diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/zdbsn10.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/zdbsn10.txt | 12159 |
1 files changed, 12159 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/old/zdbsn10.txt b/old/zdbsn10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a268611 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/zdbsn10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12159 @@ +*The Project Gutenberg Etext of Zuleika Dobson, by Max Beerbohm* +#5 in our series by Max Beerbohm + + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* + +Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and +further information is included below. We need your donations. + + +Zuleika Dobson + +by Max Beerbohm + +August, 1999 [Etext #1845] + + +*The Project Gutenberg Etext of Zuleika Dobson, by Max Beerbohm* +******This file should be named zdbsn10.txt or zdbsn10.zip****** + +Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, zdbsn11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, zdbsn10a.txt + +This Etext prepared by Judy Boss, of Omaha, NE + + +Project Gutenberg Etexts are usually created from multiple editions, +all of which are in the Public Domain in the United States, unless a +copyright notice is included. Therefore, we do NOT keep these books +in compliance with any particular paper edition, usually otherwise. + + +We are now trying to release all our books one month in advance +of the official release dates, for time for better editing. + +Please note: neither this list nor its contents are final till +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg Etexts is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. To be sure you have an +up to date first edition [xxxxx10x.xxx] please check file sizes +in the first week of the next month. Since our ftp program has +a bug in it that scrambles the date [tried to fix and failed] a +look at the file size will have to do, but we will try to see a +new copy has at least one byte more or less. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +fifty hours is one conservative estimate for how long it we take +to get any etext selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. This +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If our value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour this year as we release thirty-two text +files per month, or 384 more Etexts in 1998 for a total of 1500+ +If these reach just 10% of the computerized population, then the +total should reach over 150 billion Etexts given away. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion Etext +Files by the December 31, 2001. [10,000 x 100,000,000=Trillion] +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only 10% of the present number of computer users. 2001 +should have at least twice as many computer users as that, so it +will require us reaching less than 5% of the users in 2001. + + +We need your donations more than ever! + + +All donations should be made to "Project Gutenberg/CMU": and are +tax deductible to the extent allowable by law. (CMU = Carnegie- +Mellon University). + +For these and other matters, please mail to: + +Project Gutenberg +P. O. Box 2782 +Champaign, IL 61825 + +When all other email fails try our Executive Director: +Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> + +We would prefer to send you this information by email +(Internet, Bitnet, Compuserve, ATTMAIL or MCImail). + +****** +If you have an FTP program (or emulator), please +FTP directly to the Project Gutenberg archives: +[Mac users, do NOT point and click. . .type] + +ftp uiarchive.cso.uiuc.edu +login: anonymous +password: your@login +cd etext/etext90 through /etext96 +or cd etext/articles [get suggest gut for more information] +dir [to see files] +get or mget [to get files. . .set bin for zip files] +GET INDEX?00.GUT +for a list of books +and +GET NEW GUT for general information +and +MGET GUT* for newsletters. + +**Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor** +(Three Pages) + + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this etext, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you can distribute copies of this etext if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS ETEXT +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +etext, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this etext by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this etext on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM ETEXTS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG- +tm etexts, is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor +Michael S. Hart through the Project Gutenberg Association at +Carnegie-Mellon University (the "Project"). Among other +things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this etext +under the Project's "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +To create these etexts, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's etexts and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other etext medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] the Project (and any other party you may receive this +etext from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext) disclaims all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this etext within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS ETEXT IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold the Project, its directors, +officers, members and agents harmless from all liability, cost +and expense, including legal fees, that arise directly or +indirectly from any of the following that you do or cause: +[1] distribution of this etext, [2] alteration, modification, +or addition to the etext, or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this etext electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + etext or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this etext in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word pro- + cessing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The etext, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The etext may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the etext (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + etext in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the etext refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Project of 20% of the + net profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Association/Carnegie-Mellon + University" within the 60 days following each + date you prepare (or were legally required to prepare) + your annual (or equivalent periodic) tax return. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time, +scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty +free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution +you can think of. Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg +Association / Carnegie-Mellon University". + +*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + +This Etext prepared by Judy Boss, of Omaha, NE + + + + + +Note: I have made the following changes to the text: +PAGE LINE ORIGINAL CHANGED TO +viii 20 characterteristic characteristic + ix 22 important, important; + ix 28 frailities frailties + 76 30 her her. + 133 22 Gredden Greddon + 154 22 cast-black cast-back + 275 28 enter enter- + 277 5 hand hand. + 340 23 robed. robbed. + 354 13 Mais "Mais +I have also transcribed the Greek on pages 99 and 187. + +ZULEIKA DOBSON + +BY +MAX BEERBOHM + +INTRODUCTION BY +FRANCIS HACKETT + + + + +ILLI +ALMAE MATRI + + +[page intentionally blank] + + +INTRODUCTION + +THE promise of a full-length novel by the au- +thor of "The Happy Hypocrite" had an intense +effect on Beerbohm "addicts" in 1911. Those +who did not share in the excitement at the time +may be bored now by being told how keen it was, +yet it was indisputably keen, all the more so for +being narrow and literary. A first play by H. G. +Wells, a book of lyrics by Bernard Shaw, a +comedy by Theodore Roosevelt, a volume of lull- +abies by Herbert Asquith -- the announcement of +such unexpected works might whet the simple and +greedy curiosity of the large public, but the large +public would never have a titillation that would +exceed the Beerbohmites' titillation with "Zu- +leika Dobson." Only a few hundred in all the +Americas may have felt it, because only a few +hundred could have been reading his Works and +his <i>Saturday Review</i> criticisms. It was not the +less a delicious excitement, and it was one which +he amply gratified. + But not, I think, as we supposed he would. So +much of his criticism was admiration of sober +realism that we might easily have hoped for, or + +v + + +vi INTRODUCTION + +feared for, a realistic novel; or, if not that, a +tenuous analysis in the mode of Henry James. +What the Beerbohmite forgot when he heard that +his author had written a novel was his author's +eminence as a caricaturist. + How "great" is Max Beerbohm's eminence as +a caricaturist I do not know. Somewhere, I sup- +pose, there is an æsthetic Lloyds where the sure- +enough rating of all the poets, painters, archi- +tects, sculptors, novelists and interior decorators +is to be found, determined by spiritual insurance +agents; and there one may find written down the +exact percentage of importance to be given to +Max's cartoons. In ignorance of this rating it is +rash to call anyone eminent, but the memory of +Max's drawings is so persistent, the means he +employs so telling and the end so achieved, that +no Englishman of his day seems to come near +him. Is this because we who write about a cari- +cature are literary? Is it because Max Beerbohm +is caricaturing Yeats and Moore and Shaw and +Bennett and Tennyson, instead of the war cabi- +nets and the secret-treaty statesmen and the hu- +mors of Zionism? Perhaps. But no one who +has felt a sore spot respond to the caustic of his +pencil can be persuaded that it is familiarity of +subject-matter which makes him seem a genius in +caricature. There is something else, a precious +sense of human proportion as well as literary pro- +portion. This permits one to insist on him be- + + +INTRODUCTION vii + +yond the literary reservation, to say that he stands +high and alone. The curious thing, however, is +to read the man who revealed for the eye the +discrepancy between Queen Victoria and her regal +furnitures. Curious, because you find in his verbal +domain precisely the same kind of inclination and +the same kind of power. "Zuleika Dobson" is +many sorts of a novel, but first and foremost it +is the emanation of a most subtle and deadly cari- +caturist, a "shrewd and knavish sprite" amongst +mortal men. + There is, according to the sagacious, a secret +excellence in "Zuleika Dobson." They see in it a +caricature of a specific classical theme. If one +have not the clue to this heroical story, they mur- +mur, the finer points of the novel are lost. This is +impressive, but it is consoling to discover how +such enjoyment is left for the ordinary open- +faced unclassical citizen. No one can deny to +"Zuleika Dobson" its consummate literary flavor. +Its literary flavor is one of its perfections. But +literary flavor is one of the most popular sources +of pleasure, and the strength of "Zuleika" is such +that no particular legend, no definite mythology, +is needed to give it edge. Classic as the Duke +of Dorset may be ("fourteenth Duke of Dorset, +Marquis of Dorset, Earl of Grove, Earl of Chas- +termaine, Viscount Brewsby, Baron Grove, Baron +Petstrap, and Baron Wolock, in the Peerage of +England") the charm of his portrayal, both as + + +viii INTRODUCTION + +a personage by himself and as the desperate lover +of Zuleika, is the appreciation, the devilish ap- +preciation, Max Beerbohm exhibits of the eternal +verity, <i>noblesse oblige</i>. There may be sly rem- +iniscences of Homer in the heroics of the Duke +of Dorset, fittingly displayed at Oxford, yet +Homer is only a lamp to cast another silhouette +of the duke. By himself he is complete, a model +of such austere masculine nobility as only our +great receding civilization could have produced. + Zuleika, of course, is herself a romantic por- +trait of the first order, and it is perfectly easy to +believe that she turned the head of Oxford youth +("youth, youth!"), in the manner that Mr. Beer- +bohm patiently and scrupulously describes. But +while Zuleika has the imperishable attributes of a +sex enslaving or enslaved, illustrated with a cruel +disregard of undergraduate life at the beginning +of Chapter XXI, there is something even more +sexually characteristic in Dorset's male style +and posture, his nature lofty and nonpareil. +Without the noble Dorset to mark the abysms +of tragedy, Oxford would not be quite Oxford +nor Zuleika so Zuleika. And yet beyond Dorset +and Zuleika, Noaks and Oover and Mrs. Batch +and the Warden, it is Oxford, "that mysterious, +inenubilable spirit, spirit of Oxford," which gives +the novel its really deep intonation. A love such +as Mr. Beerbohm bears Oxford could alone have +steeped the book in sentiment as well as satire, + + +INTRODUCTION ix + +beauty as well as mockery -- and beauty the book +possesses. The Rhodes scholar Oover may seem +to an American the best example of the author's +sunny malice, but that is probably because it is +the sententious Oover we know best, Oover for +whom Max Beerbohm has defied the English rule +of impercipience, to whose exact idiom he has +actually listened. One may be sure he has listened +just as faithfully to The MacQuern, and the +Junta ("a member of the Junta can do no +wrong") suggests a most sensitive accuracy in +this country of undergraduate shibboleths, Yale +Locks and Keys. + Only one thing "Zuleika Dobson" lacks that a +regular novel has, and that is dullness. It is a long +story taken at the pace of a sprint, its wit relent- +lessly sustained. But how varied, how ingenious +in incident, how full of funny gesture and dry dis- +crimination, is this undergraduate epic; with such +a gay gallopade of mortality and such decorative +archaism of expression, and such a solicitude for +words. This last may not seem important; it is +still an important constituent of its author. To +most writers words are public characters, to be +handled as the public is handled by thick-skinned +officials, a mob to be regimented and shoved on. +For Max Beerbohm words are persons with their +own physiognomies, with their own frailties and +proclivities, to be humored and made much of. +His delicacy with words, however, is not limp- + + +x INTRODUCTION + +handed. It is part of that strong sensibility which +makes him what he is. + And that, I should say, is a spirit at one with +sweet Puck, "merry wanderer of the night." +Whether in "Zuleika" or his writings on another +scale, he is one of the few pure comedic spirits +of his country. He has the gilt of holding the +mirror up to self-portraiture, of proportioning the +heart and the head. To some it may seem that +Max Beerbohm is "precious" in the sense of man- +nered and artificial, and that the best he does is +to carve cherry stones. This is a misinterpretation +of the best foolery of our time. It is not for noth- +ing that the subtitle of "The Happy Hypocrite" +is "a fairy tale for tired men." Mr. Beerbohm +needs the license of labelled entertainment. But +the fate that attended one of his books issued in +the United States, burned in the end as not mer- +chantable, is a reproach to the public rather than +the author, a fantasy on popular taste. His +dandyism, his daintiness, his restraint and pre- +cision of gesture, have all such inward laughter in +them that they are irresistible, for the reader who +has pounded literary pavements and been jostled +along main traveled roads. To say this may be +clumsy when Max Beerbohm can be as full of +burlesque as follows: + "The very birds in the trees of Trinity were +oppressed and did not twitter. The very leaves +did not whisper. + + +INTRODUCTION xi + + "Out through the railings, and across the road, +prowled a skimpy and dingy cat, trying to look +like a tiger. + "It was all very sinister and dismal." + There are people, in spite of everything, who +still cannot see that cat, or see Max Beerbohm. +That is why downright emphasis on his amusing- +ness, on any subtle man's amusingness, has claims +to be forgiven. But the test, the reward, is wait- +ing for the reader. + + FRANCIS HACKETT. + + + +[page intentionally blank] + + +<b>ZULEIKA DOBSON</b> + + +[page intentionally blank] + + + +<b>ZULEIKA DOBSON</b> + + +I + +THAT old bell, presage of a train, had just +sounded through Oxford station; and the under- +graduates who were waiting there, gay figures +in tweed or flannel, moved to the margin of the +platform and gazed idly up the line. Young +and careless, in the glow of the afternoon sun- +shine, they struck a sharp note of incongruity +with the worn boards they stood on, with the +fading signals and grey eternal walls of that an- +tique station, which, familiar to them and insig- +nificant, does yet whisper to the tourist the last +enchantments of the Middle Age. + At the door of the first-class waiting-room, +aloof and venerable, stood the Warden of Judas. +An ebon pillar of tradition seemed he, in his +garb of old-fashioned cleric. Aloft, between the +wide brim of his silk hat and the white extent +of his shirt-front, appeared those eyes which +hawks, that nose which eagles, had often envied. +He supported his years on an ebon stick. He +alone was worthy of the background. + Came a whistle from the distance. The breast +of an engine was descried, and a long train curving + +7 + + +8 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +after it, under a flight of smoke. It grew and +grew. Louder and louder, its noise foreran it. +It became a furious, enormous monster, and, with +an instinct for safety, all men receded from the +platform's margin. (Yet came there with it, un- +known to them, a danger far more terrible than +itself.) Into the station it came blustering, with +cloud and clangour. Ere it had yet stopped, the +door of one carriage flew open, and from it, in a +white travelling dress, in a toque a-twinkle with +fine diamonds, a lithe and radiant creature slipped +nimbly down to the platform. + A cynosure indeed! A hundred eyes were fixed +on her, and half as many hearts lost to her. The +Warden of Judas himself had mounted on his +nose a pair of black-rimmed glasses. Him espy- +ing, the nymph darted in his direction. The +throng made way for her. She was at his side. + "Grandpapa!" she cried, and kissed the old +man on either cheek. (Not a youth there but +would have bartered fifty years of his future for +that salute.) + "My dear Zuleika," he said, "welcome to Ox- +ford! Have you no luggage?" + "Heaps!" she answered. "And a maid who +will find it." + "Then," said the Warden, "let us drive +straight to College." He offered her his arm, and +they proceeded slowly to the entrance. She +chatted gaily, blushing not in the long avenue of + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 9 + +eyes she passed through. All the youths, under +her spell, were now quite oblivious of the rela- +tives they had come to meet. Parents, sisters, +cousins, ran unclaimed about the platform. Un- +dutiful, all the youths were forming a serried +suite to their enchantress. In silence they fol- +lowed her. They saw her leap into the Warden's +landau, they saw the Warden seat himself upon +her left. Nor was it until the landau was lost +to sight that they turned -- how slowly, and with +how bad a grace! -- to look for their relatives. + Through those slums which connect Oxford +with the world, the landau rolled on towards +Judas. Not many youths occurred, for nearly all +-- it was the Monday of Eights Week -- were +down by the river, cheering the crews. There +did, however, come spurring by, on a polo-pony, +a very splendid youth. His straw hat was en- +circled with a riband of blue and white, and he +raised it to the Warden. + "That," said the Warden, "is the Duke of +Dorset, a member of my College. He dines at +my table to-night." + Zuleika, turning to regard his Grace, saw that +he had not reined in and was not even glancing +back at her over his shoulder. She gave a little +start of dismay, but scarcely had her lips pouted +ere they curved to a smile -- a smile with no +malice in its corners. + As the landau rolled into "the Corn," another + + +10 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +youth -- a pedestrian, and very different -- saluted +the Warden. He wore a black jacket, rusty and +amorphous. His trousers were too short, and he +himself was too short: almost a dwarf. His face +was as plain as his gait was undistinguished. He +squinted behind spectacles. + "And who is that?" asked Zuleika. + A deep flush overspread the cheek of the War- +den. "That," he said, "is also a member of +Judas. His name, I believe, is Noaks." + "Is he dining with us to-night?" asked Zuleika. + "Certainly not," said the Warden. "Most de- +cidedly not." + Noaks, unlike the Duke, had stopped for an +ardent retrospect. He gazed till the landau was +out of his short sight; then, sighing, resumed his +solitary walk. + The landau was rolling into "the Broad," over +that ground which had once blackened under the +fagots lit for Latimer and Ridley. It rolled past +the portals of Balliol and of Trinity, past the +Ashmolean. From those pedestals which inter- +sperse the railing of the Sheldonian, the high +grim busts of the Roman Emperors stared down +at the fair stranger in the equipage. Zuleika +returned their stare with but a casual glance. The +inanimate had little charm for her. + A moment later, a certain old don emerged +from Blackwell's, where he had been buying +books. Looking across the road, he saw, to his + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 11 + +amazement, great beads of perspiration glisten- +ing on the brows of those Emperors. He trem- +bled, and hurried away. That evening, in Com- +mon Room, he told what he had seen; and no +amount of polite scepticism would convince him +that it was but the hallucination of one who had +been reading too much Mommsen. He persisted +that he had seen what he described. It was not +until two days had elapsed that some credence +was accorded him. + Yes, as the landau rolled by, sweat started +from the brows of the Emperors. They, at least, +foresaw the peril that was overhanging Oxford, +and they gave such warning as they could. Let +that be remembered to their credit. Let that in- +cline us to think more gently of them. In their +lives we know, they were infamous, some of them +-- "nihil non commiserunt stupri, saevitiae, im- +pietatis." But are they too little punished, after +all? Here in Oxford, exposed eternally and in- +exorably to heat and frost, to the four winds that +lash them and the rains that wear them away, +they are expiating, in effigy, the abominations of +their pride and cruelty and lust. Who were +lechers, they are without bodies; who were ty- +rants, they are crowned never but with crowns of +snow; who made themselves even with the gods, +they are by American visitors frequently mistaken +for the Twelve Apostles. It is but a little way +down the road that the two Bishops perished for + + +12 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +their faith, and even now we do never pass the +spot without a tear for them. Yet how quickly +they died in the flames! To these Emperors, for +whom none weeps, time will give no surcease. +Surely, it is sign of some grace in them that they +rejoiced not, this bright afternoon, in the evil that +was to befall the city of their penance. + + + +II + +THE sun streamed through the bay-window of +a "best" bedroom in the Warden's house, and +glorified the pale crayon-portraits on the wall, the +dimity curtains, the old fresh chintz. He invaded +the many trunks which -- all painted Z. D. -- +gaped, in various stages of excavation, around the +room. The doors of the huge wardrobe stood, +like the doors of Janus' temple in time of war, +majestically open; and the sun seized this oppor- +tunity of exploring the mahogany recesses. But +the carpet, which had faded under his imme- +morial visitations, was now almost <i>entirely</i> hid- +den from him, hidden under layers of fair fine +linen, layers of silk, brocade, satin, chiffon, mus- +lin. All the colours of the rainbow, materialised +by modistes, were there. Stacked on chairs were +I know not what of sachets, glove-cases, fan-cases. +There were innumerable packages in silver-paper +and pink ribands. There was a pyramid of band- +boxes. There was a virgin forest of boot-trees. +And rustling quickly hither and thither, in and +out of this profusion, with armfuls of finery, was +an obviously French maid. Alert, unerring, like +a swallow she dipped and darted. Nothing es- + +13 + + +14 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +caped her, and she never rested. She had the air +of the born unpacker -- swift and firm, yet withal +tender. Scarce had her arms been laden but +their loads were lying lightly between shelves or +tightly in drawers. To calculate, catch, distribute, +seemed in her but a single process. She was one +of those who are born to make chaos cosmic. + Insomuch that ere the loud chapel-clock tolled +another hour all the trunks had been sent empty +away. The carpet was unflecked by any scrap of +silver-paper. From the mantelpiece, photographs +of Zuleika surveyed the room with a possessive +air. Zuleika's pincushion, a-bristle with new pins, +lay on the dimity-flounced toilet-table, and round +it stood a multitude of multiform glass vessels, +domed, all of them, with dull gold, on which +Z. D., in zianites and diamonds, was encrusted. +On a small table stood a great casket of mala- +chite, initialled in like fashion. On another small +table stood Zuleika's library. Both books were +in covers of dull gold. On the back of one cover +BRADSHAW, in beryls, was encrusted; on the back +of the other, A.B.C. GUIDE, in amethysts, beryls, +chrysoprases, and garnets. And Zuleika's great +cheval-glass stood ready to reflect her. Always +it travelled with her, in a great case specially +made for it. It was framed in ivory, and of +fluted ivory were the slim columns it swung be- +tween. Of gold were its twin sconces, and four +tall tapers stood in each of them. + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 15 + + The door opened, and the Warden, with hos- +pitable words, left his grand-daughter at the +threshold. + Zuleika wandered to her mirror. "Undress +me, Mélisande," she said. Like all who are wont +to appear by night before the public, she had the +habit of resting towards sunset. + Presently Mélisande withdrew. Her mistress, +in a white peignoir tied with a blue sash, lay in