world can well allow an artist to give it his art +instead." + +"Oh yes, Treevor, of course; but I am so sorry. I am so dull without a +baby." + +We were sitting together in a light balcony of one of the hotels at +Tampico, and the subject of our conversation was one which had come up +many times between us lately. + +Some months had slipped by since the accident in the bull-ring. Suzee +had recovered from the shock with a few day's rest and care, and as +soon as she was better we had started on a tour through the country +places of Mexico, and as it grew colder we had worked downwards to the +gulf of Vera Cruz in the Tierra Caliente, or Hot Lands, and now were +making a stay here on the coast, caught by the beauty of palm and sea +and shore. + +Suzee, though apparently she had all that most young women covet, had +been for some time restless and dissatisfied, and the reason soon +appeared in conversations like that of to-day. + +"Come along," I said, getting up; "see what a lovely evening it is, +let's go for a walk along the seashore." + +Suzee looked round at the translucent green bell of the sky that hung +over us, disapprovingly. + +"It's always fine weather," she said, rather sulkily; "and there's +nothing to see on that old shore." + +"Nothing to see!" I exclaimed in sheer amazement. Then I stopped +short, remembering her indifference to all I valued, and added: "There +are most beautiful shells of every shape and colour, wouldn't you like +to get some of those?" + +Suzee's face brightened immediately. This idea took her fancy at once. +It appealed to her keen love of material things. Beauty in air and sky +was nothing to her; but something she could pick up and handle, become +possessed of, like the shells, deeply interested her. She rose at +once. + +"I had better take a basket, Treevor," she said, "to carry them back +in." And while she went to get it, I leant over the balcony-rail +musing on that great difference in character between woman and woman, +man and man. Humanity might almost be divided into those two great +parts--those who love and live in ideas; and those who love, and are +wholly concerned with, material things. + +She came back in a moment with a basket swinging in her hand. It had +not seemed so necessary here in Mexico that she should dress in +Western clothes, so she had gradually relapsed into her gaily coloured +silks and embroidered muslins and Zouave jackets. This style of +dressing suited the tropical climate, and the convenances of Europe +and America were too far off for anything to matter much here. It gave +her constant occupation, too, the making of her costumes; for she was +marvellously quick and dexterous with her needle, and if I gave her +the silks she fancied she made them into dainty forms and embroidered +them with the greatest skill. As she came back now with her basket the +light fell softly on her lilac silk, all worked with gold thread, and +on her pretty bare head with its block of black shining hair. + +We started for the shore, Suzee all animation now and chattering on +the possibility of sewing sea-shells into gold tissue or muslin. + +The sky all round and overhead was palest green and strangely +luminous, the sea before us stretched to the far horizon in tones of +gentlest mauve and violet, beneath our feet was the firm brown sand +for miles and miles unrolled like a glossy, sepia carpet. On one side +broke the tiny waves in undulating lines of white; on the other, the +wild sand-dunes, grown over with rough grass and waving cocoanut +palms, came down towards the sea. + +We walked on, both contented. I, in the strange colouring and the warm +salt breath in the air, that stirred the palm leaves till they tossed +joyfully in it; she, in the absorbing pursuit of the shells which lay +along the sand, positively studding it, like jewels, with colour. The +tide had recently gone down over the shore where we walked and left +them radiant, gleaming with moisture in the low light of the sun, pink +and scarlet, deepest purple and gold. She ran ahead of me, picking +them up and filling her basket rapidly. I walked on slowly, thinking, +while my eyes wandered over that shining, palpitating, gently heaving +violet sea. She had given herself to me entirely--and what beauty she +had to give! And yet she had failed to chain me to her in any way, +greatly though she pleased my senses. It is, after all, something in +the soul of a woman, in her inner self, that has the power of throwing +an anchor into our soul and holding it captive. Mere beauty throws its +anchor into the flesh, and after a time the flesh gives way. + +In a little while Suzee came running back to me; her basket was full +to overflowing: she was quite happy. + +"Take me up in your arms and kiss me," she said. "Look, Treevor, we +are all alone. What a great, great beach it is here, with not another +soul to see anywhere." + +As she said, the firm brown plain of glistening sand stretched behind +us and before us with not another footfall to disturb its silence, +the wide white sand-dunes were deserted, the palms tossed their +greeting to the sea through the glory of calm evening light. + +"Let us lie under those palms now; I am tired," she said as I kissed +her. And we went together and lay down under the palms on a ragged +tussock of grass, and the light fell and grew deeper in tone round us +and the amethystine sea, flushed with colour, swayed and heaved, +murmuring its low eternal song by our side. + +A great vulture flapped heavily by and perched on a sand-hill not far +from us, eyeing us somewhat askance, and some sea-gulls circled over +us--otherwise we were undisturbed. + +The following day we planned to come down the river Tamesi, which +flows out at Tampico. We could not go up by boat, as the river was in +flood and nothing could make headway against it, but the natives were +adepts at steering a boat down with the rapid current, and knew how to +handle it on the top of the flood. + +We took the train some distance up the line, and alighted at a place +where the river flowed by between high banks and where boats could be +had from the villagers. + +It was a perfect, cloudless day, and we reached our destination in the +sweet fresh early hours of the morning. A walk through the tiny +Mexican village brought us to the bank of the river where the Tamesi +flowed by, heavily, grandly, in all the majesty of its flood. + +The waters were brown and discoloured, but the sun glinting on its +ripples turned them into gold, and the tamarisk on the bank drooped +over it, letting its long strands float on the gliding water. + +A little way down the bank, moored to the side, rocked a boat, of +which the outline delighted me, and, to Suzee's annoyance, I stood +still and drew out my note-book to make a sketch of it. + +It appeared to be the larger half of one immense tree of which the +inside had all been hollowed out, both ends were raised and pointed +and, in the centre, four bent bamboo poles, inclined together, +supported a finely plaited wicker-work screen, which shielded a patch +about two yards square in the boat from the burning rays of the sun. + +I finished the sketch in a few minutes, and we went on towards the +boat; its owners, two Mexican Indians, were sitting on the bank +engaged in mending one of their paddles. They were quite naked except +for their loin cloths, and their bare, brown crouching figures gave +the last touch of suggested savagery to the scene. The red, earthy +banks of the river stretched before us desolate and sunburnt; the +swollen, muddy river itself rolled swiftly and heavily along, silent, +impressive; the dug-out, looking like a craft of primeval times, +rocked and swayed noiselessly on the flood; the naked savages +crouched over their broken paddle beneath the waving tamarisk; the +sunlight fell torrid, blighting in its scorching heat, over all. The +scene, with its rough, fresh, vigorous barbarism, delighted me. I +slackened my pace and stood still again before disturbing or +interrupting the men. + +"Suzee," I said suddenly, "I admire this picture before us immensely. +I should like to see it in the Academy to cheer up jaded Londoners +next season. I should be glad to stop here to-day to paint it. We can +go down the river to-morrow." + +Suzee stared at me in dismay. + +"Oh, Treevor, you don't want to stay here all day, do you? It's so +hot, and there's nothing to do, and, we shall miss the fair at Tampico +to-night. You promised we should see it" + +I sighed. It was true, I had said something about the fair, but I had +forgotten it. Suzee, however, never forgot things of this sort and she +radically objected to any change being made in a programme. She did +not adapt herself quickly and easily to changed moods or +circumstances. + +Had Viola been with me, she would have