a +great chintz chair, gazing out of the bay-window. +The quadrangle below was very beautiful, with +its walls of rugged grey, its cloisters, its grass +carpet. But to her it was of no more interest +than if it had been the rattling court-yard to one +of those hotels in which she spent her life. She +saw it, but heeded it not. She seemed to be think- +ing of herself, or of something she desired, or of +some one she had never met. There was ennui, +and there was wistfulness, in her gaze. Yet one +would have guessed these things to be transient -- +to be no more than the little shadows that some- +times pass between a bright mirror and the bright- +ness it reflects. + Zuleika was not strictly beautiful. Her eyes +were a trifle large, and their lashes longer than +they need have been. An anarchy of small curls +was her chevelure, a dark upland of misrule, +every hair asserting its rights over a not discred- +itable brow. For the rest, her features were not +at all original. They seemed to have been derived + + +16 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +rather from a gallimaufry of familiar models. +From Madame la Marquise de Saint-Ouen came +the shapely tilt of the nose. The mouth was a +mere replica of Cupid's bow, lacquered scarlet +and strung with the littlest pearls. No apple- +tree, no wall of peaches, had not been robbed, nor +any Tyrian rose-garden, for the glory of Miss +Dobson's cheeks. Her neck was imitation-mar- +ble. Her hands and feet were of very mean pro- +portions. She had no waist to speak of. + Yet, though a Greek would have railed at her +asymmetry, and an Elizabethan have called her +"gipsy," Miss Dobson now, in the midst of the +Edvardian Era, was the toast of two hemi- +spheres. Late in her 'teens she had become an +orphan and a governess. Her grandfather had +refused her appeal for a home or an allowance, +on the ground that he would not be burdened +with the upshot of a marriage which he had once +forbidden and not yet forgiven. Lately, how- +ever, prompted by curiosity or by remorse, he +had asked her to spend a week or so of his de- +clining years with him. And she, "resting" be- +tween two engagements -- one at Hammerstein's +Victoria, N.Y.C., the other at the Folies Bergères, +Paris -- and having never been in Oxford, had so +far let bygones be bygones as to come and gratify +the old man's whim. + It may be that she still resented his indifference +to those early struggles which, even now, she + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 17 + +shuddered to recall. For a governess' life she had +been, indeed, notably unfit. Hard she had thought +it, that penury should force her back into the +school-room she was scarce out of, there to +champion the sums and maps and conjugations +she had never tried to master. Hating her work, +she had failed signally to pick up any learning +from her little pupils, and had been driven from +house to house, a sullen and most ineffectual +maiden. The sequence of her situations was the +swifter by reason of her pretty face. Was there +a grown-up son, always he fell in love with her, +and she would let his eyes trifle boldly with hers +across the dinner-table. When he offered her his +hand, she would refuse it -- not because she +"knew her place," but because she did not love +him. Even had she been a good teacher, her +presence could not have been tolerated thereafter. +Her corded trunk, heavier by another packet of +billets-doux and a month's salary in advance, was +soon carried up the stairs of some other house. + It chanced that she came, at length, to be +governess in a large family that had Gibbs for +its name and Notting Hill for its background. +Edward, the eldest son, was a clerk in the city, +who spent his evenings in the practice of amateur +conjuring. He was a freckled youth, with hair +that bristled in places where it should have lain +smooth, and he fell in love with Zuleika duly, at +first sight, during high-tea. In the course of the + + +18 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +evening, he sought to win her admiration by a +display of all his tricks. These were familiar to +this household, and the children had been sent to +bed, the mother was dozing, long before the +séance was at an end. But Miss Dobson, unac- +customed to any gaieties, sat fascinated by the +young man's sleight of hand, marvelling that a +top-hat could hold so many gold-fish, and a hand- +kerchief turn so swiftly into a silver florin. All +that night, she lay wide awake, haunted by the +miracles he had wrought. Next evening, when +she asked him to repeat them, "Nay," he whis- +pered, "I cannot bear to deceive the girl I love. +Permit me to explain the tricks." So he explained +them. His eyes sought hers across the bowl of +gold-fish, his fingers trembled as he taught her +to manipulate the magic canister. One by one, +she mastered the paltry secrets. Her respect for +him waned with every revelation. He compli- +mented her on her skill. "I could not do it more +neatly myself!" he said. "Oh, dear Miss Dob- +son, will you but accept my hand, all these things +shall be yours -- the cards, the canister, the gold- +fish, the demon egg-cup -- all yours!" Zuleika, +with ravishing coyness, answered that if he would +give her them now, she would "think it over." +The swain consented, and at bed-time she retired +with the gift under her arm. In the light of her +bedroom candle Marguerite hung not in greater +ecstasy over the jewel-casket than hung Zuleika + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 19 + +over the box of tricks. She clasped her hands +over the tremendous possibilities it held for her -- +manumission from her bondage, wealth, fame, +power. Stealthily, so soon as the house slum- +bered, she packed her small outfit, embedding +therein the precious gift. Noiselessly, she shut +the lid of her trunk, corded it, shouldered it, +stole down the stairs with it. Outside -- how that +chain had grated! and her shoulder, how it was +aching! -- she soon found a cab. She took a +night's sanctuary in some railway-hotel. Next +day, she moved into a small room in a lodging- +house off the Edgware Road, and there for a +whole week she was sedulous in the practice of +her tricks. Then she inscribed her name on the +books of a "Juvenile Party Entertainments +Agency." + The Christmas holidays were at hand, and be- +fore long she got an engagement. It was a great +evening for her. Her repertory was, it must be +confessed, old and obvious; but the children, in +deference to their hostess, pretended not to know +how the tricks were done, and assumed their pret- +tiest airs of wonder and delight. One of them +even pretended to be frightened, and was led +howling from the room. In fact, the whole thing +went off splendidly. The hostess was charmed, +and told Zuleika that a glass of lemonade would +be served to her in the hall. Other engagements +soon followed. Zuleika was very, very happy. + + +20 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +I cannot claim for her that she had a genuine +passion for her art. The true conjurer finds his +guerdon in the consciousness of work done per- +fectly and for its own sake. Lucre and applause +are not necessary to him. If he were set down, +with the materials of his art, on a desert island, +he would yet be quite happy. He would not +cease to produce the barber's-pole from his +mouth. To the indifferent winds he would still +speak his patter, and even in the last throes of +starvation would not eat his live rabbit or his +gold-fish. Zuleika, on a desert island, would +have spent most of her time in looking for a +man's foot-print. She was, indeed, far too human +a creature to care much for art. I do not say +that she took her work lightly. She thought she +had genius, and she liked to be told that this +was so. But mainly she loved her work as a +means of mere self-display. The frank admira- +tion which, into whatsoever house she entered, +the grown-up sons flashed on her; their eagerness +to see her to the door; their impressive way of +putting her into her omnibus -- these were the +things she revelled in. She was a nymph to +whom men's admiration was the greater part of +life. By day, whenever she went into the streets, +she was conscious that no man passed her with- +out a stare; and this consciousness gave a sharp +zest to her outings. Sometimes she was followed +to her door -- crude flattery which she was too + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 21 + +innocent to fear. Even when she went into the +haberdasher's to make some little purchase of +tape or riband, or into the grocer's -- for she was +an epicure in her humble way -- to buy a tin of +potted meat for her supper, the homage of the +young men behind the counter did flatter and +exhilarate her. As the homage of men became +for her, more and more, a matter of course, the +more subtly necessary was it to her happiness. +The more she won of it, the more she treasured +it. She was alone in the world, and it saved her +from any moment of regret that she had neither +home nor friends. For her the streets that lay +around her had no squalor, since she paced them +always in the gold nimbus of her fascinations. +Her bedroom seemed not mean nor lonely to her, +since the little square of glass, nailed above the +wash-stand, was ever there to reflect her face. +Thereinto, indeed, she was ever peering. She +would droop her head from side to side, she +would bend it forward and see herself from be- +neath her eyelashes, then tilt it back and watch +herself over her supercilious chin. And she would +smile, frown, pout, languish -- let all the emotions +hover upon her face; and always she seemed to +herself lovelier than she had ever been. + Yet was there nothing Narcissine in her spirit. +Her love for her own image was not cold +æstheticism. She valued that image not for its +own sake, but for sake of the glory it always won + + +22 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +for her. In the little remote music-hall, where +she was soon appearing nightly as an "early +turn," she reaped glory in a nightly harvest. She +could feel that all the gallery-boys, because of +her, were scornful of the sweethearts wedged be- +tween them, and she knew that she had but to say +"Will any gentleman in the audience be so good +as to lend me his hat?" for the stalls to rise as +one man and rush towards the platform. But +greater things were in store for her. She was +engaged at two halls in the West End. Her +horizon was fast receding and expanding. Hom- +age became nightly tangible in bouquets, rings, +brooches -- things acceptable and (luckier than +their donors) accepted. Even Sunday was not +barren for Zuleika: modish hostesses gave her +postprandially to their guests. Came that Sunday +night, <i>notanda candidissimo calculo!</i> when she +received certain guttural compliments which made +absolute her vogue and enabled her to command, +thenceforth, whatever terms she asked for. + Already, indeed, she was rich. She was living +at the most exorbitant hotel in all Mayfair. She +had innumerable gowns and no necessity to buy +jewels; and she also had, which pleased her most, +the fine cheval-glass I have described. At the +close of the Season, Paris claimed her for a +month's engagement. Paris saw her and was +prostrate. Boldini did a portrait of her. Jules +Bloch wrote a song about her; and this, for a + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 23 + +whole month, was howled up and down the cob- +bled alleys of Montmartre. And all the little +dandies were mad for "la Zuleika." The jewel- +lers of the Rue de la Paix soon had nothing left +to put in their windows -- everything had been +bought for "la Zuleika." For a whole month, +baccarat was not played at the Jockey Club -- +every member had succumbed to a nobler passion. +For a whole month, the whole demi-monde was +forgotten for one English virgin. Never, even +in Paris, had a woman triumphed so. When the +day came for her departure, the city wore such +an air of sullen mourning as it had not worn since +the Prussians marched to its Elysée. Zuleika, +quite untouched, would not linger in the conquered +city. Agents had come to her from every capital +in Europe, and, for a year, she ranged, in tri- +umphal nomady, from one capital to another. +In Berlin, every night, the students escorted her +home with torches. Prince Vierfünfsechs-Siebe- +nachtneun offered her his hand, and was con- +demned by the Kaiser to six months' confinement +in his little castle. In Yildiz Kiosk, the tyrant +who still throve there conferred on her the Order +of Chastity, and offered her the central couch in +his seraglio. She gave her performance in the +Quirinal, and, from the Vatican, the Pope +launched against her a Bull which fell utterly flat. +In Petersburg, the Grand Duke Salamander +Salamandrovitch fell enamoured of her. Of + + +24 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +every article in the apparatus of her conjuring- +tricks he caused a replica to be made in finest +gold. These treasures he presented to her in +that great malachite casket which now stood on +the little table in her room; and thenceforth it +was with these that she performed her wonders. +They did not mark the limit of the Grand Duke's +generosity. He was for bestowing on Zuleika +the half of his immensurable estates. The Grand +Duchess appealed to the Tzar. Zuleika was con- +ducted across the frontier, by an escort of love- +sick Cossacks. On the Sunday before she left +Madrid, a great bull-fight was held in her honour. +Fifteen bulls received the <i>coup-de-grâce</i>, and +Alvarez, the matador of matadors, died in the +arena with her name on his lips. He had tried +to kill the last bull without taking his eyes off +la divina señorita. A prettier compliment had +never been paid her, and she was immensely +pleased with it. For that matter, she was im- +mensely pleased with everything. She moved +proudly to the incessant music of a pæan, aye! of +a pæan that was always <i>crescendo</i>. + Its echoes followed her when she crossed the +Atlantic, till they were lost in the louder, deeper, +more blatant pæan that rose for her from the +shores beyond. All the stops of that "mighty +organ, many-piped," the New York press, were +pulled out simultaneously, as far as they could +be pulled, in Zuleika's honour. She delighted in + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 25 + +the din. She read every line that was printed +about her, tasting her triumph as she had never +tasted it before. And how she revelled in the +Brobdingnagian drawings of her, which, printed +in nineteen colours, towered between the columns +or sprawled across them! There she was, meas- +uring herself back to back with the Statue of Lib- +erty; scudding through the firmament on a comet, +whilst a crowd of tiny men in evening-dress stared +up at her from the terrestrial globe; peering +through a microscope held by Cupid over a dimin- +utive Uncle Sam; teaching the American Eagle +to stand on its head; and doing a hundred-and- +one other things -- whatever suggested itself to +the fancy of native art. And through all this +iridescent maze of symbolism were scattered +many little slabs of realism. At home, on the +street, Zuleika was the smiling target of all snap- +shooters, and all the snap-shots were snapped up +by the press and reproduced with annotations: +Zuleika Dobson walking on Broadway in the +sables gifted her by Grand Duke Salamander -- +she says "You can bounce blizzards in them"; +Zuleika Dobson yawning over a love-letter from +millionaire Edelweiss; relishing a cup of clam- +broth -- she says "They don't use clams out +there"; ordering her maid to fix her a warm bath; +finding a split in the gloves she has just drawn on +before starting for the musicale given in her +honour by Mrs. Suetonius X. Meistersinger, the + + +26 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +most exclusive woman in New York; chatting at +the telephone to Miss Camille Van Spook, the +best-born girl in New York; laughing over the +recollection of a compliment made her by George +Abimelech Post, the best-groomed man in New +York; meditating a new trick; admonishing a +waiter who has upset a cocktail over her skirt; +having herself manicured; drinking tea in bed. +Thus was Zuleika enabled daily to be, as one +might say, a spectator of her own wonderful life. +On her departure from New York, the papers +spoke no more than the truth when they said she +had had "a lovely time." The further she went +West -- millionaire Edelweiss had loaned her his +private car -- the lovelier her time was. Chicago +drowned the echoes of New York; final Frisco +dwarfed the headlines of Chicago. Like one of +its own prairie-fires, she swept the country from +end to end. Then she swept back, and sailed for +England. She was to return for a second season +in the coming Fall. At present, she was, as I +have said, "resting." + As she sat here in the bay-window of her room, +she was not reviewing the splendid pageant of +her past. She was a young person whose reveries +never were in retrospect. For her the past was +no treasury of distinct memories, all hoarded and +classified, some brighter than others and more +highly valued. All memories were for her but as +the motes in one fused radiance that followed her + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 27 + +and made more luminous the pathway of her +future. She was always looking forward. She +was looking forward now -- that shade of ennui +had passed from her face -- to the week she was +to spend in Oxford. A new city was a new toy +to her, and -- for it was youth's homage that she +loved best -- this city of youths was a toy after her +own heart. + Aye, and it was youths who gave homage to +her most freely. She was of that high-stepping +and flamboyant type that captivates youth most +surely. Old men and men of middle age admired +her, but she had not that flower-like quality of +shyness and helplessness, that look of innocence, +so dear to men who carry life's secrets in their +heads. Yet Zuleika <i>was</i> very innocent, really. +She was as pure as that young shepherdess Mar- +cella, who, all unguarded, roved the mountains +and was by all the shepherds adored. Like Mar- +cella, she had given her heart to no man, had +preferred none. Youths were reputed to have +died for love of her, as Chrysostom died for +love of the shepherdess; and she, like the shep- +herdess, had shed no tear. When Chrysostom +was lying on his bier in the valley, and Marcella +looked down from the high rock, Ambrosio, the +dead man's comrade, cried out on her, upbraiding +her with bitter words -- "Oh basilisk of our moun- +tains!" Nor do I think Ambrosio spoke too +strongly. Marcella cared nothing for men's ad- + + +28 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +miration, and yet, instead of retiring to one of +those nunneries which are founded for her kind, +she chose to rove the mountains, causing despair +to all the shepherds. Zuleika, with her peculiar +temperament, would have gone mad in a nun- +nery. "But," you may argue, "ought not she +to have taken the veil, even at the cost of her +reason, rather than cause so much despair in the +world? If Marcella was a basilisk, as you seem +to think, how about Miss Dobson?" Ah, but +Marcella knew quite well, boasted even, that she +never would or could love any man. Zuleika, +on the other hand, was a woman of really pas- +sionate fibre. She may not have had that con- +scious, separate, and quite explicit desire to be a +mother with which modern playwrights credit +every unmated member of her sex. But she did +know that she could love. And, surely, no woman +who knows that of herself can be rightly censured +for not recluding herself from the world: it is +only women without the power to love who have +no right to provoke men's love. + Though Zuleika had never given her heart, +strong in her were the desire and the need that +it should be given. Whithersoever she had fared, +she had seen nothing but youths fatuously pros- +trate to her -- not one upright figure which she +could respect. There were the middle-aged men, +the old men, who did not bow down to her; but +from middle-age, as from eld, she had a san- + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 29 + +guine aversion. She could love none but a youth. +Nor -- though she herself, womanly, would +utterly abase herself before her ideal -- could she +love one who fell prone before her. And before +her all youths always did fall prone. She was +an empress, and all youths were her slaves. +Their bondage delighted her, as I have said. +But no empress who has any pride can adore one +of her slaves. Whom, then, could proud Zuleika +adore? It was a question which sometimes +troubled her. There were even moments when, +looking into her cheval-glass, she cried out +against that arrangement in comely lines and +tints which got for her the dulia she delighted in. +To be able to love once -- would not that be +better than all the homage in the world? But +would she ever meet whom, looking up to him, +she could love -- she, the omnisubjugant? Would +she ever, ever meet him? + It was when she wondered thus, that the wist- +fulness came into her eyes. Even now, as she +sat by the window, that shadow returned to +them. She was wondering, shyly, had she met +him at length? That young equestrian who had +not turned to look at her; whom she was to meet +at dinner to-night . . . was it he? The ends of +her blue sash lay across her lap, and she was +lazily unravelling their fringes. "Blue and +white!" she remembered. "They were the col- +ours he wore round his hat." And she gave a + + +30 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +little laugh of coquetry. She laughed, and, long +after, her lips were still parted in a smile. + So did she sit, smiling, wondering, with the +fringes of her sash between her fingers, while +the sun sank behind the opposite wall of the +quadrangle, and the shadows crept out across the +grass, thirsty for the dew. + + +III + +THE clock in the Warden's drawing-room had +just struck eight, and already the ducal feet were +beautiful on the white bearskin hearthrug. So +slim and long were they, of instep so nobly +arched, that only with a pair of glazed ox-tongues +on a breakfast-table were they comparable. In- +comparable quite, the figure and face and vesture +of him who ended in them. + The Warden was talking to him, with all the +deference of elderly commoner to patrician boy. +The other guests -- an Oriel don and his wife -- +were listening with earnest smile and submissive +droop, at a slight distance. Now and again, to +put themselves at their ease, they exchanged in +undertone a word or two about the weather. + "The young lady whom you may have noticed +with me," the Warden was saying, "is my +orphaned grand-daughter." (The wife of the +Oriel don discarded her smile, and sighed, with +a glance at the Duke, who was himself an +orphan.) "She has come to stay with me." +(The Duke glanced quickly round the room.) +"I cannot think why she is not down yet." (The +Oriel don fixed his eyes on the clock, as though + +31 + + +32 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +he suspected it of being fast.) "I must ask you +to forgive her. She appears to be a bright, pleas- +ant young woman." + "Married?" asked the Duke. + "No," said the Warden; and a cloud of an- +noyance crossed the boy's face. "No; she de- +votes her life entirely to good works." + "A hospital nurse?" the Duke murmured. + "No, Zuleika's appointed task is to induce de- +lightful wonder rather than to alleviate pain. +She performs conjuring-tricks." + "Not -- not Miss Zuleika Dobson?" cried the +Duke. + "Ah yes. I forgot that she had achieved some +fame in the outer world. Perhaps she has +already met you?" + "Never," said the young man coldly. "But of +course I have heard of Miss Dobson. I did not +know she was related to you." + The Duke had an intense horror of unmarried +girls. All his vacations were spent in eluding +them and their chaperons. That he should be +confronted with one of them -- with such an one +of them! -- in Oxford, seemed to him sheer vio- +lation of sanctuary. The tone, therefore, in +which he said "I shall be charmed," in answer to +the Warden's request that he would take Zuleika +into dinner, was very glacial. So was his gaze +when, a moment later, the young lady made her +entry. + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 33 + + "She did not look like an orphan," said the +wife of the Oriel don, subsequently, on the way +home. The criticism was a just one. Zuleika +would have looked singular in one of those lowly +double-files of straw-bonnets and drab cloaks +which are so steadying a feature of our social +system. Tall and lissom, she was sheathed from +the bosom downwards in flamingo silk, and she +was liberally festooned with emeralds. Her dark +hair was not even strained back from her fore- +head and behind her ears, as an orphan's should +be. Parted somewhere at the side, it fell in an +avalanche of curls upon one eyebrow. From her +right ear drooped heavily a black pearl, from her +left a pink; and their difference gave an odd, be- +wildering witchery to the little face between. + Was the young Duke bewitched? Instantly, +utterly. But none could have guessed as much +from his cold stare, his easy and impassive bow. +Throughout dinner, none guessed that his shirt- +front was but the screen of a fierce warfare +waged between pride and passion. Zuleika, at +the foot of the table, fondly supposed him indif- +ferent to her. Though he sat on her right, not +one word or glance would he give her. All his +conversation was addressed to the unassuming +lady who sat on his other side, next to the War- +den. Her he edified and flustered beyond meas- +ure by his insistent courtesy. Her husband, alone +on the other side of the table, was mortified by + + +34 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +his utter failure to engage Zuleika in small-talk. +Zuleika was sitting with her profile turned to him +-- the profile with the pink pearl -- and was +gazing full at the young Duke. She was hardly +more affable than a cameo. "Yes," "No," "I +don't know," were the only answers she would +vouchsafe to his questions. A vague "Oh really?" +was all he got for his timid little offerings of +information. In vain he started the topic of +modern conjuring-tricks as compared with the +conjuring-tricks performed by the ancient Egyp- +tians. Zuleika did not even say "Oh really?" +when he told her about the metamorphosis of the +bulls in the Temple of Osiris. He primed him- +self with a glass of sherry, cleared his throat. +"And what," he asked, with a note of firmness, +"did you think of our cousins across the water?" +Zuleika said "Yes;" and then he gave in. Nor +was she conscious that he ceased talking to her. +At intervals throughout the rest of dinner, she +murmured "Yes," and "No," and "Oh really?" +though the poor little don was now listening +silently to the Duke and the Warden. + She was in a trance of sheer happiness. At +last, she thought, her hope was fulfilled -- that +hope which, although she had seldom remem- +bered it in the joy of her constant triumphs, had +been always lurking in her, lying near to her +heart and chafing her, like the shift of sackcloth +which that young brilliant girl, loved and lost of + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 35 + +Giacopone di Todi, wore always in secret sub- +mission to her own soul, under the fair soft robes +and the rubies men saw on her. At last, here +was the youth who would not bow down to her; +whom, looking up to him, she could adore. She +ate and drank automatically, never taking her +gaze from him. She felt not one touch of pique +at his behaviour. She was tremulous with a joy +that was new to her, greater than any joy she +had known. Her soul was as a flower in its +opetide. She was in love. Rapt, she studied +every lineament of the pale and perfect face -- +the brow from which bronze-coloured hair rose +in tiers of burnished ripples; the large steel-col- +oured eyes, with their carven lids; the carven +nose, and the plastic lips. She noted how long +and slim were his fingers, and how slender his +wrists. She noted the glint cast by the candles +upon his shirt-front. The two large white pearls +there seemed to her symbols of his nature. They +were like two moons: cold, remote, radiant. Even +when she gazed at the Duke's face, she was aware +of them in her vision. + Nor was the Duke unconscious, as he seemed +to be, of her scrutiny. Though he kept his head +averse, he knew that always her eyes were watch- +ing him. Obliquely, he saw them; saw, too, the +contour of the face, and the black pearl and the +pink; could not blind himself, try as he would. +And he knew that he was in love. + + +36 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + Like Zuleika herself, this young Duke was in +love for the first time. Wooed though he had +been by almost as many maidens as she by youths, +his heart, like hers, had remained cold. But he +had never felt, as she had, the desire to love. He +was not now rejoicing, as she was, in the sensation +of first love; nay, he was furiously mortified by +it, and struggled with all his might against it. +He had always fancied himself secure against any +so vulgar peril; always fancied that by him at +least, the proud old motto of his family -- "<i>Pas si +bete</i>" -- would not be belied. And I daresay, in- +deed, that had he never met Zuleika, the irre- +sistible, he would have lived, and at a very ripe +old age died, a dandy without reproach. For in +him the dandiacal temper had been absolute hith- +erto, quite untainted and unruffled. He was too +much concerned with his own perfection ever to +think of admiring any one else. Different from +Zuleika, he cared for his wardrobe and his toilet- +table not as a means to making others admire +him the more, but merely as a means through +which he could intensify, a ritual in which to +express and realise, his own idolatry. At Eton +he had been called "Peacock," and this nick-name +had followed him up to Oxford. It was not +wholly apposite, however. For, whereas the pea- +cock is a fool even among birds, the Duke had +already taken (besides a particularly brilliant +First in Mods) the Stanhope, the Newdigate, the + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 37 + +Lothian, and the Gaisford Prize for Greek Verse. +And these things he had achieved <i>currente calamo</i>, +"wielding his pen," as Scott said of Byron, "with +the easy negligence of a nobleman." He was now +in his third year of residence, and was reading, +a little, for Literae Humaniores. There is no +doubt that but for his untimely death he would +have taken a particularly brilliant First in that +school also. + For the rest, he had many accomplishments. +He was adroit in the killing of all birds and fishes, +stags and foxes. He played polo, cricket, racquets, +chess, and billiards as well as such things can be +played. He was fluent in all modern languages, +had a very real talent in water-colour, and was +accounted, by those who had had the privilege +of hearing him, the best amateur pianist on this +side of the Tweed. Little wonder, then, that he +was idolised by the undergraduates of his day. +He did not, however, honour many of them with +his friendship. He had a theoretic liking for them +as a class, as the "young barbarians all at play" +in that little antique city; but individually they +jarred on him, and he saw little of them. Yet he +sympathised with them always, and, on occasion, +would actively take their part against the dons. +In the middle of his second year, he had gone so +far that a College Meeting had to be held, and he +was sent down for the rest of term. The Warden +placed his own landau at the disposal of the + + +38 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +illustrious young exile, who therein was driven +to the station, followed by a long, vociferous pro- +cession of undergraduates in cabs. Now, it hap- +pened that this was a time of political excitement +in London. The Liberals, who were in power, +had passed through the House of Commons a +measure more than usually socialistic; and this +measure was down for its second reading in the +Lords on the very day that the Duke left Oxford, +an exile. It was but a few weeks since he had +taken his seat in the Lords; and this afternoon, +for the want of anything better to do, he strayed +in. The Leader of the House was already dron- +ing his speech for the bill, and the Duke found +himself on one of the opposite benches. There +sat his compeers, sullenly waiting to vote for a +bill which every one of them detested. As the +speaker subsided, the Duke, for the fun of the +thing, rose. He made a long speech against the +bill. His gibes at the Government were so scath- +ing, so utterly destructive his criticism of the bill +itself, so lofty and so irresistible the flights of his +eloquence, that, when he resumed his seat, there +was only one course left to the Leader of the +House. He rose and, in a few husky phrases, +moved that the bill "be read this day six months." +All England rang with the name of the young +Duke. He himself seemed to be the one person +unmoved by his exploit. He did not re-appear in +the Upper Chamber, and was heard to speak in + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 39 + +slighting terms of its architecture, as well as of +its upholstery. Nevertheless, the Prime Minister +became so nervous that he procured for him, a +month later, the Sovereign's offer of a Garter +which had just fallen vacant. The Duke accepted +it. He was, I understand, the only undergraduate +on whom this Order had ever been conferred. +He was very much pleased with the insignia, and +when, on great occasions, he wore them, no one +dared say that the Prime Minister's choice was +not fully justified. But you must not imagine that +he cared for them as symbols of achievement and +power. The dark blue riband, and the star scin- +tillating to eight points, the heavy mantle of blue +velvet, with its lining of taffeta and shoulder-knots +of white satin, the crimson surcoat, the great em- +bullioned tassels, and the chain of linked gold, +and the plumes of ostrich and heron uprising from +the black velvet hat -- these things had for him +little significance save as a fine setting, a finer set- +ting than the most elaborate smoking-suit, for that +perfection of aspect which the gods had given him. +This was indeed the gift he valued beyond all +others. He knew well, however, that women care +little for a man's appearance, and that what they +seek in a man is strength of character, and rank, +and wealth. These three gifts the Duke had in +a high degree, and he was by women much courted +because of them. Conscious that every maiden +he met was eager to be his Duchess, he had as- + + +40 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +sumed always a manner of high austerity among +maidens, and even if he had wished to flirt with +Zuleika he would hardly have known how to do +it. But he did not wish to flirt with her. That +she had bewitched him did but make it the more +needful that he should shun all converse with her. +It was imperative that he should banish her from +his mind, quickly. He must not dilute his own +soul's essence. He must not surrender to any +passion his dandihood. The dandy must be celi- +bate, cloistral; is, indeed, but a monk with a +mirror for beads and breviary -- an anchorite, +mortifying his soul that his body may be perfect. +Till he met Zuleika, the Duke had not known the +meaning of temptation. He fought now, a St. +Anthony, against the apparition. He would not +look at her, and he hated her. He loved her, and +he could not help seeing her. The black pearl and +the pink seemed to dangle ever nearer and clearer +to him, mocking him and beguiling. Inexpellable +was her image. + So fierce was the conflict in him that his outward +nonchalance gradually gave way. As dinner drew +to its close, his conversation with the wife of the +Oriel don flagged and halted. He sank, at length, +into a deep silence. He sat with downcast eyes, +utterly distracted. + Suddenly, something fell, plump! into the dark +whirlpool of his thoughts. He started. The + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 41 + +Warden was leaning forward, had just said some- +thing to him. + "I beg your pardon?" asked the Duke. Dessert, +he noticed, was on the table, and he was paring +an apple. The Oriel don was looking at him with +sympathy, as at one who had swooned and was +just "coming to." + "Is it true, my dear Duke," the Warden re- +peated, "that you have been persuaded to play +to-morrow evening at the Judas concert?" + "Ah yes, I am going to play something." + Zuleika bent suddenly forward, addressed him. +"Oh," she cried, clasping her hands beneath her +chin, "will you let me come and turn over the +leaves for you?" + He looked her full in the face. It was like see- +ing suddenly at close quarters some great bright +monument that one has long known only as a +sun-caught speck in the distance. He saw the +large violet eyes open to him, and their lashes +curling to him; the vivid parted lips; and the +black pearl, and the pink. + "You are very kind," he murmured, in a voice +which sounded to him quite far away. "But I +always play without notes." + Zuleika blushed. Not with shame, but with +delirious pleasure. For that snub she would just +then have bartered all the homage she had +hoarded. This, she felt, was the climax. She + + +42 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +would not outstay it. She rose, smiling to the +wife of the Oriel don. Every one rose. The Oriel +don held open the door, and the two ladies passed +out of the room. + The Duke drew out his cigarette case. As he +looked down at the cigarettes, he was vaguely +conscious of some strange phenomenon somewhere +between them and his eyes. Foredone by the agi- +tation of the past hour, he did not at once realise +what it was that he saw. His impression was of +something in bad taste, some discord in his cos- +tume . . . a black pearl and a pink pearl in his +shirt-front! + Just for a moment, absurdly over-estimating +poor Zuleika's skill, he supposed himself a victim +of legerdemain. Another moment, and the import +of the studs revealed itself. He staggered up from +his chair, covering his breast with one arm, and +murmured that he was faint. As he hurried from +the room, the Oriel don was pouring out a tumbler +of water and suggesting burnt feathers. The +Warden, solicitous, followed him into the hall. +He snatched up his hat, gasping that he had +spent a delightful evening -- was very sorry -- was +subject to these attacks. Once outside, he took +frankly to his heels. + At the corner of the Broad, he looked back over +his shoulder. He had half expected a scarlet +figure skimming in pursuit. There was nothing. +He halted. Before him, the Broad lay empty + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 43 + +beneath the moon. He went slowly, mechanically, +to his rooms. + The high grim busts of the Emperors stared +down at him, their faces more than ever tragically +cavernous and distorted. They saw and read in +that moonlight the symbols on his breast. As he +stood on his doorstep, waiting for the door to +be opened, he must have seemed to them a thing +for infinite compassion. For were they not privy +to the doom that the morrow, or the morrow's +morrow, held for him -- held not indeed for him +alone, yet for him especially, as it were, and for +him most lamentably? + + +IV + +THE breakfast-things were not yet cleared away. +A plate freaked with fine strains of marmalade, an +empty toast-rack, a broken roll -- these and other +things bore witness to a day inaugurated in the +right spirit. + Away from them, reclining along his window- +seat, was the Duke. Blue spirals rose from his +cigarette, nothing in the still air to trouble them. +From their railing, across the road, the Emperors +gazed at him. + For a young man, sleep is a sure solvent of +distress. There whirls not for him in the night +any so hideous a phantasmagoria as will not be- +come, in the clarity of next morning, a spruce pro- +cession for him to lead. Brief the vague horror +of his awakening; memory sweeps back to him, +and he sees nothing dreadful after all. "Why +not?" is the sun's bright message to him, and +"Why not indeed?" his answer. After hours of +agony and doubt prolonged to cock-crow, sleep +had stolen to the Duke's bed-side. He awoke late, +with a heavy sense of disaster; but lo! when he +remembered, everything took on a new aspect. + +44 + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 45 + +He was in love. "Why not?" He mocked him- +self for the morbid vigil he had spent in probing +and vainly binding the wounds of his false pride. +The old life was done with. He laughed as he +stepped into his bath. Why should the disseizin +of his soul have seemed shameful to him? He had +had no soul till it passed out of his keeping. His +body thrilled to the cold water, his soul as to a +new sacrament. He was in love, and that was all +he wished for... There, on the dressing-table, +lay the two studs, visible symbols of his love. +Dear to him, now, the colours of them! He took +them in his hand, one by one, fondling them. He +wished he could wear them in the day-time; but +this, of course, was impossible. His toilet fin- +ished, he dropped them into the left pocket of his +waist-coat. + Therein, near to his heart, they were lying +now, as he looked out at the changed world -- the +world that had become Zuleika. "Zuleika!" his +recurrent murmur, was really an apostrophe to +the whole world. + Piled against the wall were certain boxes of +black japanned tin, which had just been sent to +him from London. At any other time he would +certainly not have left them unopened. For they +contained his robes of the Garter. Thursday, +the day after to-morrow, was the date fixed for +the investiture of a foreign king who was now +visiting England: and the full chapter of Knights + + +46 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +had been commanded to Windsor for the cere- +mony. Yesterday the Duke had looked keenly +forward to his excursion. It was only in those +too rarely required robes that he had the sense +of being fully dressed. But to-day not a thought +had he of them. + Some clock clove with silver the stillness of the +morning. Ere came the second stroke, another +and nearer clock was striking. And now there +were others chiming in. The air was confused +with the sweet babel of its many spires, some of +them booming deep, measured sequences, some +tinkling impatiently and outwitting others which +had begun before them. And when this anthem +of jealous antiphonies and uneven rhythms had +dwindled quite away and fainted in one last soli- +tary note of silver, there started somewhere an- +other sequence; and this, almost at its last stroke, +was interrupted by yet another, which went on to +tell the hour of noon in its own way, quite slowly +and significantly, as though none knew it. + And now Oxford was astir with footsteps and +laughter -- the laughter and quick footsteps of +youths released from lecture-rooms. The Duke +shifted from the window. Somehow, he did not +care to be observed, though it was usually at this +hour that he showed himself for the setting of +some new fashion in costume. Many an under- +graduate, looking up, missed the picture in the +window-frame. + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 47 + + The Duke paced to and fro, smiling ecstat- +ically. He took the two studs from his pocket +and gazed at them. He looked in the glass, as +one seeking the sympathy of a familiar. For the +first time in his life, he turned impatiently aside. +It was a new kind of sympathy he needed to-day. + The front door slammed, and the staircase +creaked to the ascent of two heavy boots. The +Duke listened, waited irresolute. The boots +passed his door, were already clumping up the +next flight. "Noaks!" he cried. The boots +paused, then clumped down again. The door +opened and disclosed that homely figure which +Zuleika had seen on her way to Judas. + Sensitive reader, start not at the apparition! +Oxford is a plexus of anomalies. These two +youths were (odd as it may seem to you) subject +to the same Statutes, affiliated to the same Col- +lege, reading for the same School; aye! and +though the one had inherited half a score of noble +and castellated roofs, whose mere repairs cost +him annually thousands and thousands of pounds, +and the other's people had but one little mean +square of lead, from which the fireworks of the +Crystal Palace were clearly visible every Thurs- +day evening, in Oxford one roof sheltered both +of them. Furthermore, there was even some +measure of intimacy between them. It was the +Duke's whim to condescend further in the direc- +tion of Noaks than in any other. He saw in + + +48 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +Noaks his own foil and antithesis, and made a +point of walking up the High with him at least +once in every term. Noaks, for his part, regarded +the Duke with feelings mingled of idolatry and +disapproval. The Duke's First in Mods op- +pressed him (who, by dint of dogged industry, +had scraped a Second) more than all the other +differences between them. But the dullard's envy +of brilliant men is always assuaged by the sus- +picion that they will come to a bad end. Noaks +may have regarded the Duke as a rather pathetic +figure, on the whole. + "Come in, Noaks," said the Duke. "You have +been to a lecture?" + "Aristotle's Politics," nodded Noaks. + "And what were they?" asked the Duke. He +was eager for sympathy in his love. But so little +used was he to seeking sympathy that he could +not unburden himself. He temporised. Noaks +muttered something about getting back to work, +and fumbled with the door-handle. + "Oh, my dear fellow, don't go," said the Duke. +"Sit down. Our Schools don't come on for an- +other year. A few minutes can't make a differ- +ence in your Class. I want to -- to tell you +something, Noaks. Do sit down." + Noaks sat down on the edge of a chair. The +Duke leaned against the mantel-piece, facing him. +"I suppose, Noaks," he said, "you have never +been in love." + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 49 + + "Why shouldn't I have been in love?" asked +the little man, angrily. + "I can't imagine you in love," said the Duke, +smiling. + "And I can't imagine <i>you</i>. You're too pleased +with yourself," growled Noaks. + "Spur your imagination, Noaks," said his +friend. "I <i>am</i> in love." + "So am I," was an unexpected answer, and +the Duke (whose need of sympathy was too new +to have taught him sympathy with others) +laughed aloud. "Whom do you love?" he asked, +throwing himself into an arm-chair. + "I don't know who she is," was another un- +expected answer. + "When did you meet her?" asked the Duke. +"Where? What did you say to her?" + "Yesterday. In the Corn. I didn't <i>say</i> any- +thing to her." + "Is she beautiful?" + "Yes. What's that to you?" + "Dark or fair?" + "She's dark. She looks like a foreigner. She +looks like -- like one of those photographs in the +shop-windows." + "A rhapsody, Noaks! What became of her? +Was she alone?" + "She was with the old Warden, in his car- +riage." + Zuleika -- Noaks! The Duke started, as at an + + +50 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +affront, and glared. Next moment, he saw the +absurdity of the situation. He relapsed into his +chair, smiling. "She's the Warden's niece," he +said. "I dined at the Warden's last night." + Noaks sat still, peering across at the Duke. +For the first time in his life, he was resentful of +the Duke's great elegance and average stature, +his high lineage and incomputable wealth. Hith- +erto, these things had been too remote for envy. +But now, suddenly, they seemed near to him -- +nearer and more overpowering than the First in +Mods had ever been. "And of course she's in +love with you?" he snarled. + Really, this was for the Duke a new issue. So +salient was his own passion that he had not had +time to wonder whether it were returned. Zulei- +ka's behaviour during dinner... But that was +how so many young women had behaved. It +was no sign of disinterested love. It might mean +merely... Yet no! Surely, looking into her eyes, +he had seen there a radiance finer than could have +been lit by common ambition. Love, none other, +must have lit in those purple depths the torches +whose clear flames had leapt out to him. She +loved him. She, the beautiful, the wonderful, had +not tried to conceal her love for him. She had +shown him all -- had shown all, poor darling! only +to be snubbed by a prig, driven away by a boor, +fled from by a fool. To the nethermost corner +of his soul, he cursed himself for what he had + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 51 + +done, and for all he had left undone. He would +go to her on his knees. He would implore her to +impose on him insufferable penances. There was +no penance, how bittersweet soever, could make +him a little worthy of her. + "Come in!" he cried mechanically. Entered +the landlady's daughter. + "A lady downstairs," she said, "asking to see +your Grace. Says she'll step round again later if +your Grace is busy." + "What is her name?" asked the Duke, va- +cantly. He was gazing at the girl with pain-shot +eyes. + "Miss Zuleika Dobson," pronounced the girl. + He rose. + "Show Miss Dobson up," he said. + Noaks had darted to the looking-glass and was +smoothing his hair with a tremulous, enormous +hand. + "Go!" said the Duke, pointing to the door. +Noaks went, quickly. Echoes of his boots fell +from the upper stairs and met the ascending +susurrus of a silk skirt. + The lovers met. There was an interchange of +ordinary greetings: from the Duke, a comment +on the weather; from Zuleika, a hope that he +was well again -- they had been so sorry to lose +him last night. Then came a pause. The land- +lady's daughter was clearing away the breakfast- +things. Zuleika glanced comprehensively at the + + +52 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +room, and the Duke gazed at the hearthrug. The +landlady's daughter clattered out with her freight. +They were alone. + "How pretty!" said Zuleika. She was looking +at his star of the Garter, which sparkled from a +litter of books and papers on a small side-table. + "Yes," he answered. "It is pretty, isn't it?" + "Awfully pretty!" she rejoined. + This dialogue led them to another hollow +pause. The Duke's heart beat violently within +him. Why had he not asked her to take the star +and keep it as a gift? Too late now! Why could +he not throw himself at her feet? Here were +two beings, lovers of each other, with none by. +And yet... + She was examining a water-colour on the wall, +seemed to be absorbed by it. He watched her. +She was even lovelier than he had remembered; +or rather her loveliness had been, in some subtle +way, transmuted. Something had given to her a +graver, nobler beauty. Last night's nymph had +become the Madonna of this morning. Despite +her dress, which was of a tremendous tartan, she +diffused the pale authentic radiance of a spiritu- +ality most high, most simple. The Duke won- +dered where lay the change in her. He could +not understand. Suddenly she turned to him, and +he understood. No longer the black pearl and +the pink, but two white pearls!... He thrilled to +his heart's core. + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 53 + + "I hope," said Zuleika, "you aren't awfully +vexed with me for coming like this?" + "Not at all," said the Duke. "I am delighted +to see you." How inadequate the words sounded, +how formal and stupid! + "The fact is," she continued, "I don't know a +soul in Oxford. And I thought perhaps you'd +give me luncheon, and take me to see the boat- +races. Will you?" + "I shall be charmed," he said, pulling the bell- +rope. Poor fool! he attributed the shade of dis- +appointment on Zuleika's face to the coldness of +his tone. He would dispel that shade. He would +avow himself. He would leave her no longer in +this false position. So soon as he had told them +about the meal, he would proclaim his passion. + The bell was answered by the landlady's +daughter. + "Miss Dobson will stay to luncheon," said the +Duke. The girl withdrew. He wished he could +have asked her not to. + He steeled himself. "Miss Dobson," he said, +"I wish to apologise to you." + Zuleika looked at him eagerly. "You can't +give me luncheon? You've got something better +to do?" + "No. I wish to ask you to forgive me for my +behaviour last night." + "There is nothing to forgive." + "There is. My manners were vile. I know + + +54 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +well what happened. Though you, too, cannot +have forgotten, I won't spare myself the recital. +You were my hostess, and I ignored you. Mag- +nanimous, you paid me the prettiest compliment +woman ever paid to man, and I insulted you. +I left the house in order that I might not see you +again. To the doorsteps down which he should +have kicked me, your grandfather followed me +with words of kindliest courtesy. If he had sped +me with a kick so skilful that my skull had been +shattered on the kerb, neither would he have +outstepped those bounds set to the conduct of +English gentlemen, nor would you have garnered +more than a trifle on account of your proper +reckoning. I do not say that you are the first +person whom I have wantonly injured. But it is +a fact that I, in whom pride has ever been the +topmost quality, have never expressed sorrow to +any one for anything. Thus, I might urge that +my present abjectness must be intolerably painful +to me, and should incline you to forgive. But +such an argument were specious merely. I will +be quite frank with you. I will confess to you +that, in this humbling of myself before you, I +take a pleasure as passionate as it is strange. A +confusion of feelings? Yet you, with a woman's +instinct, will have already caught the clue to it. +It needs no mirror to assure me that the clue is +here for you, in my eyes. It needs no dictionary +of quotations to remind me that the eyes are the + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 55 + +windows of the soul. And I know that from two +open windows my soul has been leaning and sig- +nalling to you, in a code far more definitive and +swifter than words of mine, that I love you." + Zuleika, listening to him, had grown gradually +paler and paler. She had raised her hands and +cowered as though he were about to strike her. +And then, as he pronounced the last three words, +she had clasped her hands to her face and with a +wild sob darted away from him. She was leaning +now against the window, her head bowed and her +shoulders quivering. + The Duke came softly behind her. "Why +should you cry? Why should you turn away from +me? Did I frighten you with the suddenness of +my words? I am not versed in the tricks of +wooing. I should have been more patient. But +I love you so much that I could hardly have +waited. A secret hope that you loved me too em- +boldened me, compelled me. You <i>do</i> love me. I +know it. And, knowing it, I do but ask you to +give yourself to me, to be my wife. Why should +you cry? Why should you shrink from me? +Dear, if there were anything ... any secret ... if +you had ever loved and been deceived, do you +think I should honour you the less deeply, should +not cherish you the more tenderly? Enough for +me, that you are mine. Do you think I should +ever reproach you for anything that may +have --" + + +56 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + Zuleika turned on him. "How dare you?" she +gasped. "How dare you speak to me like that?" + The Duke reeled back. Horror had come into +his eyes. "You do not love me!" he cried. +"<i>Love</i> you?" she retorted. "<i>You?