said at once: + +"_Would_ you like to stay here instead of going on? Do let's stay, +then. We can go down the river any time." And had I suggested there +would be nothing for her to do, she would have answered: + +"Oh yes, I shall enjoy sitting watching you." Her interest had always +lain in me, in her companion; to what we did she was indifferent; +provided we were together and I was pleased, she was content. It is +just this difference in women that makes it so delightful to live with +some, so impossible to live with others. There are some, very few, of +whom Viola was one, who delight in the society of the man they love, +who drink in pleasure for themselves from his enjoyment; there are +others, like Suzee, the majority, who are always at conflict with his +wishes in little things, striving after some independent aim or +project. + +And they wonder why, after a time, their companionship grows irksome +and they are deserted. They also wonder why sometimes the other woman +is adored and worshipped and grows into the inner life of a man till +he cannot exist without her. + +I felt then an extraordinary longing to be free from Suzee, to be +alone. Here was a picture, set ready to my hand. A scene we had come +upon accidentally and that, in its barbaric simplicity, was not easily +to be found again. It was strong, striking, original. I saw it before +my mind's eyes on the canvas already, with "On the Tamesi, Mexico" +written on the margin. + +How could she ask me to lose it? But I could not break my word, as she +chose to keep me to it. + +I said nothing, and, after a pause of keen disappointment, I walked +slowly on again towards the boat. + +The men were Indians, but they understood a little Spanish and I +bargained with them to take us down to Tampico where we should arrive +about seven the same evening, in time for the fruit-market and general +fair held in the Plaza. + +They were glad enough to take us as they were going down in any case +with a load of bananas and our fares would pay them well for the extra +space we took up in the boat. + +They hauled the dug-out to the bank and jumped in, clearing it of old +fruit baskets and arranging some rugs and mats under the shade of the +wicker screen. Behind that, to the stem, the boat was filled with the +rich yellow of the bananas, the ruddy pink of the plantains, and +mellow, translucent orange of the mangoes. They lay there in great +heaps, leaving only just space enough for the stem paddler to stand. + +The men motioned us to get in, which we did, and took our seats +cross-legged in the centre on the mats, beneath the awning; glad of +its shade, for the sun's rays grew fiercer every moment. + +I put my unused sketch-pad behind me, gazing back regretfully over the +yellow flood. The men pushed the boat out on to the waters and sprang +in themselves, each armed with a long paddle; one taking his stand in +front of us, one at the stern, and directed our little craft to the +centre of the huge and sullen stream. It rolled from side to side as +it shot out over the surface, but as soon as the men got their paddles +to work, evenly with long alternate strokes, the flood bore us along, +swiftly, smoothly, the dug-out floating steadily without rocking. + +The men stood, alert and watchful, on the lookout for submerged trees +and floating debris; for at the swift rate we were now floating, any +collision would have brought great danger. + +I leant back, watching the banks pass swiftly by, mile upon mile of +red earth and waving tamarisk under the scorching blue. Suzee seemed +more interested in the stalwart figure of our forward boatman and the +play of his fine muscles under the smooth brown skin of his shoulders +where the sun struck them. + +Had I loved her more I should have been angry; as it was, I was only +amused, and glad of anything that occupied her attention and relieved +me of the necessity of listening and replying to her childish chatter. + +How fast the boat sped on over the surface of the whirling stream that +rushed by those red banks, swift as the flash of life, hurrying on to +lose itself in the ocean as life hurries on to lose itself in the +infinite. + +The banks were getting flatter, here and there the stream widened, +the wild tamarisk, child of the desert, disappeared and gave way to +cultivated fields and wide tracts of the maguey plant, dear and +valuable to the Mexican as the date-palm to the East-Indian. Rough +yellow adobe huts stood here and there, their crude colouring of +unbaked mud turned into gold by that great painter, the tropical sun; +and sometimes a palm stood by a hut, cutting the fierce light blue of +the sky with its delicate, fine, curved, drooping branches; sometimes +the dark, glossy green of the organ cactus rose like jade pillars +beside it. All these sped by us quickly, though at times the scene was +so engaging I could have held it with my eyes; but ruthlessly we were +whirled forward and the scenes on the bank kept slipping behind us, +just as our dearest scenes and incidents in life keep slipping past, +swallowed up by the ever-pursuing distance. + +Our red banks had been growing flatter and flatter and now they seemed +to disappear, and the river instantly broadened itself out and spread +into a lake, as if glad of the expansion. Over each bank, far on +either side, it rolled itself out in great shining flats of water, +glittering and dazzling, impossible to look at in this hour of noon; +and as if tranquillity had come to it with its greater freedom, the +river flowed more slowly and gently. + +Our boatmen stood at ease at their paddles, pushing quietly along, +and I looked round with interest. We were in the centre of a great +lake in which here and there submerged trees and bushes made green +islands. An endless lake it seemed, a great waste of gleaming water. +We floated along gently like this for some time, and then almost +suddenly when I looked ahead, I saw the end of the lake was closing +in, there were woods and forests now upon its margin; a few more +strokes of the paddle and we were in shade, heavy, cool shade, where +the water gleamed with a bronze shimmer. Narrower still the lake end +became, the margins drew together, and with a swift push forwards, +like the bolt of a rabbit to its hole, our boat shot forwards into a +little tunnel of darkness before us over which the interlacing boughs +of the trees made a perfect arch. We were in the forest, and it was +dark and cool as it had been brilliant, dazzling with light and heat, +on the lake. A dim, green twilight reigned here, and the river went +with a swift, dark rush, past the roots of the overhanging trees. How +they stooped over the water! Swinging down, interlacing boughs from +which vine and flowering creeper trailed. The standing figure of the +boatman had to bend down and sway from side to side to avoid the +clinging wreaths or mossy boughs and be wary with his paddle to escape +the snags projecting from the banks. + +How grand the great spanning arches of the trees were, above our +heads! Finer than any cathedral roof wrought by man. How soft the +luminous green twilight seemed in the long aisle! And constantly from +bough to bough twined a great scarlet-flowered creeper, glowing redly +in all this mystery of shade. The banks were thick with vegetation, +one thing growing over another, with tropical luxuriance, until +sometimes here and there groups of plants, weary with the struggle +each to assert itself, had all fallen together over the bank and +trailed their long strands wearily in the water. + +The stream zigzagged on before us, here darkly green to blackness; +there, where the light pierced through the upper boughs, a golden +bronze; then blue and silver where it caught and eddied and played +round a fallen tree or a stump in the river bed. + +We were going fast now, and as we shot along the glimmering stream we +left the thick green part of the forest behind us. The river broadened +out, expanded widely on either side, and in a few more minutes we +seemed on a chain of infinite lakes spreading out on every side under +and through the trees, which, though they met far overhead forming a +perfect and continuous roof, were bare of leaves and flowering vines +beneath. Grey trunks and bare brown branches in bewildering numbers +now surrounded us, and the sheets of water reflected all so perfectly +down to infinite depths that one lost sense of reality. Boughs and +branches, all arching and curving and spreading above us in the +softened light, and boughs and branches and inverted trees below us, +arches and curves and twisted networks; between, those long gleaming +flats of water on which we floated silently without sense of motion, +ever onwards. + +"It is a little like the wood at Sitka in times of river flood," Suzee +said to me, as we