</i>" + "You no longer love me. Why? Why?" + "What do you mean?" + "You loved me. Don't trifle with me. You +came to me loving me with all your heart." + "How do you know?" + "Look in the glass." She went at his bidding. +He followed her. "You see them?" he said, +after a long pause. Zuleika nodded. The two +pearls quivered to her nod. + "They were white when you came to me," he +sighed. "They were white because you loved +me. From them it was that I knew you loved +me even as I loved you. But their old colours +have come back to them. That is how I know +that your love for me is dead." + Zuleika stood gazing pensively, twitching the +two pearls between her fingers. Tears gathered +in her eyes. She met the reflection of her lover's +eyes, and her tears brimmed over. She buried +her face in her hands, and sobbed like a child. + Like a child's, her sobbing ceased quite sud- +denly. She groped for her handkerchief, angrily +dried her eyes, and straightened and smoothed +herself. + "Now I'm going," she said. + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 57 + + "You came here of your own accord, because +you loved me," said the Duke. "And you shall +not go till you have told me why you have left +off loving me." + "How did you know I loved you?" she asked +after a pause. "How did you know I hadn't +simply put on another pair of ear-rings?" + The Duke, with a melancholy laugh, drew the +two studs from his waistcoat-pocket. "These are +the studs I wore last night," he said. + Zuleika gazed at them. "I see," she said; +then, looking up, "When did they become like +that?" + "It was when you left the dining-room that I +saw the change in them." + "How strange! It was when I went into the +drawing-room that I noticed mine. I was looking +in the glass, and" -- She started. "Then you +were in love with me last night?" + "I began to be in love with you from the mo- +ment I saw you." + "Then how could you have behaved as you +did?" + "Because I was a pedant. I tried to ignore +you, as pedants always do try to ignore any fact +they cannot fit into their pet system. The basis +of my pet system was celibacy. I don't mean the +mere state of being a bachelor. I mean celibacy +of the soul -- egoism, in fact. You have converted +me from that. I am now a confirmed tuist." + + +58 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + "How dared you insult me?" she cried, with +a stamp of her foot. "How dared you make a +fool of me before those people? Oh, it is too +infamous!" + "I have already asked you to forgive me for +that. You said there was nothing to forgive." + "I didn't dream that you were in love with +me." + "What difference can that make?" + "All the difference! All the difference in life!" + "Sit down! You bewilder me," said the Duke. +"Explain yourself!" he commanded. + "Isn't that rather much for a man to ask of a +woman?" + "I don't know. I have no experience of +women. In the abstract, it seems to me that every +man has a right to some explanation from the +woman who has ruined his life." + "You are frightfully sorry for yourself," said +Zuleika, with a bitter laugh. "Of course it doesn't +occur to you that <i>I</i> am at all to be pitied. No! +you are blind with selfishness. You love me -- I +don't love you: that is all you can realise. Prob- +ably you think you are the first man who has ever +fallen on such a plight." + Said the Duke, bowing over a deprecatory +hand, "If there were to pass my window one +tithe of them whose hearts have been lost to +Miss Dobson, I should win no solace from that +interminable parade." + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 59 + + Zuleika blushed. "Yet," she said more gently, +"be sure they would all be not a little envious of +<i>you!</i> Not one of them ever touched the surface +of my heart. You stirred my heart to its very +depths. Yes, you made me love you madly. The +pearls told you no lie. You were my idol -- the +one thing in the wide world to me. You were so +different from any man I had ever seen except in +dreams. You did not make a fool of yourself. +I admired you. I respected you. I was all afire +with adoration of you. And now," she passed +her hand across her eyes, "now it is all over. +The idol has come sliding down its pedestal to +fawn and grovel with all the other infatuates in +the dust about my feet." + The Duke looked thoughtfully at her. "I +thought," he said, "that you revelled in your +power over men's hearts. I had always heard +that you lived for admiration." + "Oh," said Zuleika, "of course I like being +admired. Oh yes, I like all that very much in- +deed. In a way, I suppose, I'm even pleased that +<i>you</i> admire me. But oh, what a little miserable +pleasure that is in comparison with the rapture I +have forfeited! I had never known the rapture +of being in love. I had longed for it, but I had +never guessed how wonderfully wonderful it was. +It came to me. I shuddered and wavered like a +fountain in the wind. I was more helpless and +flew lightlier than a shred of thistledown among + + +60 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +the stars. All night long, I could not sleep for +love of you; nor had I any desire of sleep, save +that it might take me to you in a dream. I +remember nothing that happened to me this morn- +ing before I found myself at your door." + "Why did you ring the bell? Why didn't you +walk away?" + "Why? I had come to see you, to be near +you, to be <i>with</i> you." + "To force yourself on me." + "Yes." I + "You know the meaning of the term 'effective +occupation'? Having marched in, how could you +have held your position, unless" -- + "Oh, a man doesn't necessarily drive a woman +away because he isn't in love with her." + "Yet that was what you thought I had done to +you last night." + "Yes, but I didn't suppose you would take the +trouble to do it again. And if you had, I should +have only loved you the more. I thought you +would most likely be rather amused, rather +touched, by my importunity. I thought you +would take a listless advantage, make a plaything +of me -- the diversion of a few idle hours in sum- +mer, and then, when you had tired of me, would +cast me aside, forget me, break my heart. I de- +sired nothing better than that. That is what I +must have been vaguely hoping for. But I had no +definite scheme. I wanted to be with you and I + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 61 + +came to you. It seems years ago, now! How my +heart beat as I waited on the doorstep! 'Is his +Grace at home?' 'I don't know. I'll inquire. +What name shall I say?' I saw in the girl's eyes +that she, too, loved you. Have <i>you</i> seen that?" +"I have never looked at her," said the Duke. +"No wonder, then, that she loves you," sighed +Zuleika. "She read my secret at a glance. +Women who love the same man have a kind of +bitter freemasonry. We resented each other. She +envied me my beauty, my dress. I envied the +little fool her privilege of being always near to +you. Loving you, I could conceive no life sweeter +than hers -- to be always near you; to black your +boots, carry up your coals, scrub your doorstep; +always to be working for you, hard and humbly +and without thanks. If you had refused to see +me, I would have bribed that girl with all my +jewels to cede me her position." + The Duke made a step towards her. "You +would do it still," he said in a low voice. + Zuleika raised her eyebrows. "I would not +offer her one garnet," she said, "now." + "You <i>shall</i> love me again," he cried. "I will +force you to. You said just now that you had +ceased to love me because I was just like other +men. I am not. My heart is no tablet of mere +wax, from which an instant's heat can dissolve +whatever impress it may bear, leaving it blank +and soft for another impress, and another, and + + +62 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +another. My heart is a bright hard gem, proof +against any die. Came Cupid, with one of his +arrow-points for graver, and what he cut on the +gem's surface never can be effaced. There, deeply +and forever, your image is intagliated. No years, +nor fires, nor cataclysm of total Nature, can +efface from that great gem your image." + "My dear Duke," said Zuleika, "don't be so +silly. Look at the matter sensibly. I know that +lovers don't try to regulate their emotions accord- +ing to logic; but they do, nevertheless, uncon- +sciously conform with some sort of logical system. +I left off loving you when I found that you loved +me. There is the premiss. Very well! Is it likely +that I shall begin to love you again because you +can't leave off loving me?" + The Duke groaned. There was a clatter of +plates outside, and she whom Zuleika had envied +came to lay the table for luncheon. + A smile flickered across Zuleika's lips; and +"Not one garnet!" she murmured. + + +V + +LUNCHEON passed in almost unbroken silence. +Both Zuleika and the Duke were ravenously +hungry, as people always are after the stress of +any great emotional crisis. Between them, they +made very short work of a cold chicken, a salad, +a gooseberry-tart and a Camembert. The Duke +filled his glass again and again. The cold classic- +ism of his face had been routed by the new ro- +mantic movement which had swept over his soul. +He looked two or three months older than when +first I showed him to my reader. + He drank his coffee at one draught, pushed +back his chair, threw away the cigarette he had +just lit. "Listen!" he said. + Zuleika folded her hands on her lap. + "You do not love me. I accept as final your +hint that you never will love me. I need not say +-- could not, indeed, ever say -- how deeply, +deeply you have pained me. As lover, I am re- +jected. But that rejection," he continued, striking +the table, "is no stopper to my suit. It does but +drive me to the use of arguments. My pride +shrinks from them. Love, however, is greater +than pride; and I, John, Albert, Edward, Claude, + +63 + + +64 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +Orde, Angus, Tankerton,* Tanville-Tankerton.† +fourteenth Duke of Dorset, Marquis of Dorset, +Earl of Grove, Earl of Chastermaine, Viscount +Brewsby, Baron Grove, Baron Petstrap, and +Baron Wolock, in the Peerage of England, offer +you my hand. Do not interrupt me. Do not toss +your head. Consider well what I am saying. +Weigh the advantages you would gain by accept- +ance of my hand. Indeed, they are manifold and +tremendous. They are also obvious: do not shut +your eyes to them. You, Miss Dobson, what are +you? A conjurer, and a vagrant; without means, +save such as you can earn by the sleight of your +hand; without position; without a home; all un- +guarded but by your own self-respect. That you +follow an honourable calling, I do not for one +moment deny. I do, however, ask you to con- +sider how great are its perils and hardships, its +fatigues and inconveniences. From all these evils +I offer you instant refuge. I offer you, Miss Dob- +son, a refuge more glorious and more augustly +gilded than you, in your airiest flights of fancy, +can ever have hoped for or imagined. I own +about 340,000 acres. My town-residence is in +St. James's Square. Tankerton, of which you +may have seen photographs, is the chief of my +country-seats. It is a Tudor house, set on the +ridge of a valley. The valley, its park, is halved +by a stream so narrow that the deer leap across. + +*Pronounced as Tacton. †Pronounced as Tavvle-Tacton. + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 65 + +The gardens are estraded upon the slope. Round +the house runs a wide paven terrace. There are +always two or three peacocks trailing their +sheathed feathers along the balustrade, and step- +ping how stiffly! as though they had just been +unharnessed from Juno's chariot. Two flights of +shallow steps lead down to the flowers and foun- +tains. Oh, the gardens are wonderful. There +is a Jacobean garden of white roses. Between +the ends of two pleached alleys, under a dome +of branches, is a little lake, with a Triton of +black marble, and with water-lilies. Hither and +thither under the archipelago of water-lilies, dart +gold-fish -- tongues of flame in the dark water. +There is also a long strait alley of clipped yew. It +ends in an alcove for a pagoda of painted porce- +lain which the Prince Regent -- peace be to his +ashes! -- presented to my great-grandfather. +There are many twisting paths, and sudden as- +pects, and devious, fantastic arbours. Are you +fond of horses? In my stables of pine-wood and +plated-silver seventy are installed. Not all of +them together could vie in power with one of the +meanest of my motor-cars." + "Oh, I never go in motors," said Zuleika. +"They make one look like nothing on earth, and +like everybody else." + "I myself," said the Duke, "use them little for +that very reason. Are you interested in farm- +ing? At Tankerton there is a model farm which + + +66 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +would at any rate amuse you, with its heifers and +hens and pigs that are like so many big new toys. +There is a tiny dairy, which is called 'Her +Grace's.' You could make, therein, real butter +with your own hands, and round it into little pats, +and press every pat with a different device. The +boudoir that would be yours is a blue room. Four +Watteaus hang in it. In the dining-hall hang por- +traits of my forefathers -- <i>in petto</i>, your fore- +fathers-in-law -- by many masters. Are you fond +of peasants? My tenantry are delightful creat- +ures, and there is not one of them who remem- +bers the bringing of the news of the Battle of +Waterloo. When a new Duchess is brought to +Tankerton, the oldest elm in the park must be +felled. That is one of many strange old customs. +As she is driven through the village, the children +of the tenantry must strew the road with daisies. +The bridal chamber must be lighted with as many +candles as years have elapsed since the creation of +the Dukedom. If you came into it, there would +be" -- and the youth, closing his eyes, made a +rapid calculation -- "exactly three hundred and +eighty-eight candles. On the eve of the death of +a Duke of Dorset, two black owls come and +perch on the battlements. They remain there +through the night, hooting. At dawn they fly +away, none knows whither. On the eve of the +death of any other Tanville-Tankerton, comes +(no matter what be the time of year) a cuckoo. + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 67 + +It stays for an hour, cooing, then flies away, none +knows whither. Whenever this portent occurs, +my steward telegraphs to me, that I, as head of +the family, be not unsteeled against the shock of a +bereavement, and that my authority be sooner +given for the unsealing and garnishing of the +family-vault. Not every forefather of mine rests +quiet beneath his escutcheoned marble. There +are they who revisit, in their wrath or their re- +morse, the places wherein erst they suffered or +wrought evil. There is one who, every Hallow- +een, flits into the dining-hall, and hovers before +the portrait which Hans Holbein made of him, +and flings his diaphanous grey form against the +canvas, hoping, maybe, to catch from it the fiery +flesh-tints and the solid limbs that were his, and +so to be re-incarnate. He flies against the paint- +ing, only to find himself t'other side of the wall +it hangs on. There are five ghosts permanently +residing in the right wing of the house, two in the +left, and eleven in the park. But all are quite +noiseless and quite harmless. My servants, when +they meet them in the corridors or on the stairs, +stand aside to let them pass, thus paying them +the respect due to guests of mine; but not even the +rawest housemaid ever screams or flees at sight +of them. I, their host, often waylay them and try +to commune with them; but always they glide +past me. And how gracefully they glide, these +ghosts! It is a pleasure to watch them. It is a + + +68 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +lesson in deportment. May they never be laid! +Of all my household-pets, they are the dearest to +me. I am Duke of Strathsporran and Cairngorm, +Marquis of Sorby, and Earl Cairngorm, in the +Peerage of Scotland. In the glens of the hills +about Strathsporran are many noble and nimble +stags. But I have never set foot in my house +there, for it is carpeted throughout with the tar- +tan of my clan. You seem to like tartan. What +tartan is it you are wearing?" + Zuleika looked down at her skirt. "I don't +know," she said. "I got it in Paris." + "Well," said the Duke, "it is very ugly. The +Dalbraith tartan is harmonious in comparison, +and has, at least, the excuse of history. If you +married me, you would have the right to wear it. +You would have many strange and fascinating +rights. You would go to Court. I admit that the +Hanoverian Court is not much. Still, it is better +than nothing. At your presentation, moreover, +you would be given the <i>entrée<i>. Is that nothing to +you? You would be driven to Court in my state- +coach. It is swung so high that the streetsters +can hardly see its occupant. It is lined with rose- +silk; and on its panels, and on its hammer-cloth, +my arms are emblazoned -- no one has ever been +able to count the quarterings. You would be +wearing the family-jewels, reluctantly surrendered +to you by my aunt. They are many and mar- +vellous, in their antique settings. I don't want + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 69 + +to brag. It humiliates me to speak to you as I +am speaking. But I am heart-set on you, and +to win you there is not a precious stone I would +leave unturned. Conceive a <i>parure</i> all of white +stones -- diamonds, white sapphires, white to- +pazes, tourmalines. Another, of rubies and ame- +thysts, set in gold filigree. Rings that once were +poison-combs on Florentine fingers. Red roses +for your hair -- every petal a hollowed ruby. +Amulets and ape-buckles, zones and fillets. Aye! +know that you would be weeping for wonder +before you had seen a tithe of these gauds. Know, +too, Miss Dobson, that in the Peerage of France +I am Duc d'Etretat et de la Roche Guillaume. +Louis Napoleon gave the title to my father for +not cutting him in the Bois. I have a house in +the Champs Elysées. There is a Swiss in its +courtyard. He stands six-foot-seven in his stock- +ings, and the chasseurs are hardly less tall than +he. Wherever I go, there are two chefs in my +retinue. Both are masters in their art, and furi- +ously jealous of each other. When I compliment +either of them on some dish, the other challenges +him. They fight with rapiers, next morning, in +the garden of whatever house I am occupying. I +do not know whether you are greedy? If so, it +may interest you to learn that I have a third chef, +who makes only soufflés, and an Italian pastry- +cook; to say nothing of a Spaniard for salads, an +Englishwoman for roasts, and an Abyssinian for + + +70 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +coffee. You found no trace of their handiwork +in the meal you have just had with me? No; for +in Oxford it is a whim of mine -- I may say a +point of honour -- to lead the ordinary life of an +undergraduate. What I eat in this room is +cooked by the heavy and unaided hand of Mrs. +Batch, my landlady. It is set before me by the +unaided and -- or are you in error? -- loving hand +of her daughter. Other ministers have I none +here. I dispense with my private secretaries. I +am unattended by a single valet. So simple a +way of life repels you? You would never be +called upon to share it. If you married me, I +should take my name off the books of my College. +I propose that we should spend our honeymoon +at Baiae. I have a villa at Baiae. It is there that +I keep my grandfather's collection of majolica. +The sun shines there always. A long olive-grove +secretes the garden from the sea. When you walk +in the garden, you know the sea only in blue +glimpses through the vacillating leaves. White- +gleaming from the bosky shade of this grove are +several goddesses. Do you care for Canova? I +don't myself. If you do, these figures will appeal +to you: they are in his best manner. Do you love +the sea? This is not the only house of mine that +looks out on it. On the coast of County Clare -- +am I not Earl of Enniskerry and Baron Shandrin +in the Peerage of Ireland? -- I have an ancient +castle. Sheer from a rock stands it, and the sea + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 71 + +has always raged up against its walls. Many ships +lie wrecked under that loud implacable sea. But +mine is a brave strong castle. No storm affrights +it; and not the centuries, clustering houris, with +their caresses can seduce it from its hard aus- +terity. I have several titles which for the moment +escape me. Baron Llffthwchl am I, and. . .and +. . .but you can find them for yourself in Debrett. +In me you behold a Prince of the Holy Roman +Empire, and a Knight of the Most Noble Order +of the Garter. Look well at me! I am Heredi- +tary Comber of the Queen's Lap-Dogs. I am +young. I am handsome. My temper is sweet, +and my character without blemish. In fine, Miss +Dobson, I am a most desirable <i>parti</i>." + "But," said Zuleika, "I don't love you." + The Duke stamped his foot. "I beg your par- +don," he said hastily. "I ought not to have done +that. But -- you seem to have entirely missed the +point of what I was saying." + "No, I haven't," said Zuleika. + "Then what," cried the Duke, standing over +her, "what is your reply?" + Said Zuleika, looking up at him, "My reply is +that I think you are an awful snob." + The Duke turned on his heel, and strode to +the other end of the room. There he stood for +some moments, his back to Zuleika. + "I think," she resumed in a slow, meditative +voice, "that you are, with the possible exception + + +72 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +of a Mr. Edelweiss, <i>the</i> most awful snob I have +ever met." + he Duke looked back over his shoulder. He +gave Zuleika the stinging reprimand of silence. +She was sorry, and showed it in her eyes. She +felt she had gone too far. True, he was nothing +to her now. But she had loved him once. She +could not forget that. + "Come!" she said. "Let us be good friends. +Give me your hand!" He came to her, slowly. +"There!" + The Duke withdrew his fingers before she un- +clasped them. That twice-flung taunt rankled +still. It was monstrous to have been called a +snob. A snob! -- he, whose readiness to form +what would certainly be regarded as a shocking +misalliance ought to have stifled the charge, not +merely vindicated him from it! He had forgot- +ten, in the blindness of his love, how shocking the +misalliance would be. Perhaps she, unloving, had +not been so forgetful? Perhaps her refusal had +been made, generously, for his own sake. Nay, +rather for her own. Evidently, she had felt that +the high sphere from which he beckoned was no +place for the likes of her. Evidently, she feared +she would pine away among those strange splen- +dours, never be acclimatised, always be unworthy. +He had thought to overwhelm her, and he had +done his work too thoroughly. Now he must try +to lighten the load he had imposed. + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 73 + + Seating himself opposite to her, "You remem- +ber," he said, "that there is a dairy at +Tankerton?" + "A dairy? Oh yes." + "Do you remember what it is called?" + Zuleika knit her brows. + He helped her out. "It is called 'Her +Grace's'." + "Oh, of course!" said Zuleika. + "Do you know <i>why</i> it is called so?" + "Well, let's see. . .I know you told me." + "Did I? I think not. I will tell you now. . . +That cool out-house dates from the middle of the +eighteenth century. My great-great-grandfather, +when he was a very old man, married <i>en troisièmes +noces<i> a dairy-maid on the Tankerton estate. Meg +Speedwell was her name. He had seen her walk- +ing across a field, not many months after the inter- +ment of his second Duchess, Maria, that great +and gifted lady. I know not whether it was that +her bonny mien fanned in him some embers of his +youth, or that he was loth to be outdone in gra- +cious eccentricity by his crony the Duke of Dew- +lap, who himself had just taken a bride from a +dairy. (You have read Meredith's account of +that affair? No? You should.) Whether it +was veritable love or mere modishness that +formed my ancestor's resolve, presently the bells +were ringing out, and the oldest elm in the park +was being felled, in Meg Speedwell's honour, and + + +74 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +the children were strewing daisies on which Meg +Speedwell trod, a proud young hoyden of a bride, +with her head in the air and her heart in the sev- +enth heaven. The Duke had given her already +a horde of fine gifts; but these, he had said, were +nothing -- trash in comparison with the gift that +was to ensure for her a perdurable felicity. After +the wedding-breakfast, when all the squires had +ridden away on their cobs, and all the squires' +ladies in their coaches, the Duke led his bride +forth from the hall, leaning on her arm, till they +came to a little edifice of new white stone, very +spick and span, with two lattice-windows and a +bright green door between. This he bade her +enter. A-flutter with excitement, she turned the +handle. In a moment she flounced back, red with +shame and anger -- flounced forth from the fair- +est, whitest, dapperest dairy, wherein was all of +the best that the keenest dairy-maid might need. +The Duke bade her dry her eyes, for that it ill +befitted a great lady to be weeping on her wed- +ding-day. 