sat together watching the mirrored stems and +branches glide by beneath our boat. + +"Yes?" I answered, smiling back upon her at the remembrance of the +wood. + +The stream was a wide flat here, and our boatmen suddenly directed the +boat to the bank and brought it to a standstill. "We want to go on +land here and buy mangoes," he explained in Spanish. + +"Very good mangoes can be got here." + +We looked round and saw, some distance from the margin, amongst the +stems of the trees standing thickly together, an adobe building, low +and flat, and some figures, not much more clothed than our boatmen, +squatting in front of it, counting mangoes from a great pile into +baskets. + +He fastened the dug-out to one of the many tree stems, drawing it +close to the bank, and then he and his companion landed, leaving us +alone in the lightly swaying boat. + +"We'll have lunch here, Suzee, don't you think?" I asked her, +beginning to unpack the small basket we had brought. "Can you make tea +for us there, do you think?" + +"Oh yes, quite easily; they have a little kitchen here." + +In the forepart of the boat the Indians had fixed a piece of tin with +a few bricks round it, forming a hearthstone and stove. On this they +cooked their own food as their surrounding pots and kettles shewed. A +few embers from their last cooking glowed still between the bricks. +Suzee leant over them, blew them into a blaze and then set our kettle +on, getting out her little cups and saucers and ranging them on the +floor of the boat. + +I sat back and watched her. The whole scene was a delightful one and +rivalled the one I had noted at starting. The gleaming water spread +itself in large flat mirrors on every side, and the trees standing in +it reflected beneath, and reaching up to the lofty roof of +overarching, interlaced boughs above us, gave the effect of a hall of +a thousand columns. The adobe house of the fruit-seller seemed +standing on a precarious island, so high had the floods risen round +it, and numerous empty baskets and crates, evidently lifted from their +moorings on the bank, drifted slowly about on the silvery tide. Our +boat itself was a lovely object with its fairy lines, its thread of +smoke going up from it, and the little Oriental figure bending over +the red embers in its prow. + +We lunched and had our tea in this cool retreat of softened light, and +knew the sun was beating with its murderous noonday glare just +without. The boatmen came back after an interval with a huge load of +mangoes which they piled into the boat, and offered us sixty for five +cents. I gave them the five cents and took two or three of the fruits +for myself and Suzee. Then the moorings were undone, the men jumped +in, and paddled us swiftly onwards. The proprietor of the adobe hut +came to the edge of his grove and saluted, as we passed by on a rapid +current; then he and hut and mangoes all glided from us, quickly as a +dream, and we were borne forward through the wonderful maze of trees +over the tranquil sheets of water. + +All through the golden Mexican afternoon we descended the river, down, +ever downwards, to the sea. Sometimes in the deep green shadows of +overhanging trees, passing through the heart of a forest; sometimes +out in the burning open beneath the clear blue of the sky, between +flat plains of open country; sometimes on the breast of wide lakes; +sometimes between high banks, where the boat went dizzily fast and the +waters passed the paddles with a sharp hiss as we rushed on; and each +of those moments was a delight to me, and even Suzee seemed affected +by the beauty and the poetry of the river, for she leant against me +silent and absorbed and her eyes grew soft and dreaming as the visions +on the golden banks swept by; fields of sugar-cane and maguey, coffee +plantations with their million scarlet berries, waving banana and +palm, masses of delicate bamboo rustling as the warm breeze stirred +them. + +As the day melted into evening, the sky flushed a deep rosy red and +seemed to hang over us like a great hollowed-out ruby glowing with +crimson fires. The waterway of the river before us turned crimson, and +all the ripples in it were edged and flecked with gold. The great +lagoons, when we passed through them now, reflected the peace of the +painted skies and the marsh lilies floating on their surface became +jewels set in gold as the water eddied round them. + +In half an hour the glory faded, leaving a transparent lilac sky over +which the darkness closed with all the swiftness of the tropics. + +As we neared the sea and the warm salt breath came up to us we saw the +light over the Market Square in Tampico and the masses of soft shadow +of the trees in the Plaza. + +Frail, wooden boat-houses, with shaky landing-stages built out over +the water, lined the banks on either side, and at one of them our +boatmen suddenly drew in, and we disembarked in the soft darkness, +suffused with the red light from the square and vibrating with the +music from a band playing there behind the trees. + +We got out and walked along the river-bank towards the seashore, where +the sea lay calm and still, its black, gently heaving surface +reflecting the light of the stars. Where the river debouched, there +was a sheltered cove of fine white sand, and here every species of +gaily painted craft was drawn up. The light from the Market Square, +ablaze with lamps, reached out to it and shewed boat after boat of +fantastic shape and colour, with striped awnings fixed on bamboo poles +over their centre, lying in the shelter of the palm-trees that fringed +the cove. We rounded the slight promontory on our left hand and came +full into the light of the animated town. + +The fair was in progress, and numbers of fruit-sellers from all the +country round, from the adobe hut and the large hacienda, or estate, +of the Mexican gentleman, alike, had brought down their load of fruit +to sell in Tampico. + +Not only was the Plaza itself filled to overflowing with fruit and +other stalls, but they reached down almost to the shore, and very rich +and Oriental the scene looked, framed in deepest shadow from the Plaza +trees on one side, and the smooth, black, starlit darkness of the sea +on the other. + +Each stall had its own light, a bowl of flaming naphtha mounted on a +bamboo pole, and the light fell over the golden fruit--mangoe, +plantain, and banana piled high upon it, and also all round the +vender's feet as he stood by his stall in town costume of one long +white muslin robe. + +There were other stalls where they sold Mexican drawn-work, carved +leather and filigree silver, others again with chairs set round where +one could have iced-fruit drinks or coffee, and the band played +sonorously and the crowd, good-natured, laughing, gaily dressed, men, +women, and children of all sizes, strolled amongst the stalls, buying, +looking, chattering, flirting, in the soft, damp heat of the night. + +Suzee was enchanted and stared about her with bold, lustrous glances, +pleased at the admiring looks of the men on her strange pretty face. +She steered me up to the silver-filigree stall and there had all the +vender's wares put out for her inspection. She was keen enough where +her own particular interests were concerned, and the sellers of +artificial jewellery tempted her with their sparkling gewgaws not at +all. Real solid worth was what she intended to obtain, and her taste +in choosing the silver was excellent. + +Would I buy her this? Would I buy her that? And I assented to +everything. I only wished I could buy myself pleasure as easily. + +She chose a necklet, a brooch, and numberless bangles for her arms, +all the smallest she could find, those generally made for children. +When these loaded her little arms and the necklet was clasped round +her throat she was happy, and the curious, interested Mexicans +gathered in a little knot round us, looked on with interest and +evident approval at the Englishman's money being spent amongst them. + +We stayed in the square buying to her heart's content till eleven, and +then, after supper at a little table beneath the Plaza trees where the +band played loudest, for Suzee loved music when it meant noise, we +went back to the hotel and to bed. + +The next day I went by train to the place where we had embarked for +our voyage down the Tamesi, fully equipped with my materials for a +sketch--and alone. + +Suzee, adhering to her idea that it would be dull and hot on the +river-bank, had preferred to stay in the hotel playing with some of +the treasures bought yesterday at the fair. + +Alone and undisturbed I sat all day sketching, till the fires were +lighted in the West and warned me I must turn homewards. I had a good +picture, and I packed up my traps with that deep sense of satisfaction +that accomplished work alone can