'As for gratitude,' he chuckled, +'zounds! that is a wine all the better for the keep- +ing.' Duchess Meg soon forgot this unworthy +wedding-gift, such was her rapture in the other, +the so august, appurtenances of her new life. +What with her fine silk gowns and farthingales, +and her powder-closet, and the canopied bed she +slept in -- a bed bigger far than the room she had +slept in with her sisters, and standing in a room + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 75 + +far bigger than her father's cottage; and what +with Betty, her maid, who had pinched and teased +her at the village-school, but now waited on her +so meekly and trembled so fearfully at a scolding; +and what with the fine hot dishes that were set +before her every day, and the gallant speeches +and glances of the fine young gentlemen whom +the Duke invited from London, Duchess Meg +was quite the happiest Duchess in all England. +For a while, she was like a child in a hay-rick. +But anon, as the sheer delight of novelty wore +away, she began to take a more serious view of +her position. She began to realise her responsi- +bilities. She was determined to do all that a great +lady ought to do. Twice every day she assumed +the vapours. She schooled herself in the mys- +teries of Ombre, of Macao. She spent hours over +the tambour-frame. She rode out on horse-back, +with a riding-master. She had a music-master to +teach her the spinet; a dancing-master, too, to +teach her the Minuet and the Triumph and the +Gaudy. All these accomplishments she found +mighty hard. She was afraid of her horse. All +the morning, she dreaded the hour when it would +be brought round from the stables. She dreaded +her dancing-lesson. Try as she would, she could +but stamp her feet flat on the parquet, as though +it had been the village-green. She dreaded her +music-lesson. Her fingers, disobedient to her am- +bition, clumsily thumped the keys of the spinet, + + +76 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +and by the notes of the score propped up before +her she was as cruelly perplexed as by the black +and red pips of the cards she conned at the gam- +ing-table, or by the red and gold threads that +were always straying and snapping on her tam- +bour-frame. Still she persevered. Day in, day +out, sullenly, she worked hard to be a great lady. +But skill came not to her, and hope dwindled; +only the dull effort remained. One accomplish- +ment she did master -- to wit, the vapours: they +became for her a dreadful reality. She lost her +appetite for the fine hot dishes. All night long +she lay awake, restless, tearful, under the fine silk +canopy, till dawn stared her into slumber. She +seldom scolded Betty. She who had been so lusty +and so blooming saw in her mirror that she was +pale and thin now; and the fine young gentlemen, +seeing it too, paid more heed now to their wine +and their dice than to her. And always, when +she met him, the Duke smiled the same mocking +smile. Duchess Meg was pining slowly and surely +away... One morning, in Spring-time, she alto- +gether vanished. Betty, bringing the cup of choco- +late to the bedside, found the bed empty. She +raised the alarm among her fellows. They +searched high and low. Nowhere was their mis- +tress. The news was broken to their master, +who, without comment, rose, bade his man dress +him, and presently walked out to the place where +he knew he would find her. And there, to be + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 77 + +sure, she was, churning, churning for dear life. +Her sleeves were rolled above her elbows, and +her skirt was kilted high; and, as she looked back +over her shoulder and saw the Duke, there was +the flush of roses in her cheeks, and the light of +a thousand thanks in her eyes. 'Oh,' she cried, +'what a curtsey I would drop you, but that to +let go the handle were to spoil all!' And every +morning, ever after, she woke when the birds +woke, rose when they rose, and went singing +through the dawn to the dairy, there to practise +for her pleasure that sweet and lowly handicraft +which she had once practised for her need. And +every evening, with her milking-stool under her +arm, and her milk-pail in her hand, she went into +the field and called the cows to her, as she had +been wont to do. To those other, those so august, +accomplishments she no more pretended. She +gave them the go-by. And all the old zest and +joyousness of her life came back to her. Sound- +lier than ever slept she, and sweetlier dreamed, +under the fine silk canopy, till the birds called her +to her work. Greater than ever was her love of +the fine furbelows that were hers to flaunt in, and +sharper her appetite for the fine hot dishes, and +more tempestuous her scolding of Betty, poor +maid. She was more than ever now the cynosure, +the adored, of the fine young gentlemen. And as +for her husband, she looked up to him as the +wisest, kindest man in all the world." + + +78 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + "And the fine young gentlemen," said Zuleika, +"did she fall in love with any of them?" + "You forget," said the Duke coldly, "she was +married to a member of my family." + "Oh, I beg your pardon. But tell me: did they +<i>all</i> adore her?" + "Yes. Every one of them, wildly, madly." + "Ah," murmured Zuleika, with a smile of un- +derstanding. A shadow crossed her face, "Even +so," she said, with some pique, "I don't suppose +she had so very many adorers. She never went +out into the world." + "Tankerton," said the Duke drily, "is a large +house, and my great-great-grandfather was the +most hospitable of men. However," he added, +marvelling that she had again missed the point so +utterly, "my purpose was not to confront you +with a past rival in conquest, but to set at rest a +fear which I had, I think, roused in you by my +somewhat full description of the high majestic life +to which you, as my bride, would be translated." + "A fear? What sort of a fear?" + "That you would not breathe freely -- that you +would starve (if I may use a somewhat fantastic +figure) among those strawberry-leaves. And so I +told you the story of Meg Speedwell, and how +she lived happily ever after. Nay, hear me out! +The blood of Meg Speedwell's lord flows in my +veins. I think I may boast that I have inherited + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 79 + +something of his sagacity. In any case, I can +profit by his example. Do not fear that I, if you +were to wed me, should demand a metamorphosis +of your present self. I should take you as you +are, gladly. I should encourage you to be always +exactly as you are -- a radiant, irresistible member +of the upper middle-class, with a certain freedom +of manner acquired through a life of peculiar +liberty. Can you guess what would be my princi- +pal wedding-gift to you? Meg Speedwell had +her dairy. For you, would be built another out- +house -- a neat hall wherein you would perform +your conjuring-tricks, every evening except Sun- +day, before me and my tenants and my servants, +and before such of my neighbours as might care to +come. None would respect you the less, seeing +that I approved. Thus in you would the pleasant +history of Meg Speedwell repeat itself. You, +practising for your pleasure -- nay, hear me out! +-- that sweet and lowly handicraft which --" + "I won't listen to another word!" cried Zuleika. +"You are the most insolent person I have ever +met. I happen to come of a particularly good +family. I move in the best society. My man- +ners are absolutely perfect. If I found myself +in the shoes of twenty Duchesses simultaneously, +I should know quite well how to behave. As for +the one pair you can offer me, I kick them away -- +so. I kick them back at you. I tell you --" + + +80 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + "Hush," said the Duke, "hush! You are over- +excited. There will be a crowd under my window. +There, there! I am sorry. I thought --" + "Oh, I know what you thought," said Zuleika, +in a quieter tone. "I am sure you meant well. +I am sorry I lost my temper. Only, you might +have given me credit for meaning what I said: +that I would not marry you, because I did not +love you. I daresay there would be great advan- +tages in being your Duchess. But the fact is, I +have no worldly wisdom. To me, marriage is a +sacrament. I could no more marry a man about +whom I could not make a fool of myself than I +could marry one who made a fool of himself +about me. Else had I long ceased to be a spin- +ster. Oh my friend, do not imagine that I have +not rejected, in my day, a score of suitors quite as +eligible as you." + "As eligible? Who were they?" frowned the +Duke. + "Oh, Archduke this, and Grand Duke that, and +His Serene Highness the other. I have a wretched +memory for names." + "And my name, too, will soon escape you, +perhaps?" + "No. Oh, no. I shall always remember yours. +You see, I was in love with you. You deceived +me into loving you. . ." She sighed. "Oh, had +you but been as strong as I thought you. . . Still, +a swain the more. That is something." She + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 81 + +leaned forward, smiling archly. "Those studs -- +show me them again." + The Duke displayed them in the hollow of his +hand. She touched them lightly, reverently, as a +tourist touches a sacred relic in a church. + At length, "Do give me them," she said. "I +will keep them in a little secret partition of my +jewel-case." The Duke had closed his fist. "Do!" +she pleaded. "My other jewels -- they have no +separate meanings for me. I never remember +who gave me this one or that. These would be +quite different. I should always remember their +history... Do!" + "Ask me for anything else," said the Duke. +"These are the one thing I could not part with -- +even to you, for whose sake they are hallowed." + Zuleika pouted. On the verge of persisting, +she changed her mind, and was silent. + "Well!" she said abruptly, "how about these +races? Are you going to take me to see them?" + "Races? What races?" murmured the Duke. +"Oh yes. I had forgotten. Do you really mean +that you want to see them?" + "Why, of course! They are great fun, aren't +they?" + "And you are in a mood for great fun? Well, +there is plenty of time. The Second Division is +not rowed till half-past four." + "The Second Division? Why not take me to +the First?" + + +82 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + "That is not rowed till six." + "Isn't this rather an odd arrangement?" + "No doubt. But Oxford never pretended to +be strong in mathematics." + "Why, it's not yet three!" cried Zuleika, with +a woebegone stare at the clock. "What is to be +done in the meantime?" + "Am not I sufficiently diverting?" asked the +Duke bitterly. + "Quite candidly, no. Have you any friend +lodging with you here?" + "One, overhead. A man named Noaks." + "A small man, with spectacles?" + "Very small, with very large spectacles." + "He was pointed out to me yesterday, as I was +driving from the Station. . . No, I don't think +I want to meet him. What can you have in com- +mon with him?" + "One frailty, at least: he, too, Miss Dobson, +loves you." + "But of course he does. He saw me drive past. +Very few of the others," she said, rising and +shaking herself, "have set eyes on me. Do let +us go out and look at the Colleges. I do need +change of scene. If you were a doctor, you would +have prescribed that long ago. It is very bad for +me to be here, a kind of Cinderella, moping over +the ashes of my love for you. Where is your +hat?" + Looking round, she caught sight of herself in + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 83 + +the glass. "Oh," she cried, "what a fright I do +look! I must never be seen like this!" + "You look very beautiful." + "I don't. That is a lover's illusion. You your- +self told me that this tartan was perfectly hideous. +There was no need to tell me that. I came thus +because I was coming to see you. I chose this +frock in the deliberate fear that you, if I made +myself presentable, might succumb at second sight +of me. I would have sent out for a sack and +dressed myself in that, I would have blacked my +face all over with burnt cork, only I was afraid +of being mobbed on the way to you." + "Even so, you would but have been mobbed +for your incorrigible beauty." + "My beauty! How I hate it!" sighed Zuleika. +"Still, here it is, and I must needs make the best +of it. Come! Take me to Judas. I will change +my things. Then I shall be fit for the races." + As these two emerged, side by side, into the +street, the Emperors exchanged stony sidelong +glances. For they saw the more than normal +pallor of the Duke's face, and something very +like desperation in his eyes. They saw the tragedy +progressing to its foreseen close. Unable to stay +its course, they were grimly fascinated now. + + +VI + +"THE evil that men do lives after them; the good +is oft interred with their bones." At any rate, +the sinner has a better chance than the saint of +being hereafter remembered. We, in whom +original sin preponderates, find him easier to +understand. He is near to us, clear to us. The +saint is remote, dim. A very great saint may, of +course, be remembered through some sheer force +of originality in him; and then the very mystery +that involves him for us makes him the harder +to forget: he haunts us the more surely because +we shall never understand him. But the ordinary +saints grow faint to posterity; whilst quite ordi- +nary sinners pass vividly down the ages. + Of the disciples of Jesus, which is he that is +most often remembered and cited by us? Not the +disciple whom Jesus loved; neither of the +Boanerges, nor any other of them who so stead- +fastly followed Him and served Him; but the +disciple who betrayed Him for thirty pieces of +silver. Judas Iscariot it is who outstands, over- +shadowing those other fishermen. And perhaps it +was by reason of this precedence that Christopher +Whitrid, Knight, in the reign of Henry VI., gave + +84 + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 85 + +the name of Judas to the College which he had +founded. Or perhaps it was because he felt that +in a Christian community not even the meanest +and basest of men should be accounted beneath +contempt, beyond redemption. + At any rate, thus he named his foundation. +And, though for Oxford men the savour of the +name itself has long evaporated through its local +connexion, many things show that for the Founder +himself it was no empty vocable. In a niche above +the gate stands a rudely carved statue of Judas, +holding a money-bag in his right hand. Among +the original statutes of the College is one by +which the Bursar is enjoined to distribute in Pas- +sion Week thirty pieces of silver among the need- +ier scholars "for saike of atonynge." The +meadow adjoining the back of the College has +been called from time immemorial "the Potter's +Field." And the name of Salt Cellar is not less +ancient and significant. + Salt Cellar, that grey and green quadrangle +visible from the room assigned to Zuleika, is very +beautiful, as I have said. So tranquil is it as to +seem remote not merely from the world, but even +from Oxford, so deeply is it hidden away in the +core of Oxford's heart. So tranquil is it, one +would guess that nothing had ever happened in it. +For five centuries these walls have stood, and dur- +ing that time have beheld, one would say, no sight +less seemly than the good work of weeding, mow- + + +86 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +ing, rolling, that has made, at length, so exem- +plary the lawn. These cloisters that grace the +south and east sides -- five centuries have passed +through them, leaving in them no echo, leaving on +them no sign, of all that the outer world, for good +or evil, has been doing so fiercely, so raucously. + And yet, if you are versed in the antiquities of +Oxford, you know that this small, still quadrangle +has played its part in the rough-and-tumble of +history, and has been the background of high +passions and strange fates. The sun-dial in its +midst has told the hours to more than one bygone +King. Charles I. lay for twelve nights in Judas; +and it was here, in this very quadrangle, that he +heard from the lips of a breathless and blood- +stained messenger the news of Chalgrove Field. +Sixty years later, James, his son, came hither, +black with threats, and from one of the hind- +windows of the Warden's house -- maybe, from +the very room where now Zuleika was changing +her frock -- addressed the Fellows, and presented +to them the Papist by him chosen to be their +Warden, instead of the Protestant whom they +had elected. They were not of so stern a stuff as +the Fellows of Magdalen, who, despite His +Majesty's menaces, had just rejected Bishop +Farmer. The Papist was elected, there and then, +<i>al fresco</i>, without dissent. Cannot one see them, +these Fellows of Judas, huddled together round +the sun-dial, like so many sheep in a storm? The + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 87 + +King's wrath, according to a contemporary record, +was so appeased by their pliancy that he deigned +to lie for two nights in Judas, and at a grand +refection in Hall "was gracious and merrie." +Perhaps it was in lingering gratitude for such +patronage that Judas remained so pious to his +memory even after smug Herrenhausen had been +dumped down on us for ever. Certainly, of all +the Colleges none was more ardent than Judas for +James Stuart. Thither it was that young Sir +Harry Esson led, under cover of night, three- +score recruits whom he had enlisted in the sur- +rounding villages. The cloisters of Salt Cellar +were piled with arms and stores; and on its grass +-- its sacred grass! -- the squad was incessantly +drilled, against the good day when Ormond should +land his men in Devon. For a whole month Salt +Cellar was a secret camp. But somehow, at +length -- woe to "lost causes and impossible loyal- +ties" -- Herrenhausen had wind of it; and one +night, when the soldiers of the white cockade lay +snoring beneath the stars, stealthily the white- +faced Warden unbarred his postern -- that very +postern through which now Zuleika had passed +on the way to her bedroom -- and stealthily +through it, one by one on tip-toe, came the King's +foot-guards. Not many shots rang out, nor many +swords clashed, in the night air, before the trick +was won for law and order. Most of the rebels +were overpowered in their sleep; and those who + + +88 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +had time to snatch arms were too dazed to make +good resistance. Sir Harry Esson himself was the +only one who did not live to be hanged. He had +sprung up alert, sword in hand, at the first alarm, +setting his back to the cloisters. There he fought +calmly, ferociously, till a bullet went through his +chest. "By God, this College is well-named!" +were the words he uttered as he fell forward and +died. + Comparatively tame was the scene now being +enacted in this place. The Duke, with bowed +head, was pacing the path between the lawn and +the cloisters. Two other undergraduates stood +watching him, whispering to each other, under the +archway that leads to the Front Quadrangle. +Presently, in a sheepish way, they approached +him. He halted and looked up. + "I say," stammered the spokesman. + "Well?" asked the Duke. Both youths were +slightly acquainted with him; but he was not used +to being spoken to by those whom he had not first +addressed. Moreover, he was loth to be thus +disturbed in his sombre reverie. His manner was +not encouraging. + "Isn't it a lovely day for the Eights?" faltered +the spokesman. + "I conceive," the Duke said, "that you hold +back some other question." + The spokesman smiled weakly. Nudged by the +other, he muttered "Ask him yourself!" + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 89 + + The Duke diverted his gaze to the other, who, +with an angry look at the one, cleared his throat, +and said "I was going to ask if you thought Miss +Dobson would come and have luncheon with me +to-morrow?" + "A sister of mine will be there," explained the +one, knowing the Duke to be a precisian. + "If you are acquainted with Miss Dobson, a +direct invitation should be sent to her," said the +Duke. "If you are not --" The aposiopesis +was icy. + "Well, you see," said the other of the two, +"that is just the difficulty. I <i>am</i> acquainted with +her. But is she acquainted with <i>me?</i> I met her +at breakfast this morning, at the Warden's." + "So did I," added the one. + "But she -- well," continued the other, "she +didn't take much notice of us. She seemed to be +in a sort of dream." + "Ah!" murmured the Duke, with melancholy +interest. + "The only time she opened her lips," said the +other, "was when she asked us whether we took +tea or coffee." + "She put hot milk in my tea," volunteered the +one, "and upset the cup over my hand, and smiled +vaguely." + "And smiled vaguely," sighed the Duke. + "She left us long before the marmalade stage," +said the one. + + +90 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + "Without a word," said the other. + "Without a glance?" asked the Duke. It was +testified by the one and the other that there had +been not so much as a glance. + "Doubtless," the disingenuous Duke said, "she +had a headache. . . Was she pale?" + "Very pale," answered the one. + "A healthy pallor," qualified the other, who +was a constant reader of novels. + "Did she look," the Duke inquired, "as if she +had spent a sleepless night?" + That was the impression made on both. + "Yet she did not seem listless or unhappy?" + No, they would not go so far as to say that. + "Indeed, were her eyes of an almost unnatural +brilliance?" + "Quite unnatural," confessed the one. I + "Twin stars," interpolated the other. + "Did she, in fact, seem to be consumed by +some inward rapture?" + Yes, now they came to think of it, this was +exactly how she <i>had</i> seemed. + It was sweet, it was bitter, for the Duke. "I +remember," Zuleika had said to him, "nothing +that happened to me this morning till I found +myself at your door." It was bitter-sweet to have +that outline filled in by these artless pencils. No, +it was only bitter, to be, at his time of life, living +in the past. + "The purpose of your tattle?" he asked coldly. + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 91 + + The two youths hurried to the point from which +he had diverted them. "When she went by with +you just now," said the one, "she evidently didn't +know us from Adam." + "And I had so hoped to ask her to luncheon," +said the other. + "Well?" + "Well, we wondered if you would re-introduce +us. And then perhaps. . ." + There was a pause. The Duke was touched to +kindness for these fellow-lovers. He would fain +preserve them from the anguish that beset him- +self. So humanising is sorrow. + "You are in love with Miss Dobson?" he asked. + Both nodded. + "Then," said he, "you will in time be thankful +to me for not affording you further traffic with +that lady. To love and be scorned -- does Fate +hold for us a greater inconvenience? You think +I beg the question? Let me tell you that I, too, +love Miss Dobson, and that she scorns me." + To the implied question "What chance would +there be for you?" the reply was obvious. + Amazed, abashed, the two youths turned on +their heels. + "Stay!" said the Duke. "Let me, in justice +to myself, correct an inference you may have +drawn. It is not by reason of any defect in my- +self, perceived or imagined, that Miss Dobson +scorns me. She scorns me simply because I love + + +92 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +her. All who love her she scorns. To see her +is to love her. Therefore shut your eyes to her. +Strictly exclude her from your horizon. Ignore +her. Will you do this?" + "We will try," said the one, after a pause. + "Thank you very much," added the other. + The Duke watched them out of sight. He +wished he could take the good advice he had given +them. . . Suppose he did take it! Suppose he +went to the Bursar, obtained an exeat, fled straight +to London! What just humiliation for Zuleika +to come down and find her captive gone! He +pictured her staring around the quadrangle, +ranging the cloisters, calling to him. He pictured +her rustling to the gate of the College, inquiring +at the porter's lodge. "His Grace, Miss, he +passed through a minute ago. He's going down +this afternoon." + Yet, even while his fancy luxuriated in this +scheme, he well knew that he would not accom- +plish anything of the kind -- knew well that he +would wait here humbly, eagerly, even though +Zuleika lingered over her toilet till crack o' doom. +He had no desire that was not centred in her. +Take away his love for her, and what remained? +Nothing -- though only in the past twenty-four +hours had this love been added to him. Ah, why +had he ever seen her? He thought of his past, +its cold splendour and insouciance. But he knew +that for him there was no returning. His boats + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 93 + +were burnt. The Cytherean babes had set their +torches to that flotilla, and it had blazed like +match-wood. On the isle of the enchantress he +was stranded for ever. For ever stranded on the +isle of an enchantress who would have nothing to +do with him! What, he wondered, should