give and walked slowly to the +station. As my thoughts slipped on to Suzee a sense of anxiety came +over me. Time was going on. The year would soon be over. What did I +intend to do? Once the year was past it would be impossible for me to +continue living with her, even for a day. And now I felt so often I +would rather be alone than with her. How would she feel over our +separation? How could I provide for her happiness when I took back my +freedom? + +Satiety was beginning to creep over the passion I had for her, and +that was still farther checked now that I knew she looked upon it more +as a means to an end--the child--rather than enjoyed it for itself. + +It worried me greatly this thought of her future and how I was going +to provide for it, and it seemed sometimes as if it might be better to +give in to her; perhaps without me she would be happy if she had a +child as she wished, provided I could make, as I could, a good +allowance to both. But then even with a child I could not imagine +Suzee would want to remain alone, and what would be the fate of a +child if other lovers came, or a husband?... + +While I did not think that Suzee loved me deeply, deep emotion not +being within her range of powers, it was difficult to see how I could +find for her an existence as pleasant as she led with me. + +All these things worried me greatly, and as Fate willed it, +needlessly. + +How often in this life a way is suddenly opened out through +circumstances where we least expect it. + +The Greeks said--"For these unknown matters a god shall find out the +way." And often indeed it happens that Fate steps in, and in some way +our wildest dreams have never pictured turns all our life to another +hue suddenly before our eyes. + +One night when I had been making a little head of Suzee in her +prettiest mood on my canvas, she came and sat on my knee and begged me +to give her, as a reward for her sitting, a narrow band of gold I +always wore on my left arm above the elbow. + +I refused, for Viola had given it to me and locked it on my arm. She +had the key and I, even had I wished, could only have had it taken off +by means of another key or melting the gold. + +At my refusal there was a storm of tears as usual, but it soon passed +over on my kissing her and promising we would go to a jeweller's on +the morrow and have one something like it put on her own arm. + +She soon fell asleep after peace was restored, but I lay awake for +hours watching the tracery of palm shadows on the wall opposite, +thrown there by the light of the square. At midnight the lamp was put +out, the room grew black, without a ray of light, and after a time I, +too, fell asleep. + +I was awakened by a curious sense of a presence in the room. My +eyelids flew open, my ears strained. The room was one solid block of +blackness, there was no ray of light anywhere. I could see and hear +nothing for a moment, though I was certain another living thing had +entered the room. Then at the same instant there was a violent +vibration of the bed beneath me and a piercing scream from Suzee, a +blind, wild cry to me for protection. + +Instinctively I threw my arms out to her. Her body was struggling, +writhing. I felt it as my hands shot out and gripped fiercely, in the +thick darkness, round two hard hairy arms, tense, rigid, as they held +her down. + +Suzee's voice broke out suddenly as my grip possibly loosened the +pressure of those other hands upon her throat, and she was speaking in +_Chinese_. A hot breath came on my eyes, some face must have been +close to mine in the blackness; under my arms, on Suzee's wildly +heaving body, I felt something moving, warm and slow and soft, and +knew that it was blood. + +"Suzee," I called to her across her clamour of terrified entreaty, +"get a light if you can." + +The hot breath came nearer. + +"Devil! Devil! This is your promise, your English word." The sound +came to me like the hiss of steam close to my ear, but I knew the +voice of Hop Lee--Hop Lee buried in Sitka, thousands of miles away. + +The arms in my clutch struggled furiously; in their spasm of muscular +effort they tore me upwards from the bed, as the lock of my fingers +would not give way. + +Suzee's voice clamoured in passionate entreaty, unintelligible to me. +Then suddenly came a terrific twist, which wrenched away one of the +arms, and a lightning stab, a deep burning in my shoulder, and +simultaneously a blaze of light. Over me hung the bent old form of Hop +Lee, his right arm, lifted up, held a long knife raised for its second +stab. His face was alight with fury. Scarlet was already running in +bright ribands over the whiteness of the bed, Suzee's blood and my +own. I threw up my left arm and caught his wrist and turned the hand +and knife upwards till it pointed to the ceiling, my own arm stretched +to the fullest length upright. Suzee gave one horrible cry of terror, +animal terror, and then there was silence beside me. + +"She has fainted, has fainted," my brain muttered in itself. A +sickening fear came into it as silence fell after that one awful cry. + +I had my revolver under my pillow. If I could reach it! I looked up to +the small red eyeballs of the Chinaman. + +They were insane, glaring, full of the wild, unreasoning lust to kill. +Some instinct moved me to speak. + +"You were dead, I heard. I never had your wife while you were alive." + +"Liar! Liar! You shall pay me in blood." + +His hand with the knife in it twisted itself round in my grip. I felt +my uplifted arm losing its force. What was draining my strength? That +stream coming softly from my shoulder. + +I lifted myself, trying to throw him backwards. My arm suddenly bent +at the elbow and his hand with the knife in it zigzagged downwards +very near to my throat. Age and feebleness had disappeared from him. +He was strong now with the strength of insanity and of that blind +leaping fury that glared out of his distorted face. There was a sudden +struggle as he dropped on my chest, then with my hand still locked on +his wrist we rolled together onto the floor. + +A moment and we were up on our feet and he had forced me backwards to +the bed. I felt my strength was going, but I still clung with a +steel-like clutch to his wrist and kept the pointed knife at bay. As +he bent me backwards on to the bed near the pillow, I took my right +hand from his arm, snatched the revolver from under the pillow, thrust +it into his face between the eyes, and fired. + +He fell forwards, a great hole torn in his forehead, from which a +river of blood poured, joining the bright ribands and with them making +a sea of crimson. + +I looked across him to where Suzee lay motionless. + +"Suzee," I said, my breath almost dying in my throat. + +She stirred slightly. I was beside her in a moment. Her eyelids opened +slowly. Then her eyes filled with terror. + +"Where is he?" she muttered. + +"Dead; he cannot hurt you any more. You are safe now." + +"No, Treevor, I am dying; it pains me so here." + +She laid one hand on her breast and I saw the blood well up between +two fingers. I tore aside the muslin veils on her bosom and found the +wound: it was not large, just one clean stab, turning purple at the +edges. + +"It is deep, Treevor; so deep. And it bleeds inside me. It is drinking +my life. I have only a few minutes to tell you. Hold up my head. I +can't breathe." + +I slipped my arm beneath her little neck. My heart seemed breaking +with distress; black tides of resentment, of rage went through me, +that she should be torn from me. + +"Listen, Treevor. It was I that lied to you. I told you he was dead, +and the child. They were not. I ran away. I left them at Sitka. I came +to 'Frisco and took refuge with that woman. Then I wrote to you." + +A sudden horror of her seemed to enfold me as I heard. + +How she had lied and deceived me! And forced me to break my word! + +"Because I wanted you so much and I knew you would never have me if +you thought he was still alive.... Your stupid promise. What are +promises when one loves? I wanted you, Treevor, so much! So much!" + +Some of the old fire flashed out of the dying eyes, a hungry, +despairing look. + +"Kiss me, Treevor. Say you forgive me." + +But I could not. For the moment I was so stunned, so overwhelmed by +this sudden revelation of her deception. + +A deathly physical faintness was creeping over me; a sensation like +the beginning of long-denied sleep which rolls at last like an +unconquerable tide, obliterating everything, through the exhausted +frame, was invading my whole body. I clasped one hand mechanically +round the bed-rail to support myself, the ground seemed to lift and +sway beneath my feet. + +I looked down on the little oval face that had lived so near to me +through the last year. How pale it was now, framed in the crimson mist +that stretched