be done +in so piteous a quandary? There seemed to be +two courses. One was to pine slowly and pain- +fully away. The other. . . + Academically, the Duke had often reasoned +that a man for whom life holds no chance of +happiness cannot too quickly shake life off. Now, +of a sudden, there was for that theory a vivid +application. + "Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer" was +not a point by which he, "more an antique Roman +than a Dane," was at all troubled. Never had he +given ear to that cackle which is called Public +Opinion. The judgment of his peers -- this, he +had often told himself, was the sole arbitrage he +could submit to; but then, who was to be on the +bench? Peerless, he was irresponsible -- the cap- +tain of his soul, the despot of his future. No +injunction but from himself would he bow to; +and his own injunctions -- so little Danish was he +-- had always been peremptory and lucid. Lucid +and peremptory, now, the command he issued to +himself. + "So sorry to have been so long," carolled a +voice from above. The Duke looked up. "I'm + + +94 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +all but ready," said Zuleika at her window. + That brief apparition changed the colour of his +resolve. He realised that to die for love of this +lady would be no mere measure of precaution, or +counsel of despair. It would be in itself a pas- +sionate indulgence -- a fiery rapture, not to be +foregone. What better could he ask than to die +for his love? Poor indeed seemed to him now +the sacrament of marriage beside the sacra- +ment of death. Death was incomparably the +greater, the finer soul. Death was the one true +bridal. + He flung back his head, spread wide his arms, +quickened his pace almost to running speed. Ah, +he would win his bride before the setting of the +sun. He knew not by what means he would win +her. Enough that even now, full-hearted, fleet- +footed, he was on his way to her, and that she +heard him coming. + When Zuleika, a vision in vaporous white, came +out through the postern, she wondered why he +was walking at so remarkable a pace. To him, +wildly expressing in his movement the thought +within him, she appeared as his awful bride. With +a cry of joy, he bounded towards her, and would +have caught her in his arms, had she not stepped +nimbly aside. + "Forgive me!" he said, after a pause. "It was +a mistake -- an idiotic mistake of identity. I +thought you were. . ." + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 95 + + Zuleika, rigid, asked "Have I many doubles?" + "You know well that in all the world is none +so blest as to be like you. I can only say that +I was over-wrought. I can only say that it shall +not occur again." + She was very angry indeed. Of his penitence +there could be no doubt. But there are outrages +for which no penitence can atone. This seemed +to be one of them. Her first impulse was to dis- +miss the Duke forthwith and for ever. But she +wanted to show herself at the races. And she +could not go alone. And except the Duke there +was no one to take her. True, there was the con- +cert to-night; and she could show herself there to +advantage; but she wanted <i>all</i> Oxford to see her +-- see her <i>now</i>. + "I am forgiven?" he asked. In her, I am +afraid, self-respect outweighed charity. "I will +try," she said merely, "to forget what you have +done." Motioning him to her side, she opened +her parasol, and signified her readiness to start. + They passed together across the vast gravelled +expanse of the Front Quadrangle. In the porch +of the College there were, as usual, some chained- +up dogs, patiently awaiting their masters. Zuleika, +of course, did not care for dogs. One has never +known a good man to whom dogs were not dear; +but many of the best women have no such fond- +ness. You will find that the woman who is really +kind to dogs is always one who has failed to + + +96 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +inspire sympathy in men. For the attractive +woman, dogs are mere dumb and restless brutes -- +possibly dangerous, certainly soulless. Yet will +coquetry teach her to caress any dog in the pres- +ence of a man enslaved by her. Even Zuleika, it +seems, was not above this rather obvious device +for awaking envy. Be sure she did not at all like +the look of the very big bulldog who was squatting +outside the porter's lodge. Perhaps, but for her +present anger, she would not have stooped en- +dearingly down to him, as she did, cooing over +him and trying to pat his head. Alas, her pretty +act was a failure. The bulldog cowered away +from her, horrifically grimacing. This was +strange. Like the majority of his breed, Corker +(for such was his name) had ever been wistful +to be noticed by any one -- effusively grateful for +every word or pat, an ever-ready wagger and +nuzzler, to none ineffable. No beggar, no burglar, +had ever been rebuffed by this catholic beast. But +he drew the line at Zuleika. + Seldom is even a fierce bulldog heard to growl. +Yet Corker growled at Zuleika. + + +VII + +THE Duke did not try to break the stony silence +in which Zuleika walked. Her displeasure was a +luxury to him, for it was so soon to be dispelled. +A little while, and she would be hating herself for +her pettiness. Here was he, going to die for her; +and here was she, blaming him for a breach of +manners. Decidedly, the slave had the whip- +hand. He stole a sidelong look at her, and could +not repress a smile. His features quickly com- +posed themselves. The Triumph of Death must +not be handled as a cheap score. He wanted to +die because he would thereby so poignantly con- +summate his love, express it so completely, once +and for all. . . And she -- who could say that she, +knowing what he had done, might not, illogically, +come to love him? Perhaps she would devote her +life to mourning him. He saw her bending over +his tomb, in beautiful humble curves, under a star- +less sky, watering the violets with her tears. + Shades of Novalis and Friedrich Schlegel and +other despicable maunderers! He brushed them +aside. He would be practical. The point was, +when and how to die? Time: the sooner the + +97 + + +98 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +better. Manner: . . less easy to determine. He +must not die horribly, nor without dignity. The +manner of the Roman philosophers? But the +only kind of bath which an undergraduate can +command is a hip-bath. Stay! there was the +river. Drowning (he had often heard) was a +rather pleasant sensation. And to the river he +was even now on his way. + It troubled him that he could swim. Twice, +indeed, from his yacht, he had swum the +Hellespont. And how about the animal instinct +of self-preservation, strong even in despair? No +matter! His soul's set purpose would subdue +that. The law of gravitation that brings one to +the surface? There his very skill in swimming +would help him. He would swim under water, +along the river-bed, swim till he found weeds to +cling to, weird strong weeds that he would coil +round him, exulting faintly. . . + As they turned into Radcliffe Square, the Duke's +ear caught the sound of a far-distant gun. He +started, and looked up at the clock of St. Mary's. +Half-past four! The boats had started. + He had heard that whenever a woman was +to blame for a disappointment, the best way to +avoid a scene was to inculpate oneself. He did +not wish Zuleika to store up yet more material +for penitence. And so "I am sorry," he said. +"That gun -- did you hear it? It was the signal +for the race. I shall never forgive myself." + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 99 + + "Then we shan't see the race at all?" cried +Zuleika. + "It will be over, alas, before we are near the +river. All the people will be coming back through +the meadows." + "Let us meet them." + "Meet a torrent? Let us have tea in my rooms +and go down quietly for the other Division." + "Let us go straight on." + Through the square, across the High, down +Grove Street, they passed. The Duke looked up +at the tower of Merton, <i>os oupot authis alla +nyn paunstaton</i>. Strange that to-night it would +still be standing here, in all its sober and solid +beauty -- still be gazing, over the roofs and chim- +neys, at the tower of Magdalen, its rightful bride. +Through untold centuries of the future it would +stand thus, gaze thus. He winced. Oxford walls +have a way of belittling us; and the Duke was +loth to regard his doom as trivial. + Aye, by all minerals we are mocked. Vegeta- +bles, yearly deciduous, are far more sympathetic. +The lilac and laburnum, making lovely now the +railed pathway to Christ Church meadow, were +all a-swaying and a-nodding to the Duke as he +passed by. "Adieu, adieu, your Grace," they +were whispering. "We are very sorry for you -- +very sorry indeed. We never dared suppose you +would predecease us. We think your death a very +great tragedy. Adieu! Perhaps we shall meet in + + +100 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +another world -- that is, if the members of the +animal kingdom have immortal souls, as we +have." + The Duke was little versed in their language; +yet, as he passed between these gently garrulous +blooms, he caught at least the drift of their salu- +tation, and smiled a vague but courteous acknowl- +edgment, to the right and the left alternately, +creating a very favourable impression. + No doubt, the young elms lining the straight +way to the barges had seen him coming; but any +whispers of their leaves were lost in the murmur +of the crowd returning from the race. Here, at +length, came the torrent of which the Duke had +spoken; and Zuleika's heart rose at it. Here was +Oxford! From side to side the avenue was filled +with a dense procession of youths -- youths inter- +spersed with maidens whose parasols were as +flotsam and jetsam on a seething current of straw +hats. Zuleika neither quickened nor slackened +her advance. But brightlier and brightlier shone +her eyes. + The vanguard of the procession was pausing +now, swaying, breaking at sight of her. She +passed, imperial, through the way cloven for her. +All a-down the avenue, the throng parted as +though some great invisible comb were being +drawn through it. The few youths who had +already seen Zuleika, and by whom her beauty +had been bruited throughout the University, were + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 101 + +lost in a new wonder, so incomparably fairer was +she than the remembered vision. And the rest +hardly recognised her from the descriptions, so +incomparably fairer was the reality than the +hope. + She passed among them. None questioned the +worthiness of her escort. Could I give you better +proof the awe in which our Duke was held? Any +man is glad to be seen escorting a very pretty +woman. He thinks it adds to his prestige. +Whereas, in point of fact, his fellow-men are say- +ing merely "Who's that appalling fellow with +her?" or "Why does she go about with that ass +So-and-So?" Such cavil may in part be envy. But +it is a fact that no man, howsoever graced, can +shine in juxtaposition to a very pretty woman. +The Duke himself cut a poor figure beside Zu- +leika. Yet not one of all the undergraduates felt +she could have made a wiser choice. + She swept among them. Her own intrinsic +radiance was not all that flashed from her. She +was a moving reflector and refractor of all the +rays of all the eyes that mankind had turned on +her. Her mien told the story of her days. Bright +eyes, light feet -- she trod erect from a vista whose +glare was dazzling to all beholders. She swept +among them, a miracle, overwhelming, breath- +bereaving. Nothing at all like her had ever been +seen in Oxford. + Mainly architectural, the beauties of Oxford. + + +102 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +True, the place is no longer one-sexed. There +are the virguncules of Somerville and Lady Mar- +garet's Hall; but beauty and the lust for learning +have yet to be allied. There are the innumerable +wives and daughters around the Parks, running +in and out of their little red-brick villas; but the +indignant shade of celibacy seems to have called +down on the dons a Nemesis which precludes them +from either marrying beauty or begetting it. +(From the Warden's son, that unhappy curate, +Zuleika inherited no tittle of her charm. Some of +it, there is no doubt, she did inherit from the +circus-rider who was her mother.) + But the casual feminine visitors? Well, the +sisters and cousins of an undergraduate seldom +seem more passable to his comrades than to him- +self. Altogether, the instinct of sex is not pan- +dered to in Oxford. It is not, however, as it may +once have been, dormant. The modern importation +of samples of femininity serves to keep it alert, +though not to gratify it. A like result is achieved +by another modern development -- photography. +The undergraduate may, and usually does, sur- +round himself with photographs of pretty ladies +known to the public. A phantom harem! Yet the +houris have an effect on their sultan. Surrounded +both by plain women of flesh and blood and by +beauteous women on pasteboard, the undergradu- +ate is the easiest victim of living loveliness -- is as +a fire ever well and truly laid, amenable to a + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 103 + +spark. And if the spark be such a flaring +torch as Zuleika? -- marvel not, reader, at the +conflagration. + Not only was the whole throng of youths +drawing asunder before her: much of it, as she +passed, was forming up in her wake. Thus, with +the confluence of two masses -- one coming away +from the river, the other returning to it -- chaos +seethed around her and the Duke before they +were half-way along the avenue. Behind them, +and on either side of them, the people were +crushed inextricably together, swaying and surg- +ing this way and that. "Help!" cried many a +shrill feminine voice. "Don't push!" "Let me +out!" "You brute!" "Save me, save me!" +Many ladies fainted, whilst their escorts, support- +ing them and protecting them as best they could, +peered over the heads of their fellows for one +glimpse of the divine Miss Dobson. Yet for her +and the Duke, in the midst of the terrific com- +press, there was space enough. In front of them, +as by a miracle of deference, a way still cleared +itself. They reached the end of the avenue with- +out a pause in their measured progress. Nor even +when they turned to the left, along the rather nar- +row path beside the barges, was there any ob- +stacle to their advance. Passing evenly forward, +they alone were cool, unhustled, undishevelled. + The Duke was so rapt in his private thoughts +that he was hardly conscious of the strange scene. + + +104 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +And as for Zuleika, she, as well she might be, +was in the very best of good humours. + "What a lot of house-boats!" she exclaimed. +"Are you going to take me on to one of them?" + The Duke started. Already they were along- +side the Judas barge. "Here," he said, "is our +goal." + He stepped through the gate of the railings, +out upon the plank, and offered her his hand. + She looked back. The young men in the van- +guard were crushing their shoulders against the +row behind them, to stay the oncoming host. She +had half a mind to go back through the midst of +them; but she really did want her tea, and she +followed the Duke on to the barge, and under his +auspices climbed the steps to the roof. + It looked very cool and gay, this roof, under its +awning of red and white stripes. Nests of red +and white flowers depended along either side of +it. Zuleika moved to the side which commanded +a view of the bank. She leaned her arms on the +balustrade, and gazed down. + The crowd stretched as far as she could see -- +a vista of faces upturned to her. Suddenly it hove +forward. Its vanguard was swept irresistibly +past the barge -- swept by the desire of the rest +to see her at closer quarters. Such was the im- +petus that the vision for each man was but a +lightning-flash: he was whirled past, struggling, + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 105 + +almost before his brain took the message of his +eyes. + Those who were Judas men made frantic ef- +forts to board the barge, trying to hurl them- +selves through the gate in the railings; but they +were swept vainly on. + Presently the torrent began to slacken, became +a mere river, a mere procession of youths staring +up rather shyly. + Before the last stragglers had marched by, +Zuleika moved away to the other side of the roof, +and, after a glance at the sunlit river, sank into +one of the wicker chairs, and asked the Duke +to look less disagreeable and to give her some tea. + Among others hovering near the little buffet +were the two youths whose parley with the Duke +I have recorded. + Zuleika was aware of the special persistence of +their gaze. When the Duke came back with her +cup, she asked him who they were. He replied, +truthfully enough, that their names were unknown +to him. + "Then," she said, "ask them their names, and +introduce them to me." + "No," said the Duke, sinking into the chair +beside her. "That I shall not do. I am your +victim: not your pander. Those two men stand +on the threshold of a possibly useful and agree- +able career. I am not going to trip them up for +you." + + +106 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + "I am not sure," said Zuleika, "that you are +very polite. Certainly you are foolish. It is nat- +ural for boys to fall in love. If these two are in +love with me, why not let them talk to me? It +were an experience on which they would always +look back with romantic pleasure. They may +never see me again. Why grudge them this little +thing?" She sipped her tea. "As for tripping +them up on a threshold -- that is all nonsense. +What harm has unrequited love ever done to any- +body?" She laughed. "Look at <i>me!</i> When I +came to your rooms this morning, thinking I loved +in vain, did I seem one jot the worse for it? Did +I look different?" + "You looked, I am bound to say, nobler, more +spiritual." + "More spiritual?" she exclaimed. "Do you +mean I looked tired or ill?" + "No, you seemed quite fresh. But then, you +are singular. You are no criterion." + "You mean you can't judge those two young +men by me? Well, I am only a woman, of course. +I have heard of women, no longer young, wasting +away because no man loved them. I have often +heard of a young woman fretting because some +particular young man didn't love her. But I never +heard of her wasting away. Certainly a young +man doesn't waste away for love of some partic- +ular young woman. He very soon makes love +to some other one. If his be an ardent nature, + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 107 + +the quicker his transition. All the most ardent of +my past adorers have married. Will you put my +cup down, please?" + "Past?" echoed the Duke, as he placed her cup +on the floor. "Have any of your lovers ceased to +love you?" + "Ah no, no; not in retrospect. I remain their +ideal, and all that, of course. They cherish the +thought of me. They see the world in terms of +me. But I am an inspiration, not an obsession; +a glow, not a blight." + "You don't believe in the love that corrodes, +the love that ruins?" + "No," laughed Zuleika. + "You have never dipped into the Greek pas- +toral poets, nor sampled the Elizabethan son- +neteers?" + "No, never. You will think me lamentably +crude: my experience of life has been drawn from +life itself." + "Yet often you talk as though you had read +rather much. Your way of speech has what is +called 'the literary flavour'." + "Ah, that is an unfortunate trick which I caught +from a writer, a Mr. Beerbohm, who once sat +next to me at dinner somewhere. I can't break +myself of it. I assure you I hardly ever open a +book. Of life, though, my experience has been +very wide. Brief? But I suppose the soul of +man during the past two or three years has been + + +108 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +much as it was in the reign of Queen Elizabeth +and of -- whoever it was that reigned over the +Greek pastures. And I daresay the modern poets +are making the same old silly distortions. But +forgive me," she added gently, "perhaps you +yourself are a poet?" + "Only since yesterday," answered the Duke +(not less unfairly to himself than to Roger New- +digate and Thomas Gaisford). And he felt he +was especially a dramatic poet. All the while +that she had been sitting by him here, talking so +glibly, looking so straight into his eyes, flashing +at him so many pretty gestures, it was the sense +of tragic irony that prevailed in him -- that sense +which had stirred in him, and been repressed, on +the way from Judas. He knew that she was mak- +ing her effect consciously for the other young +men by whom the roof of the barge was now +thronged. Him alone she seemed to observe. By +her manner, she might have seemed to be making +love to him. He envied the men she was so de- +liberately making envious -- the men whom, in her +undertone to him, she was really addressing. But +he did take comfort in the irony. Though she +used him as a stalking-horse, he, after all, was +playing with her as a cat plays with a mouse. +While she chattered on, without an inkling that +he was no ordinary lover, and coaxing him to pre- +sent two quite ordinary young men to her, he held + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 109 + +over her the revelation that he for love of her +was about to die. + And, while he drank in the radiance of her +beauty, he heard her chattering on. "So you see," +she was saying, "it couldn't do those young men +any harm. Suppose unrequited love <i>is</i> anguish: +isn't the discipline wholesome? Suppose I <i>am</i> +a sort of furnace: shan't I purge, refine, temper? +Those two boys are but scorched from here. That +is horrid; and what good will it do them?" She +laid a hand on his arm. "Cast them into the fur- +nace for their own sake, dear Duke! Or cast one +of them, or," she added, glancing round at the +throng, "any one of these others!" + "For their own sake?" he echoed, withdrawing +his arm. "If you were not, as the whole world +knows you to be, perfectly respectable, there +might be something in what you say. But as it is, +you can but be an engine for mischief; and your +sophistries leave me unmoved. I shall certainly +keep you to myself." + "I hate you," said Zuleika, with an ugly petu- +lance that crowned the irony. + "So long as I live," uttered the Duke, in a +level voice, "you will address no man but me." + "If your prophecy is to be fulfilled," laughed +Zuleika, rising from her chair, "your last moment +is at hand." + "It is," he answered, rising too. + + +110 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + "What do you mean?" she asked, awed by +something in his tone. + "I mean what I say: that my last moment is +at hand." He withdrew his eyes from hers, and, +leaning his elbows on the balustrade, gazed +thoughtfully at the river. "When I am dead," +he added, over his shoulder, "you will find these +fellows rather coy of your advances." + For the first time since his avowal of his love +for her, Zuleika found herself genuinely inter- +ested in him. A suspicion of his meaning had +flashed through her soul. -- But no! surely he could +not mean <i>that!</i> It must have been a metaphor +merely. And yet, something in his eyes. . . She +leaned beside him. Her shoulder touched his. +She gazed questioningly at him. He did not turn +his face to her. He gazed at the sunlit river. + The Judas Eight had just embarked for their +voyage to the starting-point. Standing on the +edge of the raft that makes a floating platform +for the barge, William, the hoary bargee, was +pushing them off with his boat-hook, wishing them +luck with deferential familiarity. The raft was +thronged with Old Judasians -- mostly clergymen +-- who were shouting hearty hortations, and evi- +dently trying not to appear so old as they felt -- +or rather, not to appear so startlingly old as their +contemporaries looked to them. It occurred to +the Duke as a strange thing, and a thing to be +glad of, that he, in this world, would never be + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 111 + +an Old Judasian. Zuleika's shoulder pressed his +He thrilled not at all. To all intents, he was +dead already. + The enormous eight young men in the thread- +like skiff -- the skiff that would scarce have seemed +an adequate vehicle for the tiny "cox" who sat +facing them -- were staring up at Zuleika with +that uniformity of impulse which, in another +direction, had enabled them to bump a boat on +two of the previous "nights." If to-night they +bumped the next boat, Univ., then would Judas +be three places "up" on the river; and to-morrow +Judas would have a Bump Supper. Furthermore, +if Univ. were bumped to-night, Magdalen might +be bumped to-morrow. Then would Judas, for +the first time in history, be head of the river. Oh +tremulous hope! Yet, for the moment, these +eight young men seemed to have forgotten the +awful responsibility that rested on their over- +developed shoulders. Their hearts, already +strained by rowing, had been transfixed this after- +noon by Eros' darts. All of them had seen Zu- +leika as she came down to the river; and now +they sat gaping up at her, fumbling with their +oars. The tiny cox gaped too; but he it was who +first recalled duty. With piping adjurations he +brought the giants back to their senses. The boat +moved away down stream, with a fairly steady +stroke. + Not in a day can the traditions of Oxford be + + +112 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +sent spinning. From all the barges the usual +punt-loads of young men were being ferried across +to the towing-path -- young men naked of knee, +armed with rattles, post-horns, motor-hooters, +gongs, and other instruments of clangour. Though +Zuleika filled their thoughts, they hurried along +the towing-path, as by custom, to the starting- +point. + She, meanwhile, had not taken her eyes off the +Duke's profile. Nor had she dared, for fear of +disappointment, to ask him just what he had +meant. + "All these men," he repeated dreamily, "will +be coy of your advances." It seemed to him a +good thing that his death, his awful example, +would disinfatuate his fellow alumni. He had +never been conscious of public spirit. He had +lived for himself alone. Love had come to him +yesternight, and to-day had waked in him a sym- +pathy with mankind. It was a fine thing to be a +saviour. It was splendid to be human. He looked +quickly round to her who had wrought this +change in him. + But the loveliest face in all the world will not +please you if you see it suddenly, eye to eye, at a +distance of half an inch from your own. It was +thus that the Duke saw Zuleika's: a monstrous +deliquium a-glare. Only for the fraction of an +instant, though. Recoiling, he beheld the loveli- +ness that he knew -- more adorably vivid now in + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 113 + +its look of eager questioning. And in his every +fibre he thrilled to her. Even so had she gazed at +him last night, this morning. Aye, now as then, +her soul was full of him. He had recaptured, not +her love, but his power to please her. It was +enough. He bowed his head; and <i>Moriturus te +saluto</i> were the words formed silently by his lips. +He was glad that his death would be a public +service to the University. But the salutary lesson +of what the newspapers would call his "rash act" +was, after all, only a side-issue. The great thing, +the prospect that flushed his cheek, was the con- +summation of his own love, for its own sake, by +his own death. And, as he met her gaze, the +question that had already flitted through his brain +found a faltering utterance; and "Shall you mourn +me?" he asked her. + But she would have no ellipses. "What are +you going to do?" she whispered. + "Do you not know?" + "Tell me." + "Once and for all: you cannot love me?" + Slowly she shook her head. The black pearl +and the pink, quivering, gave stress to her ulti- +matum. But the violet of her eyes was all but +hidden by the dilation of her pupils. + "Then," whispered the Duke, "when I shall +have died, deeming life a vain thing without you, +will the gods give you tears for me? Miss Dob- +son, will your soul awaken? When I shall have + + +114 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +sunk for ever beneath these waters whose sup- +posed purpose here this afternoon is but that they +be ploughed by the blades of these young oars- +men, will there be struck from that flint, your +heart, some late and momentary spark of pity +for me?" + "Why of course, of <i>course!