across the bed! At the slight, exquisite body so often +held in my arms. Was I to lose them now for all time? + +"I did it all for you, because I wanted you so much. Do kiss me and +say you forgive. I shall not rest through a thousand years if you will +not." + +Grey shadows were collecting in her face, some unseen hand seemed +drawing the eternal veil between us. To me, life, with all its +doings, was far away. I myself was standing in the uncertain mists of +death. Wide, limitless, and grey, the great plains of the hereafter +seemed opening before me, dim, silent, and mysterious. + +Life, with its glare of colour, its triumphant music, its crash of +sound, was far behind me, almost forgotten; like clouds of indefinable +tint, piled up on some distant horizon, rose the memories of its +loves, its woes, its crimes. + +Her weak voice calling on me to forgive seemed to have little meaning +to me now. I leant forward, clasping her dying body to me, and kissed +her lips, murmuring some words of consolation. Then the grey mists +rose up over my eyes sealing them, and I sank slowly into the perfect +darkness. + + + + +PART FIVE + +THE WHITE NIGHT + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE FLAMES OF LIFE'S FURNACE + + +A large room with open windows shewing a great square of hot blue sky +and a palm branch that swayed in front of them, bright gold in the +vivid light, was before my eyes as I lay alone, stretched out on my +bed, the mosquito-curtains draped round me, and raised on the side +next the windows. + +How many weary days and nights had gone slowly by since that night +which hung veiled in crimson mists in my memory! Horrible night of +anger, of struggle, of death, of blood! Would its remembrance always +cling to me like this? + +Hop Lee thought I had broken my promise to him. That was the poisoned +thorn that rankled and twisted and festered within me. No wonder he +had cursed me and wanted to kill me. And Suzee--how well she had +deceived me! I remembered her as she had sat trying to weep at the +supper-table in San Francisco, telling me of the last moments of Hop +Lee, her own devotion to him, and the child in their dying sufferings! +Husband and child that she had deserted so gladly! A dull anger burnt +within me at the thought of that deception, and most fiercely at the +knowledge that she had forced me to break my word. + +Yet that anger, strongly though it flamed against her, could not +wholly dry the tears that came between my lids as I thought of her. +She had loved me in her own selfish, childish way, and had risked her +own life as well as mine to come to me. + +After all, was it not I who had been in the wrong from the first? I +had known she was married. Why had I ever looked at her with that +admiration which had stirred her passion for me? Morley had warned me. +Now it had ended like this and nearly cost us all our lives. But I, +the most guilty of the three, had escaped, and they were both dead. + +I appeared to have broken my promise, and now, after already injuring +him so much--one who had never injured me--I had killed Hop Lee. I had +taken his wife, who, he had said, was more than his life. Not +satisfied with that, I had taken his life, too! How horrible it all +was! I felt suffocated beneath the weight of it. But surely, surely it +was Suzee who had thrown this burden on me? Yes, but I had begun the +evil far back in the sunny days at Sitka. + +Truly, as I had said to Morley, "One never knows in life." + +I had killed him, a poor harmless, defenceless old man who had trusted +me! + +One thing after another had gradually pushed me on to this climax, all +having their origin in those careless glances exchanged in the Sitka +tea-shop. + +They had thought I should die, too, all the people who had rushed into +the room and found us that night. Myself unconscious, and the others +dead. + +The cold voice of a doctor had been the first I had heard as sense +came back to me with the damp night air from the window blowing on my +face: + +"He's done for, I should say, you'd better take his depositions if he +can speak." + +I had opened my eyes and seen some men carrying out the body of Hop +Lee and the tiny pliable form of dear little Suzee that I should never +see or clasp again. + +The landlord had come up ashy-pale and shaking, with a note-book in +his hand, and had questioned and re-questioned me, and I had answered +until I fainted again. + +Next, after a black gap, I came to beneath the surgeon's probe which +he was thrusting into my wound, as he would a fork into cold meat. + +"He won't get through, I should think; he has too much fever," he was +saying, in the regular callous professional voice. + +"But I'm going to try the effect of this new antiseptic dressing, I +want to see if it does harm or not." + +I opened my eyes and looked up at his hard, thin-lipped face, and he +seemed somewhat disconcerted; but only jabbed his probe in a little +deeper and remarked jocularly: + +"Ah, I see, you're tougher than I thought." + +More oblivion, and when I next came to I knew that _they_ had both +been carried away from me and buried--Hop Lee, and his wife beside +him, and that that chapter in my life was, for ever and ever, closed. + +Now I was in charge of a hospital nurse. A horrible creature she was, +lean and hard-faced, with a straight slit across her face for mouth, +and little grey, cruel eyes. Like a nightmare she hung round my bed, +preventing me from getting better. + +All the fiendish tortures and cruelties that she had witnessed within +the hospital walls had, I suppose, made her the thing she was. + +Days had passed, and very slowly a little strength had crept back into +me, enough for me to see I was not getting well as quickly as my youth +and strength would let me if there were no drawback. I drew all my +forces together to try and understand this, and then I noticed that +regularly after each dose of physic I went back a little. + +More fever, more pain in my shoulder, more delusions before the brain. +Each morning when the vitality within me had struggled through the +evil effects of my medicine I was better, then came the harpy-faced +nurse to the pillow--my dose--then pain and illness again. + +The look on the face of the woman as I drank it was extraordinary. A +sly, pleased look, as one sees on the face of a schoolboy dismembering +a living fly. + +One day I took the glass as usual from her, but instead of raising it +to my lips, turned it upside down through the window. + +The woman turned red, and then livid. + +"What does that mean, sir, may I ask?" + +"Simply that I am not going to take any more medicine, thank you," I +replied quietly, "as I now wish to get well." + +"My orders from the doctor are that you shall take it," she said +grimly; "and I'll make you." + +She poured out another glass of the medicine and approached the bed, +with the intention, it seemed, of opening my mouth and pouring it +down. But I had had no weakening, sense-destroying drug that morning, +and nature was rapidly curing me. + +She forgot that. As she came up, I sprang from the bed, put my hand on +her shoulder, and forced her to the door. She shrieked and protested, +but she could not resist. I put her outside and locked the door. + +Then I sank down trembling with exhaustion, for I was very weak. But I +rejoiced to know my strength had come back even that much. I crossed +to the window after a moment and looked out. In the distance +glimmered the sea, blue and joyous and beautiful. How I longed to be +out near it, in its warm salt breeze! Beside my window grew the +companion of my weary hours, the waving palm; beneath there was a +little flagged court, shut in by small buildings belonging to the +hotel. There was a well there and a banana-tree, and a man sitting +down plucking alive a struggling fowl. I called to him in Spanish: + +"Send the administrador to me." And he looked up. + +A frightened look came into his face as he saw who it was that called +him. Then he nodded, and carrying the unhappy bird by its feet, head +downwards, disappeared into the hotel. + +People and things move slowly with the Spaniards. I waited an hour, +gazing out into the amethystine distance, wondering if Suzee's glad, +careless, irresponsible little spirit was dancing there in the +sunbeams; and then a knock came at the door. + +I walked to it and said: "Who is there?" + +I recognised the voice of the administrador in his answer, and +unlocked the door and bid him come in. + +He did so, with an alarmed aspect. + +"Have you seen the nurse?" I asked. + +"Yes," he replied; "she told me you were again delirious and had +refused to take your medicine, and that she must refuse all +responsibility for you." + +"I am not at all delirious, as you see," I answered; "I simply want to +get well, and each time I take their stuff I get worse; so I am going +to cease taking it. Now what I ask you to do is to keep that woman and +the doctor and the surgeon out of my room. All I want is to be left +alone, to be quiet. The surgeon took all the stitches out yesterday. +There is no need for _him_ to see me again, and the others I won't +have in here." + +"But the responsibility, really, Senor," the man muttered looking all +ways at once, "and the good doctor--such an amiable man. What object +could he have in not curing the Senor quickly?" + +"The object of prolonging his fees," I answered smiling, "I should +think. When I get well, his fees stop." Then it occurred to me this +man had also an object in keeping me here, since my hotel bill would +certainly stop, like the doctors' fees, when I got well; so I added: + +"What day of the month is it? The twentieth? Well, listen to this. If +I am well, perfectly well by the end of the month, I will give you a +cheque for fifty pounds in addition to my bills, just to show my +good-will." + +Now L50 is much to a Mexican, and over this man's face spread a look +as of one who has a glimpse of Paradise. He looked down immediately, +however, and said deprecatingly: + +"How can I influence the Senor's getting well? These things are as +the good God wills. I can hire a Sister to pray for the Senor. That I +can do." + +"Thank you," I said. "But if you will keep the doctor and nurse out of +my room and send me good food and water I shall get well and the fifty +pounds is yours. Do you understand, if they come into this room again +you lose it. I only wish to be alone." + +The man bowed and bowed. + +"As the Senor wishes, but the good amiable doctor, what should I say +to him?" + +"What you please, only don't let him come near me." + +"And when the Senor is well there are many little matters to settle. +The Consul and the Magistrate...." + +I stopped him. + +"Not now. I am to have ten days in peace, and alone, or you don't get +the money." + +The man stood bowing and shuffling and muttering for some minutes. +Then the thought of the L50 came before him too dazzling to resist, +and with a final: "It shall be exactly as the Senor wishes," he +withdrew. + +And so now I lay alone. Ah, what a comfort solitude is! + +Freedom and solitude! Are these not two sweet Sisters of Mercy? + +How few of all worldly ills and sorrows can they not either cure or +assuage? Or, rather, perhaps, ought one not to call them mates, from +which the child, Content, is born? + +I lay there, weak and suffering still, but a balm seemed poured all +over me, for now I was alone. + +I fell asleep after a time and did not wake till it was dark. I felt +stronger, better. Sleep had nursed me in her own way through all the +afternoon. + +A lamp had been lighted on the table beside me and only needed turning +up. There was a tray of food there and a carafe of water. I took a +little of both and felt life stirring in all my veins, now that the +paralysing grip of the deadly drugs they had been giving me was lifted +off. + +I lay still, gazing about the large, shadowy room and into the violet +dusk of the square beyond the window, and then gradually sleep came +over me again. + +In less than an hour I started up from my bed, wide-awake. I thought I +had been with Hop Lee. I looked round the room. All was just as I had +seen it last. I sank back on my pillow. "It was only a vivid dream," I +said to myself, and then fell to wondering what the dream had been. I +could not remember. It seemed some communication had been made to my +brain while I slept, that it had received very clearly, but now that I +was awake it could not retain nor understand it, but it could, and did +remember that I had dreamed of Hop Lee, and that it was a pleasant +dream. + +Yes, the man I had murdered had been with me, had spoken to me, and +the impression was that of rest, of calm, of some aching self-reproach +being appeased. + +"Just a dream, of course," I said to myself; "but how odd that I +cannot remember at all what he said." An hour perhaps passed by while +I lay quiet, strangely comforted by the dream I had forgotten; and +then I lapsed back into sleep and again Hop Lee was with me, speaking, +telling me something earnestly, exhorting me gently, and again I woke +with a feeling of gratitude, of peace; but I could recall nothing of +what had been said to me. + +The light burned steadily beside me, and I sat up and thought. + +The feeling of tranquillity that spread through me, so different from +the feverish self-reproach that had gripped me ever since I had killed +Hop Lee was so marked, so wonderful in its effect on me that I could +not feel it was the result of a dream. No, the spirit of the old man +had been there, absolving me of my broken word, absolving me of his +murder. The fact that I could not remember, could not recall or +understand when awake my dream or his words, seemed to shew that in +sleep a mysterious message from a hidden source had been conveyed to +me, which, from its nature and the nature of my ordinary material +brain, could not be received by the latter. From that hour I began to +get well rapidly. Often and often in the long nights or the lonely +quiet days, I tried to call up a dream to me, a vision of either of +them again; often I longed to speak to Suzee once more. But never +again did any shade come to my pillow. He had come that once, of that +I was convinced. To others it would always seem as if I had dreamed +that night. I knew, by some inner sense, I had been spoken to by the +soul of the old dead Chinaman, and forgiven. + +The time passed evenly in that calm solitude. Sometimes still I was +burnt with fever and racked with pain and got but poor food, and often +longed for a hand to give me water in the dark nights. And I +longed--ah, how I desired, infinitely, to send to Viola, tell her, and +ask her to come to me! + +I felt she would come then, that she would fly to me once she heard I +was ill, in actual need of her. + +But my pride refused to let me do this. + +I had begged her to come in the name of our love, appealed to her +through our passion. I would never appeal to her pity. + +Besides, I could not bear that she should see me now, wrecked in +strength, a shadow, a skeleton of myself. + +Fever had reduced me to the last thin edge of existence. As I +stretched out my arms before me, they looked like some grim ghastly +stranger's, I did not recognise them. No, she should come back to me +when I had regained the full glory of my health and strength that I +knew she delighted in. + +So I waited with all the patience I could command, and sleep and +Nature nursed me between them till I was quite well. + +Then came long-drawn-out procedure in the Mexican courts. I had +documents to write and sign, affidavits to make out, interrogations to +answer; but finally the Law was satisfied. I was acquitted. I heard +the decision with a curious feeling. How little it seemed to matter +beside the inner knowledge of my heart, that Hop Lee himself had been +with me, and knew and understood. + +One afternoon then, after the satisfying of nearly endless claims upon +me, I looked at the long, flat, rolling sea with its reefs of palms +for the last time, and took the train northwards away from Tampico. + +The year was not yet over, but I was going back to be in London, or +very near it. For would she not write first to my club? and here it +took at least three weeks for my letters sent on from the club to +reach me. + +I did not wish to live actually in town yet till Viola joined me, to +advertise our separation, unnecessarily, to our friends, but I thought +I would live practically hidden somewhere near, so that letters could +reach me from London the same day. + +Within a month I was back in London and went first of all to call for +letters. Amongst them I recognised instantly there was not one from +Viola. And, depressed and disappointed, I went down into the country, +to work. + +Work, the dear mistress of an artist's life, the one that never leaves +him but is there always waiting to receive him back to her, to console +him in her arms for all the wounds that love has made. + +Month after month went by and I worked at the painting, turning into +finished pictures the many sketches life with Suzee had given me. + +As I worked on some of these a wave of sad reflection would sweep over +me, of memory of her, but the recollection of the deceit and lies in +which her love for me had been always cloaked came with that memory +and blunted the poignant edge of it. + +Then suddenly one morning came a letter from Viola, and my heart +seemed at the sight of it to fly upwards and forwards to the future as +a swallow let out of a darkened room flies upwards and outwards with a +swift rush to the open light. + + "Bletchner's Hotel, Paris." "If