</i>" babbled Zuleika, +with clasped hands and dazzling eyes. "But," +she curbed herself, "it is -- it would -- oh, you +mustn't <i>think</i> of it! I couldn't allow it! I -- I +should never forgive myself!" + "In fact, you would mourn me always?" + "Why yes!. . Y-es-always." What else +could she say? But would his answer be that he +dared not condemn her to lifelong torment? + "Then," his answer was, "my joy in dying for +you is made perfect." + Her muscles relaxed. Her breath escaped be- +tween her teeth. "You are utterly resolved?" she +asked. "Are you?" + "Utterly." + "Nothing I might say could change your +purpose?" + "Nothing." + "No entreaty, howsoever piteous, could move +you?" + "None." + Forthwith she urged, entreated, cajoled, com- +manded, with infinite prettiness of ingenuity and +of eloquence. Never was such a cascade of dis- + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 115 + +suasion as hers. She only didn't say she could +love him. She never hinted that. Indeed, +throughout her pleading rang this recurrent +<i>motif</i>: that he must live to take to himself as +mate some good, serious, clever woman who +would be a not unworthy mother of his children. + She laid stress on his youth, his great position, +his brilliant attainments, the much he had already +achieved, the splendid possibilities of his future. +Though of course she spoke in undertones, not +to be overheard by the throng on the barge, it +was almost as though his health were being flor- +idly proposed at some public banquet -- say, at a +Tenants' Dinner. Insomuch that, when she +ceased, the Duke half expected Jellings, his +steward, to bob up uttering, with lifted hands, +a stentorian "For-or," and all the company to +take up the chant: "<i>he's -- a jolly good fellow</i>." +His brief reply, on those occasions, seemed al- +ways to indicate that, whatever else he might be, +a jolly good fellow he was not. But by Zuleika's +eulogy he really was touched. "Thank you -- +thank you," he gasped; and there were tears in +his eyes. Dear the thought that she so revered +him, so wished him not to die. But this was no +more than a rush-light in the austere radiance of +his joy in dying for her. + And the time was come. Now for the sacra- +ment of his immersion in infinity. + "Good-bye," he said simply, and was about to + + +116 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +swing himself on to the ledge of the balustrade. +Zuleika, divining his intention, made way for him. +Her bosom heaved quickly, quickly. All colour +had left her face; but her eyes shone as never +before. + Already his foot was on the ledge, when hark! +the sound of a distant gun. To Zuleika, with all +the chords of her soul strung to the utmost tensity, +the effect was as if she herself had been shot; and +she clutched at the Duke's arm, like a frightened +child. He laughed. "It was the signal for the +race," he said, and laughed again, rather bitterly, +at the crude and trivial interruption of high +matters. + "The race?" She laughed hysterically. + "Yes. 'They're off'." He mingled his laugh- +ter with hers, gently seeking to disengage his arm. +"And perhaps," he said, "I, clinging to the weeds +of the river's bed, shall see dimly the boats and +the oars pass over me, and shall be able to gurgle +a cheer for Judas." + "Don't!" she shuddered, with a woman's no- +tion that a jest means levity. A tumult of +thoughts surged in her, all confused. She only +knew that he must not die -- not yet! A moment +ago, his death would have been beautiful. Not +now! Her grip of his arm tightened. Only by +breaking her wrist could he have freed himself. +A moment ago, she had been in the seventh- +heaven. . . Men were supposed to have died for + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 117 + +love of her. It had never been proved. There +had always been something -- card-debts, ill- +health, what not -- to account for the tragedy. No +man, to the best of her recollection, had ever +hinted that he was going to die for her. Never, +assuredly, had she seen the deed done. And then +came he, the first man she had loved, going to +die here, before her eyes, because she no longer +loved him. But she knew now that he must not +die -- not yet! + All around her was the hush that falls on Ox- +ford when the signal for the race has sounded. +In the distance could be heard faintly the noise +of cheering -- a little sing-song sound, drawing +nearer. + Ah, how could she have thought of letting him +die so soon? She gazed into his face -- the face +she might never have seen again. Even now, but +for that gun-shot, the waters would have closed +over him, and his soul, maybe, have passed away. +She had saved him, thank heaven! She had him +still with her. + Gently, vainly, he still sought to unclasp her +fingers from his arm. + "Not now!" she whispered. "Not yet!" + And the noise of the cheering, and of the +trumpeting and rattling, as it drew near, was an +accompaniment to her joy in having saved her +lover. She would keep him with her -- for a +while! Let all be done in order. She would + + +118 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +savour the full sweetness of his sacrifice. To- +morrow -- to-morrow, yes, let him have his heart's +desire of death. Not now! Not yet! + "To-morrow," she whispered, "to-morrow, if +you will. Not yet!" + The first boat came jerking past in mid-stream; +and the towing-path, with its serried throng of +runners, was like a live thing, keeping pace. As +in a dream, Zuleika saw it. And the din was in +her ears. No heroine of Wagner had ever a +louder accompaniment than had ours to the surg- +ing soul within her bosom. + And the Duke, tightly held by her, vibrated +as to a powerful electric current. He let her +cling to him, and her magnetism range through +him. Ah, it was good not to have died! Fool, +he had meant to drain off-hand, at one coarse +draught, the delicate wine of death. He would +let his lips caress the brim of the august goblet. +He would dally with the aroma that was there. + +"So be it!" he cried into Zuleika's ear -- cried +loudly, for it seemed as though all the Wagnerian +orchestras of Europe, with the Straussian ones +thrown in, were here to clash in unison the full +volume of right music for the glory of the +reprieve. + The fact was that the Judas boat had just +bumped Univ., exactly opposite the Judas barge. +The oarsmen in either boat sat humped, panting, +some of them rocking and writhing, after their + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 119 + +wholesome exercise. But there was not one of +them whose eyes were not upcast at Zuleika. And +the vocalisation and instrumentation of the +dancers and stampers on the towing-path had by +this time ceased to mean aught of joy in the +victors or of comfort for the vanquished, and had +resolved itself into a wild wordless hymn to the +glory of Miss Dobson. Behind her and all +around her on the roof of the barge, young Ju- +dasians were venting in like manner their hearts +through their lungs. She paid no heed. It was +as if she stood alone with her lover on some +silent pinnacle of the world. It was as if she +were a little girl with a brand-new and very ex- +pensive doll which had banished all the little other +old toys from her mind. + She simply could not, in her naïve rapture, take +her eyes off her companion. To the dancers and +stampers of the towing-path, many of whom were +now being ferried back across the river, and to +the other youths on the roof of the barge, Zu- +leika's air of absorption must have seemed a little +strange. For already the news that the Duke +loved Zuleika, and that she loved him not, and +would stoop to no man who loved her, had spread +like wild-fire among the undergraduates. The +two youths in whom the Duke had deigned to +confide had not held their peace. And the effect +that Zuleika had made as she came down to the +river was intensified by the knowledge that not + + +120 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +the great paragon himself did she deem worthy +of her. The mere sight of her had captured +young Oxford. The news of her supernal +haughtiness had riveted the chains. + "Come!" said the Duke at length, staring +around him with the eyes of one awakened from +a dream. "Come! I must take you back to +Judas." + "But you won't leave me there?" pleaded Zu- +leika. "You will stay to dinner? I am sure my +grandfather would be delighted." + "I am sure he would," said the Duke, as he +piloted her down the steps of the barge. "But +alas, I have to dine at the Junta to-night." + "The Junta? What is that?" + "A little dining-club. It meets every Tuesday." + "But -- you don't mean you are going to refuse +me for that?" + "To do so is misery. But I have no choice. +I have asked a guest." + "Then ask another: ask me!" Zuleika's no- +tions of Oxford life were rather hazy. It was +with difficulty that the Duke made her realise +that he could not -- not even if, as she suggested, +she dressed herself up as a man -- invite her to +the Junta. She then fell back on the impossibility +that he would not dine with her to-night, his last +night in this world. She could not understand +that admirable fidelity to social engagements +which is one of the virtues implanted in the mem- + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 121 + +bers of our aristocracy. Bohemian by training +and by career, she construed the Duke's refusal +as either a cruel slight to herself or an act of +imbecility. The thought of being parted from her +for one moment was torture to him; but <i>noblesse +oblige</i>, and it was quite impossible for him to +break an engagement merely because a more +charming one offered itself: he would as soon +have cheated at cards. + And so, as they went side by side up the avenue, +in the mellow light of the westering sun, preceded +in their course, and pursued, and surrounded, by +the mob of hoarse infatuate youths, Zuleika's face +was as that of a little girl sulking. Vainly the +Duke reasoned with her. She could <i>not</i> see the +point of view. + With that sudden softening that comes to the +face of an angry woman who has hit on a good +argument, she turned to him and asked "How if +I hadn't saved your life just now? Much you +thought about your guest when you were going +to dive and die!" + "I did not forget him," answered the Duke, +smiling at her casuistry. "Nor had I any scruple +in disappointing him. Death cancels all engage- +ments." + And Zuleika, worsted, resumed her sulking. +But presently, as they neared Judas, she re- +lented. It was paltry to be cross with him who +had resolved to die for her and was going to die + + +122 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +so on the morrow. And after all, she would see +him at the concert to-night. They would sit to- +gether. And all to-morrow they would be together, +till the time came for parting. Hers was a nat- +urally sunny disposition. And the evening was +such a lovely one, all bathed in gold. She was +ashamed of her ill-humour. + "Forgive me," she said, touching his arm. +"Forgive me for being horrid." And forgiven +she promptly was. "And promise you will spend +all to-morrow with me." And of course he +promised. + As they stood together on the steps of the +Warden's front-door, exalted above the level of +the flushed and swaying crowd that filled the +whole length and breadth of Judas Street, she +implored him not to be late for the concert. + "I am never late," he smiled. + "Ah, you're so beautifully brought up!" + The door was opened. + "And -- oh, you're beautiful besides!" she +whispered; and waved her hand to him as she +vanished into the hall. + + +VIII + +A FEW minutes before half-past seven, the Duke, +arrayed for dinner, passed leisurely up the High. +The arresting feature of his costume was a mul- +berry-coloured coat, with brass buttons. This, to +any one versed in Oxford lore, betokened him a +member of the Junta. It is awful to think that +a casual stranger might have mistaken him for a +footman. It does not do to think of such things. + The tradesmen, at the doors of their shops, +bowed low as he passed, rubbing their hands and +smiling, hoping inwardly that they took no liberty +in sharing the cool rosy air of the evening with +his Grace. They noted that he wore in his shirt- +front a black pearl and a pink. "Daring, but +becoming," they opined. + The rooms of the Junta were over a stationer's +shop, next door but one to the Mitre. They were +small rooms; but as the Junta had now, besides +the Duke, only two members, and as no member +might introduce more than one guest, there was +ample space. + The Duke had been elected in his second term. +At that time there were four members; but these +were all leaving Oxford at the end of the summer + +123 + + +124 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +term, and there seemed to be in the ranks of the +Bullingdon and the Loder no one quite eligible +for the Junta, that holy of holies. Thus it was +that the Duke inaugurated in solitude his second +year of membership. From time to time, he +proposed and seconded a few candidates, after +"sounding" them as to whether they were willing +to join. But always, when election evening -- the +last Tuesday of term -- drew near, he began to +have his doubts about these fellows. This one +was "rowdy"; that one was over-dressed; another +did not ride quite straight to hounds; in the +pedigree of another a bar-sinister was more than +suspected. Election evening was always a rather +melancholy time. After dinner, when the two +club servants had placed on the mahogany the +time-worn Candidates' Book and the ballot-box, +and had noiselessly withdrawn, the Duke, clearing +his throat, read aloud to himself "Mr. So-and-So, +of Such-and-Such College, proposed by the Duke +of Dorset, seconded by the Duke of Dorset," and, +in every case, when he drew out the drawer of the +ballot-box, found it was a black-ball that he had +dropped into the urn. Thus it was that at the +end of the summer term the annual photographic +"group" taken by Messrs. Hills and Saunders +was a presentment of the Duke alone. + In the course of his third year he had become +less exclusive. Not because there seemed to be +any one really worthy of the Junta; but because + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 125 + +the Junta, having thriven since the eighteenth +century, must not die. Suppose -- one never knew +-- he were struck by lightning, the Junta would +be no more. So, not without reluctance, but +unanimously, he had elected The MacQuern, of +Balliol, and Sir John Marraby, of Brasenose. + To-night, as he, a doomed man, went up into +the familiar rooms, he was wholly glad that he +had thus relented. As yet, he was spared the +tragic knowledge that it would make no dif- +ference.* + The MacQuern and two other young men were +already there. + "Mr. President," said The MacQuern, "I pre- +sent Mr. Trent-Garby, of Christ Church." + "The Junta is honoured," said the Duke, +bowing. + Such was the ritual of the club. + The other young man, because his host, Sir +John Marraby, was not yet on the scene, had no +<i>locus standi</i>, and, though a friend of The Mac- +Quern, and well known to the Duke, had to be +ignored. + A moment later, Sir John arrived. "Mr. Pres- +ident," he said, "I present Lord Sayes, of Mag- +dalen." + "The Junta is honoured," said the Duke, +bowing. + + * The Junta has been reconstituted. But the apostolic line +was broken, the thread was snapped; the old magic is fled. + + +126 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + Both hosts and both guests, having been promi- +nent in the throng that vociferated around Zuleika +an hour earlier, were slightly abashed in the +Duke's presence. He, however, had not noticed +any one in particular, and, even if he had, that +fine tradition of the club -- "A member of the +Junta can do no wrong; a guest of the Junta can- +not err" -- would have prevented him from show- +ing his displeasure. + A Herculean figure filled the doorway. + "The Junta is honoured," said the Duke, +bowing to his guest. + "Duke," said the newcomer quietly, "the hon- +our is as much mine as that of the interesting and +ancient institution which I am this night privileged +to inspect." + Turning to Sir John and The MacQuern, the +Duke said "I present Mr. Abimelech V. Oover, +of Trinity." + "The Junta," they replied, "is honoured." + "Gentlemen," said the Rhodes Scholar, "your +good courtesy is just such as I would have antici- +pated from members of the ancient Junta. Like +most of my countrymen, I am a man of few +words. We are habituated out there to act rather +than talk. Judged from the view-point of your +beautiful old civilisation, I am aware my curtness +must seem crude. But, gentlemen, believe me, +right here --" + "Dinner is served, your Grace." + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 127 + + Thus interrupted, Mr. Oover, with the re- +sourcefulness of a practised orator, brought his +thanks to a quick but not abrupt conclusion. The +little company passed into the front room. + Through the window, from the High, fading +daylight mingled with the candle-light. The mul- +berry coats of the hosts, interspersed by the black +ones of the guests, made a fine pattern around +the oval table a-gleam with the many curious +pieces of gold and silver plate that had accrued +to the Junta in course of years. + The President showed much deference to his +guest. He seemed to listen with close attention +to the humorous anecdote with which, in the +American fashion, Mr. Oover inaugurated dinner. + To all Rhodes Scholars, indeed, his courtesy +was invariable. He went out of his way to culti- +vate them. And this he did more as a favour to +Lord Milner than of his own caprice. He found +these Scholars, good fellows though they were, +rather oppressive. They had not -- how could they +have? -- the undergraduate's virtue of taking Ox- +ford as a matter of course. The Germans loved +it too little, the Colonials too much. The Ameri- +cans were, to a sensitive observer, the most +troublesome -- as being the most troubled -- of the +whole lot. The Duke was not one of those Eng- +lishmen who fling, or care to hear flung, cheap +sneers at America. Whenever any one in his +presence said that America was not large in area, + + +128 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +he would firmly maintain that it was. He held, +too, in his enlightened way, that Americans have a +perfect right to exist. But he did often find him- +self wishing Mr. Rhodes had not enabled them +to exercise that right in Oxford. They were so +awfully afraid of having their strenuous native +characters undermined by their delight in the +place. They held that the future was theirs, a +glorious asset, far more glorious than the past. +But a theory, as the Duke saw, is one thing, an +emotion another. It is so much easier to covet +what one hasn't than to revel in what one has. +Also, it is so much easier to be enthusiastic about +what exists than about what doesn't. The future +doesn't exist. The past does. For, whereas all +men can learn, the gift of prophecy has died out. +A man cannot work up in his breast any real ex- +citement about what possibly won't happen. He +cannot very well help being sentimentally inter- +ested in what he knows has happened. On the +other hand, he owes a duty to his country. And, +if his country be America, he ought to try to feel +a vivid respect for the future, and a cold contempt +for the past. Also, if he be selected by his +country as a specimen of the best moral, physical, +and intellectual type that she can produce for the +astounding of the effete foreigner, and incidentally +for the purpose of raising that foreigner's tone, +he must -- mustn't he? -- do his best to astound, +to exalt. But then comes in this difficulty. Young + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 129 + +men don't like to astound and exalt their fellows. +And Americans, individually, are of all people +the most anxious to please. That they talk over- +much is often taken as a sign of self-satisfaction. +It is merely a mannerism. Rhetoric is a thing in- +bred in them. They are quite unconscious of it. +It is as natural to them as breathing. And, while +they talk on, they really do believe that they are +a quick, businesslike people, by whom things are +"put through" with an almost brutal abruptness. +This notion of theirs is rather confusing to the +patient English auditor. + Altogether, the American Rhodes Scholars, +with their splendid native gift of oratory, and +their modest desire to please, and their not less +evident feeling that they ought merely to edify, +and their constant delight in all that of Oxford +their English brethren don't notice, and their con- +stant fear that they are being corrupted, are a +noble, rather than a comfortable, element in the +social life of the University. So, at least, they +seemed to the Duke. + And to-night, but that he had invited Oover +to dine with him, he could have been dining with +Zuleika. And this was his last dinner on earth. +Such thoughts made him the less able to take +pleasure in his guest. Perfect, however, the +amenity of his manner. + This was the more commendable because +Oover's "aura" was even more disturbing than + + +130 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +that of the average Rhodes Scholar. To-night, +besides the usual conflicts in this young man's +bosom, raged a special one between his desire +to behave well and his jealousy of the man who +had to-day been Miss Dobson's escort. In theory +he denied the Duke's right to that honour. In +sentiment he admitted it. Another conflict, you +see. And another. He longed to orate about the +woman who had his heart; yet she was the one +topic that must be shirked. + The MacQuern and Mr. Trent-Garby, Sir John +Marraby and Lord Sayes, they too -- though they +were no orators -- would fain have unpacked their +hearts in words about Zuleika. They spoke of +this and that, automatically, none listening to an- +other -- each man listening, wide-eyed, to his own +heart's solo on the Zuleika theme, and drinking +rather more champagne than was good for him. +Maybe, these youths sowed in themselves, on this +night, the seeds of lifelong intemperance. We +cannot tell. They did not live long enough for +us to know. + While the six dined, a seventh, invisible to +them, leaned moodily against the mantel-piece, +watching them. He was not of their time. His +long brown hair was knotted in a black riband +behind. He wore a pale brocaded coat and lace +ruffles, silken stockings, a sword. Privy to their +doom, he watched them. He was loth that his +Junta must die. Yes, his. Could the diners have + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 131 + +seen him, they would have known him by his +resemblance to the mezzotint portrait that hung +on the wall above him. They would have risen to +their feet in presence of Humphrey Greddon, +founder and first president of the club. + His face was not so oval, nor were his eyes so +big, nor his lips so full, nor his hands so delicate, +as they appeared in the mezzotint. Yet (bating +the conventions of eighteenth-century portraiture) +the likeness was a good one. Humphrey Greddon +was not less well-knit and graceful than the +painter had made him, and, hard though the lines +of the face were, there was about him a certain +air of high romance that could not be explained +away by the fact that he was of a period not our +own. You could understand the great love that +Nellie O'Mora had borne him. + Under the mezzotint hung Hoppner's minia- +ture of that lovely and ill-starred girl, with her +soft dark eyes, and her curls all astray from be- +neath her little blue turban. And the Duke was +telling Mr. Oover her story -- how she had left +her home for Humphrey Greddon when she was +but sixteen, and he an undergraduate at Christ +Church; and had lived for him in a cottage at +Littlemore, whither he would ride, most days, to +be with her; and how he tired of her, broke his +oath that he would marry her, thereby broke her +heart; and how she drowned herself in a mill- +pond; and how Greddon was killed in Venice, two + + +132 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +years later, duelling on the Riva Schiavoni with +a Senator whose daughter he had seduced. + And he, Greddon, was not listening very atten- +tively to the tale. He had heard it told so often +in this room, and he did not understand the +sentiments of the modern world. Nellie had been +a monstrous pretty creature. He had adored her, +and had done with her. It was right that she +should always be toasted after dinner by the +Junta, as in the days when first he loved her -- +"Here's to Nellie O'Mora, the fairest witch that +ever was or will be!" He would have resented +the omission of that toast. But he was sick of +the pitying, melting looks that were always cast +towards her miniature. Nellie had been beauti- +ful, but, by God! she was always a dunce and a +simpleton. How could he have spent his life with +her? She was a fool, by God! not to marry that +fool Trailby, of Merton, whom he took to see her. + Mr. Oover's moral tone, and his sense of chiv- +alry, were of the American kind: far higher than +ours, even, and far better expressed. Whereas +the English guests of the Junta, when they heard +the tale of Nellie O'Mora, would merely murmur +"Poor girl!" or "What a shame!" Mr. Oover +said in a tone of quiet authority that compelled +Greddon's ear "Duke, I hope I am not incog- +nisant of the laws that govern the relations of +guest and host. But, Duke, I aver deliberately +that the founder of this fine old club; at which + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 133 + +you are so splendidly entertaining me to-night, +was an unmitigated scoundrel. I say he was not +a white man." + At the word "scoundrel," Humphrey Greddon +had sprung forward, drawing his sword, and +loudly, in a voice audible to himself alone, chal- +lenged the American to make good his words. +Then, as this gentleman took no notice, with one +clean straight thrust Greddon ran him through +the heart, shouting "Die, you damned psalm- +singer and traducer! And so die all rebels +against King George!"