you wish, you may come to me." + +That was all, but it was enough. Within a few moments I was ready for +departure. For weeks a little case had stood ready packed against the +wall of my room. All else was left standing. + +I went to town, caught the morning train to Dover, and crossed to +Calais. + +I reached Paris finally about six and drove to a hotel. I dined in my +travelling clothes in the restaurant, and then went up to my room to +dress. What keen life I felt in all my veins! How strongly all the +power of living had come back to me! Ordinarily, when we are well we +get so accustomed to our health and strength we are hardly aware of +either, but there are times when we become supremely conscious of +both, as I was now. As I walked about my small apartment I felt a +pride and joy in my strength such as a woman feels, I suppose, in her +beauty when she surveys it in the mirror--a wild elation, a sense of +triumph, as she realises in it her power. The thought of the +approaching meeting with Viola danced before my mind, filling it with +superb delight. All my veins seemed filled with fire instead of blood. +My limbs and muscles flew to do the bidding of the eager, impatient +brain. + +I drove to Bletchner's Hotel and enquired for Madame Lonsdale, and was +immediately shewn up to her suite of apartments. The salon I entered +was empty. A door faced me at the other end. It was closed. My heart +leapt up as I saw it. Was she there--just on the other side? The salon +was lighted with shaded electric lamps and furnished and hung entirely +in white, so that there was that dazzling effect of light I knew she +always loved. I walked up and down in short quick turns, longing to go +up to that tantalising door and knock, but holding myself back. + +After a moment it opened and she came through it towards me. For one +second before I rushed forward to clasp her in my arms, I stood to +gaze at her, and the sweetness, the enchanting glamour of the vision +was borne in upon me and locked itself into my memory for ever. She +was in white, some soft white tissue that fell round her closely, +edged with silver that seemed like moonlight on white clouds, and +there was a little silver on her shoulders and round the breast that +seemed like moonlight upon snow. Her fair hair shone in the blaze of +light, her face raised to mine was pale and smiling, with a wonderful +lustre in the azure eyes. + +She seemed, as ever, the dream, the vision, the ideal, the +unattainable divinity man's soul continually strives after. + +A moment more and she was in my arms. Her physical semblance was mine, +in which her spirit walked and moved, and I was the owner and +conqueror of that at least. + +"Trevor dear, be gentle!" she murmured in laughing remonstrance, but +her white arms did not unlock from my neck nor her soft lips move far +from mine. + +"How happy I am now," she said, sinking into my embrace, "and how well +you look, Trevor, how splendid! So strong and gloriously full of +life!" + +"I wonder I do," I answered, "after this cruel year you gave me. How +could you leave me as you did while I was asleep beside you, and what +was your reason? You will have to tell me now." + +"I believe you would be happier if I did not, if you just trusted me +and never asked to know," she answered, smiling back at me. "Are we +not perfectly happy now? You have me again; look at me, am I just the +same as when we parted?" + +I looked at her intently, eagerly, my eyes drinking in all the perfect +vision before me, each slim outline of the body, lying back now on the +couch where we both were sitting, all the delicacy of the transparent +skin, the smooth white forehead with its fine, straight-drawn +eyebrows, the lovely eyes searching mine. Yes, I had lost nothing of +my possession, and there seemed rather something added to that inner +light and that wonderful look of intellect and power that shone +through the face. + +"I think you are the same," I said slowly, seeking vainly to express +that indefinable extra light that seemed upon her face. + +"Only perhaps more lovely. But tell me what your reason was. I cannot +bear to think there is a dark gap between us." + +"You are so happy at this moment it seems a pity," she murmured +softly. "You will not feel so happy when you know, and it's all over +and past and forgotten. It's a thunderstorm that has rolled by and +left us again in the sunlight. We are in Paradise now, are we not?" + +I looked at her, and the triumph of delighted joy I had in her rose up +to my brain, filling it, making all else seem obscure and of no +account. Yet something in her words stirred my brain anxiously. Why +should I mind hearing what she had to say? Was it possible that she +had acted on her first letter to me, after all, and, while forcing +freedom on me, taken it also for herself? Was it possible she had lent +my possession, herself, to another? That blind, insensate jealousy of +the male in physical matters instantly flamed up through me. In that +moment of extreme passion for her, of expected triumph and delight, it +burnt at its most furious pitch. I felt I must _know_, must drag the +secret out of her, and if it was what I thought in that unreasoning +moment, I would kill us both. + +I threw myself forward on her so that she could not move. "Now tell +me," I said. "You shall tell me, you promised you would." + +Viola looked up at me with a regretful gaze but without any shrinking +from my savage look and grasp. + +"Certainly I will," she said gently; "but you will regret forcing me +to tell you. Well, I left you, Trevor, because I found I was going to +be the mother of your child." + +"Viola!" + +Had she stabbed me in the breast as I leant over her, the shock could +not have been more great. To me the words seemed to go straight to my +heart and stop it. I could not speak beyond that one word. For the +moment I was absolutely stunned, paralysed. I took my hands from her +arms which I had been holding, rose from the couch mechanically, and +walked away from her, trying to realise, to understand what she had +said and its meaning. + +This was the fact that stood out most clearly before my disordered +mental vision: knowing she was going to be in danger, to suffer, she +had fled from me to bear the burden of it alone. And, next, that I had +brought that burden and suffering on her. That spirit, so far above +earthly things, as I always thought her, I had dragged down to know +the common trials, share the common lot of earthly womanhood. The pain +of these two ideas, the agony they brought with them to me in those +moments was something almost unendurable. I felt crushed, absolutely +ground into the dust before it. I sat down by the table and put both +hands across my eyes, shutting out her exquisite vision, trying to +shut out my thoughts. I felt as a religious enthusiast might feel who +in a moment of drunken madness had outraged a sacred shrine. + +Viola was to me, had always been, far more than a wife or a mistress +is to a man; she was also the Idea to my brain, and what his Idea is +to an artist an artist alone can know. But it is something he will +live and die for, and count his heart's blood as nothing beside it. +That she was a sacred thing, to be protected and guarded from the +sordid incidents of daily life that she hated, had always been my +thought. She was an artist, and as such had Art's own penalties to +pay--the excessive nervous strain it puts upon the body, the long +weakening tension, the extreme mental and bodily fatigue that +sometimes accompanies or follows an artist's flight into the Elysian +fields, from which he brings back those deathless flowers of music, +verse, song, or colour to plant in the world. It is not fair that such +a one should have to bear the common ills of life as well as pay those +penalties. + +That had always been my view. Viola was apart from the world, a +daughter of the gods, not suited for, nor designed for the common +sufferings of the clay. Love she might know, or rather must know, for +love is always the handmaiden to Art, but motherhood, no. For those +thousands and thousands of women who inhabit this world and have no +divine gifts to bestow maternity is a pleasing and natural +occupation; for the one amongst those thousands who has heard the +Divine whisper and walked and conversed with the gods, and who can +repeat those whispers to mortals, it is a waste of divine energy--a +sacrilege. For genius is not handed down. It is given to one alone. It +is not hereditary. For genius accumulated through heredity would at +last produce a god. And that the jealous gods will not allow. +Therefore the child of a genius is rarely a genius itself. It is born +with a veil across its eyes that it may not see divinity and so return +to the common type. + +Knowing all this and feeling it keenly to my heart's core, I had given +my promise to Viola. A promise, which indeed was part of a religion to +me, and this was how I had kept it! + +The intense humiliation of it all rolled through me, stunning me like +a physical agony. + +I heard her voice speaking gently to me, but I could not understand +what she said, could not respond. + +In memory, I was listening again to her voice when she had come that +first night to the studio: + +"You will not let our love drag us down to earth, will you? Let it +only inspire us more. We will go to the Elysian fields together to +gather the amaranth flowers. You will not try to turn me into the +ordinary married woman. I could not accept those duties and that +life. I want to live in my music, in the heaven of Ideas, as I do now. +And to you I want always to be the vision, the dream, the spirit of +your thoughts: never the wife, the mother, the keeper of the +household, occupied with worldly matters." + +And I had promised with all the rapture and the fervour of one who +understood and thought her thoughts, and who had always longed to +escape from the commonplace, the trivial matters of the world, to +whom, as to her, the deathless amaranth flowers of beauty, of art, of +Idea, of inspiration were all. + +But the promise had been broken. Through me she had known pain, +suffering, danger, inability to work, anxiety, daily care for months +and months alone. The exquisite, perfect form I had counted so sacred, +had suffered the common earthly lot. And through me. My thoughts +seemed crushing me, grinding me beneath them, but at last her voice +penetrated to my brain, through its anguish of self-reproach. + +"I knew you would feel it so much, dear Trevor, that was why I kept it +secret from you and went away, but now it is all over and past, you +must not dwell on it. It is irrevocable. Don't reproach yourself about +it. Let us be glad we are in Heaven now." + +I rose and went over to her and knelt by the couch, raising one of her +hands to my lips and holding it against me. + +"Dear! Dearest one! You went away to endure all that misery alone, so +that it should not distress me? How wonderfully unselfish you have +always been to me!" + +"Oh, no," she answered quickly, a light colour rising all over her +face. + +"You must not think that. I went away for myself, too. I could not +bear that you should see me disfigured, spoiled, as you would think. I +had always been the ideal to you. I could not bear to let you see me +as an ordinary woman. I was afraid I should lose your passion for me, +which I value more than anything else in the world. I felt I could +face everything but that. Terrifying and horrible as it all was to +meet quite alone, still it was better than feeling I was losing your +love and desire." + +"But you would not have done," I said vehemently; "nothing could make +any difference to my love for you." + +"Not to your love, perhaps, but our passions are not in our own +control. They rise under certain influences, sink and decline under +others, and we can do nothing. We must look these things in the face. +See now, if I were suddenly turned to an old, old woman, withered +before your eyes, would you feel as you feel now?" + +"No," I answered slowly, "I admit old age...." + +"Or hopelessly disfigured--my face rendered hideous by burns or +loathsome with disease? You could not desire me then, I should not +expect it. Love is unchangeable, but passion is a flame that shivers +in every transient breeze. We can't help it. It _is_ so. As I look at +you now I love you for your strength and grace, above all for your +beautiful form. If you hobbled into the room, bent and lame, I should +love you still but not as I do now, quite, quite otherwise. And I was +disfigured, temporarily, I know, but it went on for months and months. +I was no longer your gay, glad spirit with the radiant wings. I was +broken, distorted, hideous." + +"Don't tell me," I muttered; "I can't bear it." She put one arm round +my neck and her soft lips on my hair. + +"It is over," she whispered. "Do not be sorry, do not reproach +yourself. It was so much better for you not to know, not to see it. It +would all have preyed upon you so from day to day. _I_ felt the long +waiting. It seemed the time would never pass, and each day and night I +felt so glad to know you were not there, to suffer with me, but away, +quite out of reach of it all." + +"But suppose you had died ... without me." + +"The chances were against that. And if I had, it would have still been +better that you should be away ... for you. I would have come to you +after death, really a spirit then, and lived ever after in your soul." + +I put my arms round her, living, warm, beautiful, in the flesh. + +"What a lonely, terrible year for you!" I said. "It never occurred to +me ... I never dreamed ... and I can't understand now...." + +"You remember the night I came back from Lawton's place to you? ... +You were mad with jealous rage, and I am so little accustomed to +resist you.... Well, it was my punishment for even thinking I could +leave you.... At least, I have always accepted it as such." + +"I can never, never forgive myself." + +"I knew you would take it like that, and now you see I can make you +soon forget it. If you had felt like this for weeks and months it +would almost have killed you." + +She played with my hair and her lips touched my eyebrows. + + +"Yes," she answered, looking back at me sadly and closely. "Are you +sorry?" + +"No, I am not sorry," I answered savagely. + +"I thought you would not be." + +"Are you?" + +She sighed. + +"I hardly know. It was so like you, Trevor, such a very, very +beautiful boy, exactly like you in miniature. I loved it, of course; I +could not help it, but it is better as it is, better that it should +die. We could not foresee how it would grow up, and so many men, the +majority, are such monsters, such cruel fiends, it is really a crime +to bring one into the world." + +I was silent, thinking over that wonderful devotion and courage she +had shewn me. Of all the solutions to the problem of her flight from +me, this had never presented itself to my mind. We are taught both by +tradition and experience how most women cling to their lover at such a +time. Though indifferent, even faithless to him in their beauty and +health, they come to him then for protection, for assistance. For +their name's sake, to save their conventional honour, they will even +accept marriage with one they no longer love, or force themselves on +one they know has no longer love for them. + +But how different this one, as always, had been! To preserve inviolate +the spirit of our love, she had gone forward to meet what must to a +sensitive nature like hers have been a time of horror and terror, +absolutely alone, unsupported except by the thought that I was away, +free, unable to share her misery! + +With gifts in both hands she had come to me and laid them all in mine. +Then, when I had broken my trust and brought distress upon her, when +she was in need and I could have been the one to give, she had fled +away from love, from consolation, from any return or reparation. +Proud, courageous, independent, untamable, as she had always been, she +was in comparison with other women as a lioness is to a gazelle. + +I folded my arms round her tighter at these thoughts, for the lioness +was mine and I owned her. + +Perhaps, after all, it was worth while to suffer that agony of +self-reproach I had just now, and was suffering still, to see put in +such shining light before me her courage and her worth. + +This was a white night, surely, as the others had been coloured, for +as white is the blending of all the colours into one, so in this night +all the emotions of those previous nights were blended. Passion, +jealousy, triumph, and an agony like death had all swept over me in +these few short hours, and now from them all, blent together and +burning as metals in a smelter, rose up the extreme white vivid flame +of love for her like the white silken tongue of fire, the last degree +of fiercest heat that the smelter can produce. + +I bent over her, looking down into her eyes, deep down into those +living depths where I seemed to see the rays of an eternal heaven, +clasping the smooth breast to me, closely, that its passionate +heart-beats might answer my own, and in our veins burnt that intense +white flame that melts into itself the glory of the immortal Spirit, +the wonder of the hereafter, and all the joys of the world. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIVE NIGHTS*** + + +******* This file should be named 13017.txt or 13017.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/0/1/13017 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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