* Withdrawing the blade, +he wiped it daintily on his cambric handkerchief. +There was no blood. Mr. Oover, with unpunc- +tured shirt-front, was repeating "I say he was not +a white man." And Greddon remembered him- +self -- remembered he was only a ghost, impalpa- +ble, impotent, of no account. "But I shall meet +you in Hell to-morrow," he hissed in Oover's face. +And there he was wrong. It is quite certain that +Oover went to Heaven. + Unable to avenge himself, Greddon had looked +to the Duke to act for him. When he saw that +this young man did but smile at Oover and make +a vague deprecatory gesture, he again, in his +wrath, forgot his disabilities. Drawing himself +to his full height, he took with great deliberation +a pinch of snuff, and, bowing low to the Duke, + + * As Edward VII. was at this time on the throne, it must +have been to George III, that Mr. Greddon was referring, + + +134 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +said "I am vastly obleeged to your Grace for the +fine high Courage you have exhibited in the behalf +of your most Admiring, most Humble Servant." +Then, having brushed away a speck of snuff from +his <i>jabot</i>, he turned on his heel; and only in the +doorway, where one of the club servants, carrying +a decanter in each hand, walked straight through +him, did he realise that he had not spoilt the +Duke's evening. With a volley of the most ap- +palling eighteenth-century oaths, he passed back +into the nether world. + To the Duke, Nellie O'Mora had never been +a very vital figure. He had often repeated the +legend of her. But, having never known what +love was, he could not imagine her rapture or her +anguish. Himself the quarry of all Mayfair's +wise virgins, he had always -- so far as he thought +of the matter at all -- suspected that Nellie's death +was due to thwarted ambition. But to-night, +while he told Oover about her, he could see into +her soul. Nor did he pity her. She had loved. +She had known the one thing worth living for -- +and dying for. She, as she went down to the mill- +pond, had felt just that ecstasy of self-sacrifice +which he himself had felt to-day and would feel +to-morrow. And for a while, too -- for a full +year -- she had known the joy of being loved, had +been for Greddon "the fairest witch that ever +was or will be." He could not agree with Oover's +long disquisition on her sufferings. And, glancing + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 135 + +at her well-remembered miniature, he wondered +just what it was in her that had captivated Gred- +don. He was in that blest state when a man can- +not believe the earth has been trodden by any +really beautiful or desirable lady save the lady +of his own heart. + The moment had come for the removal of the +table-cloth. The mahogany of the Junta was laid +bare -- a clear dark lake, anon to reflect in its still +and ruddy depths the candelabras and the fruit- +cradles, the slender glasses and the stout old de- +canters, the forfeit-box and the snuff-box, and +other paraphernalia of the dignity of dessert. +Lucidly, and unwaveringly inverted in the depths +these good things stood; and, so soon as the wine +had made its circuit, the Duke rose and with up- +lifted glass proposed the first of the two toasts +traditional to the Junta. "Gentlemen, I give you +Church and State." + The toast having been honoured by all -- and +by none with a richer reverence than by Oover, +despite his passionate mental reservation in favour +of Pittsburg-Anabaptism and the Republican Ideal +-- the snuff-box was handed round, and fruit was +eaten. + Presently, when the wine had gone round again, +the Duke rose and with uplifted glass said "Gen- +tlemen, I give you -- " and there halted. Silent, +frowning, flushed, he stood for a few moments, +and then, with a deliberate gesture, tilted his + + +136 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +glass and let fall the wine to the carpet. "No," +he said, looking round the table, "I cannot give +you Nellie O'Mora." + "Why not?" gasped Sir John Marraby. + "You have a right to ask that," said the Duke, +still standing. "I can only say that my conscience +is stronger than my sense of what is due to the +customs of the club. Nellie O'Mora," he said, +passing his hand over his brow, "may have been +in her day the fairest witch that ever was -- so +fair that our founder had good reason to suppose +her the fairest witch that ever would be. But his +prediction was a false one. So at least it seems to +me. Of course I cannot both hold this view and +remain President of this club. MacQuern -- Mar- +raby -- which of you is Vice-President?" + "He is," said Marraby. + "Then, MacQuern, you are hereby President, +<i>vice</i> myself resigned. Take the chair and propose +the toast." + "I would rather not," said The MacQuern after +a pause. + "Then, Marraby, <i>you</i> must." + "Not I!" said Marraby. + "Why is this?" asked the Duke, looking from +one to the other. + The MacQuern, with Scotch caution, was silent. +But the impulsive Marraby -- Madcap Marraby, +as they called him in B.N.C. -- said "It's because +I won't lie!" and, leaping up, raised his glass aloft + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 137 + +and cried "I give you Zuleika Dobson, the fairest +witch that ever was or will be!" + Mr. Oover, Lord Sayes, Mr. Trent-Garby, +sprang to their feet; The MacQuern rose to his. +"Zuleika Dobson!" they cried, and drained their +glasses. + Then, when they had resumed their seats, came +an awkward pause. The Duke, still erect beside +the chair he had vacated, looked very grave and +pale. Marraby had taken an outrageous liberty. +But "a member of the Junta can do no wrong," +and the liberty could not be resented. The Duke +felt that the blame was on himself, who had +elected Marraby to the club. + Mr. Oover, too, looked grave. All the an- +tiquarian in him deplored the sudden rupture of +a fine old Oxford tradition. All the chivalrous +American in him resented the slight on that fair +victim of the feudal system, Miss O'Mora. And, +at the same time, all the Abimelech V. in him re- +joiced at having honoured by word and act the +one woman in the world. + Gazing around at the flushed faces and heaving +shirt-fronts of the diners, the Duke forgot Mar- +raby's misdemeanour. What mattered far more +to him was that here were five young men deeply +under the spell of Zuleika. They must be saved, +if possible. He knew how strong his influence +was in the University. He knew also how strong +was Zuleika's. He had not much hope of the + + +138 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +issue. But his new-born sense of duty to his +fellows spurred him on. "Is there," he asked with +a bitter smile, "any one of you who doesn't with +his whole heart love Miss Dobson?" + Nobody held up a hand. + "As I feared," said the Duke, knowing not that +if a hand had been held up he would have taken +it as a personal insult. No man really in love can +forgive another for not sharing his ardour. His +jealousy for himself when his beloved prefers an- +other man is hardly a stronger passion than his +jealousy for her when she is not preferred to all +other women. + "You know her only by sight -- by repute?" +asked the Duke. They signified that this was so. +"I wish you would introduce me to her," said +Marraby. + "You are all coming to the Judas concert to- +night?" the Duke asked, ignoring Marraby. "You +have all secured tickets?" They nodded. "To +hear me play, or to see Miss Dobson?" There +was a murmur of "Both -- both." "And you would +all of you, like Marraby, wish to be presented to +this lady?" Their eyes dilated. "That way hap- +piness lies, think you?" + "Oh, happiness be hanged!" said Marraby. + To the Duke this seemed a profoundly sane +remark -- an epitome of his own sentiments. But +what was right for himself was not right for all. +He believed in convention as the best way for + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 139 + +average mankind. And so, slowly, calmly, he told +to his fellow-diners just what he had told a few +hours earlier to those two young men in Salt +Cellar. Not knowing that his words had already +been spread throughout Oxford, he was rather +surprised that they seemed to make no sensation. +Quite flat, too, fell his appeal that the syren be +shunned by all. + Mr. Oover, during his year of residence, had +been sorely tried by the quaint old English cus- +tom of not making public speeches after private +dinners. It was with a deep sigh of satisfaction +that he now rose to his feet. + "Duke," he said in a low voice, which yet pene- +trated to every corner of the room, "I guess I am +voicing these gentlemen when I say that your +words show up your good heart, all the time. +Your mentality, too, is bully, as we all predicate. +One may say without exaggeration that your +scholarly and social attainments are a by-word +throughout the solar system, and be-yond. We +rightly venerate you as our boss. Sir, we worship +the ground you walk on. But we owe a duty to +our own free and independent manhood. Sir, we +worship the ground Miss Z. Dobson treads on. +We have pegged out a claim right there. And +from that location we aren't to be budged -- not +for bob-nuts. We asseverate we squat -- where -- +we -- squat, come -- what -- will. You say we have +no chance to win Miss Z. Dobson. That -- we -- + +140 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +know. We aren't worthy. We lie prone. Let +her walk over us. You say her heart is cold. We +don't pro-fess we can take the chill off. But, Sir, +we can't be diverted out of loving her -- not even +by you, Sir. No, Sir! We love her, and -- shall, +and -- will, Sir, with -- our -- latest breath." + This peroration evoked loud applause. "I love +her, and shall, and will," shouted each man. And +again they honoured in wine her image. Sir John +Marraby uttered a cry familiar in the hunting- +field. The MacQuern contributed a few bars of a +sentimental ballad in the dialect of his country. +"Hurrah, hurrah!" shouted Mr. Trent-Garby. +Lord Sayes hummed the latest waltz, waving his +arms to its rhythm, while the wine he had just +spilt on his shirt-front trickled unheeded to his +waistcoat. Mr. Oover gave the Yale cheer. + The genial din was wafted down through the +open window to the passers-by. The wine-mer- +chant across the way heard it, and smiled pen- +sively. "Youth, youth!" he murmured. + The genial din grew louder. + At any other time, the Duke would have been +jarred by the disgrace to the Junta. But now, as +he stood with bent head, covering his face with +his hands, he thought only of the need to rid these +young men, here and now, of the influence that +had befallen them. To-morrow his tragic ex- +ample might be too late, the mischief have sunk +too deep, the agony be life-long. His good breed- + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 141 + +ing forbade him to cast over a dinner-table the +shadow of his death. His conscience insisted that +he must. He uncovered his face, and held up one +hand for silence. + "We are all of us," he said, "old enough to +remember vividly the demonstrations made in the +streets of London when war was declared between +us and the Transvaal Republic. You, Mr. Oover, +doubtless heard in America the echoes of those +ebullitions. The general idea was that the war +was going to be a very brief and simple affair -- +what was called 'a walk-over.' To me, though I +was only a small boy, it seemed that all this de- +lirious pride in the prospect of crushing a trump- +ery foe argued a defect in our sense of proportion. +Still, I was able to understand the demonstrators' +point of view. To 'the giddy vulgar' any sort of +victory is pleasant. But defeat? If, when that +war was declared, every one had been sure that +not only should we fail to conquer the Transvaal, +but that <i>it</i> would conquer <i>us</i> -- that not only would +it make good its freedom and independence, but +that we should forfeit ours -- how would the cits +have felt then? Would they not have pulled long +faces, spoken in whispers, wept? You must for- +give me for saying that the noise you have just +made around this table was very like to the noise +made on the verge of the Boer War. And your +procedure seems to me as unaccountable as would +have seemed the antics of those mobs if England + + +142 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +had been plainly doomed to disaster and to vas- +salage. My guest here to-night, in the course of +his very eloquent and racy speech, spoke of the +need that he and you should preserve your 'free +and independent manhood.' That seemed to me +an irreproachable ideal. But I confess I was +somewhat taken aback by my friend's scheme for +realising it. He declared his intention of lying +prone and letting Miss Dobson 'walk over' him; +and he advised you to follow his example; and +to this counsel you gave evident approval. Gen- +tlemen, suppose that on the verge of the aforesaid +war, some orator had said to the British people +'It is going to be a walk-over for our enemy in +the field. Mr. Kruger holds us in the hollow +of his hand. In subjection to him we shall find +our long-lost freedom and independence' -- what +would have been Britannia's answer? What, on +reflection, is yours to Mr. Oover? What are +Mr. Oover's own second thoughts?" The Duke +paused, with a smile to his guest. + "Go right ahead, Duke," said Mr. Oover. "I'll +re-ply when my turn comes." + "And not utterly demolish me, I hope," said +the Duke. His was the Oxford manner. "Gen- +tlemen," he continued, "is it possible that Britan- +nia would have thrown her helmet in the air, +shrieking 'Slavery for ever'? You, gentlemen, +seem to think slavery a pleasant and an honour- +able state. You have less experience of it than I. + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 143 + +I have been enslaved to Miss Dobson since yes- +terday evening; you, only since this afternoon; I, +at close quarters; you, at a respectful distance. +Your fetters have not galled you yet. <i>My</i> wrists, +<i>my</i> ankles, are excoriated. The iron has entered +into my soul. I droop. I stumble. Blood flows +from me. I quiver and curse. I writhe. The +sun mocks me. The moon titters in my face. I +can stand it no longer. I will no more of it. To- +morrow I die." + The flushed faces of the diners grew gradually +pale. Their eyes lost lustre. Their tongues clove +to the roofs of their mouths. + At length, almost inaudibly, The MacQuern +asked "Do you mean you are going to commit +suicide?" + "Yes," said the Duke, "if you choose to put +it in that way. Yes. And it is only by a chance +that I did not commit suicide this afternoon." + "You -- don't -- say," gasped Mr. Oover. + "I do indeed," said the Duke. "And I ask you +all to weigh well my message." + "But -- but does Miss Dobson know?" asked +Sir John. + "Oh yes," was the reply. "Indeed, it was she +who persuaded me not to die till to-morrow." + "But -- but," faltered Lord Sayes, "I saw her +saying good-bye to you in Judas Street. And -- +and she looked quite -- as if nothing had hap- +pened." + + +144 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + "Nothing <i>had</i> happened," said the Duke. "And +she was very much pleased to have me still with +her. But she isn't so cruel as to hinder me from +dying for her to-morrow. I don't think she ex- +actly fixed the hour. It shall be just after the +Eights have been rowed. An earlier death would +mark in me a lack of courtesy to that contest. . . +It seems strange to you that I should do this +thing? Take warning by me. Muster all your +will-power, and forget Miss Dobson. Tear up +your tickets for the concert. Stay here and play +cards. Play high. Or rather, go back to your +various Colleges, and speed the news I have told +you. Put all Oxford on its guard against this +woman who can love no lover. Let all Oxford +know that I, Dorset, who had so much reason +to love life -- I, the nonpareil -- am going to die +for the love I bear this woman. And let no man +think I go unwilling. I am no lamb led to the +slaughter. I am priest as well as victim. I offer +myself up with a pious joy. But enough of this +cold Hebraism! It is ill-attuned to my soul's +mood. Self-sacrifice -- bah! Regard me as a +voluptuary. I am that. All my baffled ardour +speeds me to the bosom of Death. She is gentle +and wanton. She knows I could never have loved +her for her own sake. She has no illusions about +me. She knows well I come to her because not +otherwise may I quench my passion." + There was a long silence. The Duke, looking + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 145 + +around at the bent heads and drawn mouths of +his auditors, saw that his words had gone home. +It was Marraby who revealed how powerfully +home they had gone. + "Dorset," he said huskily, "I shall die too." + The Duke flung up his hands, staring wildly. + "I stand in with that," said Mr. Oover. + "So do I!" said Lord Sayes. "And I!" said +Mr. Trent-Garby; "And I!" The MacQuern. + The Duke found voice. "Are you mad?" he +asked, clutching at his throat. "Are you all +mad?" + "No, Duke," said Mr. Oover. "Or, if we are, +you have no right to be at large. You have shown +us the way. We -- take it." + "Just so," said The MacQuern, stolidly. + "Listen, you fools," cried the Duke. But +through the open window came the vibrant stroke +of some clock. He wheeled round, plucked out +his watch -- nine! -- the concert! -- his promise not +to be late! -- Zuleika! + All other thoughts vanished. In an instant he +dodged beneath the sash of the window. From +the flower-box he sprang to the road beneath. +(The façade of the house is called, to this day, +Dorset's Leap.) Alighting with the legerity of a +cat, he swerved leftward in the recoil, and was +off, like a streak of mulberry-coloured lightning, +down the High. + The other men had rushed to the window, fear- + + +146 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +ing the worst. "No," cried Oover. "That's all +right. Saves time!" and he raised himself on to +the window-box. It splintered under his weight. +He leapt heavily but well, followed by some up- +rooted geraniums. Squaring his shoulders, he +threw back his head, and doubled down the slope. + There was a violent jostle between the remain- +ing men. The MacQuern cannily got out of it, +and rushed downstairs. He emerged at the front- +door just after Marraby touched ground. The +Baronet's left ankle had twisted under him. His +face was drawn with pain as he hopped down +the High on his right foot, fingering his ticket +for the concert. Next leapt Lord Sayes. And +last of all leapt Mr. Trent-Garby, who, catching +his foot in the ruined flower-box, fell headlong, +and was, I regret to say, killed. Lord Sayes +passed Sir John in a few paces. The MacQuern +overtook Mr. Oover at St. Mary's and outstripped +him in Radcliffe Square. The Duke came in an +easy first. + Youth, youth! + + +IX + +ACROSS the Front Quadrangle, heedless of the +great crowd to right and left, Dorset rushed. Up +the stone steps to the Hall he bounded, and only +on the Hall's threshold was he brought to a pause. +The doorway was blocked by the backs of youths +who had by hook and crook secured standing- +room. The whole scene was surprisingly unlike +that of the average College concert. + "Let me pass," said the Duke, rather breath- +lessly. "Thank you. Make way please. Thanks." +And with quick-pulsing heart he made his way +down the aisle to the front row. There awaited +him a surprise that was like a douche of cold water +full in his face. Zuleika was not there! It had +never occurred to him that she herself might not +be punctual. + The Warden was there, reading his programme +with an air of great solemnity. "Where," asked +the Duke, "is your grand-daughter?" His tone +was as of a man saying "If she is dead, don't +break it gently to me." + "My grand-daughter?" said the Warden. "Ah, +Duke, good evening." + "She's not ill?" + +147 + + +148 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + "Oh no, I think not. She said something about +changing the dress she wore at dinner. She will +come." And the Warden thanked his young +friend for the great kindness he had shown to +Zuleika. He hoped the Duke had not let her +worry him with her artless prattle. "She seems +to be a good, amiable girl," he added, in his de- +tached way. + Sitting beside him, the Duke looked curiously +at the venerable profile, as at a mummy's. To +think that this had once been a man! To think +that his blood flowed in the veins of Zuleika! +Hitherto the Duke had seen nothing grotesque in +him -- had regarded him always as a dignified +specimen of priest and scholar. Such a life as the +Warden's, year following year in ornamental se- +clusion from the follies and fusses of the world, +had to the Duke seemed rather admirable and +enviable. Often he himself had (for a minute or +so) meditated taking a fellowship at All Souls +and spending here in Oxford the greater part of +his life. He had never been young, and it never +had occurred to him that the Warden had been +young once. To-night he saw the old man in a +new light -- saw that he was mad. Here was a +man who -- for had he not married and begotten +a child? -- must have known, in some degree, the +emotion of love. How, after that, could he have +gone on thus, year by year, rusting among his +books, asking no favour of life, waiting for death + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 149 + +without a sign of impatience? Why had he not +killed himself long ago? Why cumbered he the +earth? + On the daïs an undergraduate was singing a +song entitled "She Loves Not Me." Such plaints +are apt to leave us unharrowed. Across the foot- +lights of an opera-house, the despair of some +Italian tenor in red tights and a yellow wig may +be convincing enough. Not so, at a concert, the +despair of a shy British amateur in evening dress. +The undergraduate on the dais, fumbling with +his sheet of music while he predicted that only +when he were "laid within the church-yard cold +and grey" would his lady begin to pity him, +seemed to the Duke rather ridiculous; but not +half so ridiculous as the Warden. This fictitious +love-affair was less nugatory than the actual +humdrum for which Dr. Dobson had sold his soul +to the devil. Also, little as one might suspect it, +the warbler was perhaps expressing a genuine +sentiment. Zuleika herself, belike, was in his +thoughts. + As he began the second stanza, predicting that +when his lady died too the angels of heaven would +bear her straight to him, the audience heard a +loud murmur, or subdued roar, outside the Hall. +And after a few bars the warbler suddenly ceased, +staring straight in front of him as though he saw +a vision. Automatically, all heads veered in the +direction of his gaze. From the entrance, slowly + + +150 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +along the aisle, came Zuleika, brilliant in black. + To the Duke, who had rapturously risen, she +nodded and smiled as she swerved down on the +chair beside him. She looked to him somehow +different. He had quite forgiven her for being +late: her mere presence was a perfect excuse. And +the very change in her, though he could not de- +fine it, was somehow pleasing to him. He was +about to question her, but she shook her head and +held up to her lips a black-gloved forefinger, en- +joining silence for the singer, who, with dogged +British pluck, had harked back to the beginning +of the second stanza. When his task was done +and he shuffled down from the daïs, he received a +great ovation. Zuleika, in the way peculiar to +persons who are in the habit of appearing before +the public, held her hands well above the level of +her brow, and clapped them with a vigour dem- +onstrative not less of her presence than of her +delight. + "And now," she asked, turning to the Duke, +"do you see? do you see?" + "Something, yes. But what?" + "Isn't it plain?" Lightly she touched the lobe +of her left ear. "Aren't you flattered?" + He knew now what made the difference. It was +that her little face was flanked by two black +pearls. + "Think," said she, "how deeply I must have +been brooding over you since we parted!" + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 151 + + "Is this really," he asked, pointing to the left +ear-ring, "the pearl you wore to-day?" + "Yes. Isn't it strange? A man ought to be +pleased when a woman goes quite unconsciously +into mourning for him -- goes just because she +really does mourn him." + "I am more than pleased. I am touched. When +did the change come?" + "I don't know. I only noticed it after dinner, +when I saw myself in the mirror. All through +dinner I had been thinking of you and of -- well, +of to-morrow. And this dear sensitive pink pearl +had again expressed my soul. And there was I, +in a yellow gown with green embroideries, gay +as a jacamar, jarring hideously on myself. I cov- +ered my eyes and rushed upstairs, rang the bell +and tore my things off. My maid was very cross." + Cross! The Duke was shot through with envy +of one who was in a position to be unkind to +Zuleika. "Happy maid!" he murmured. Zuleika +replied that he was stealing her thunder: hadn't +she envied the girl at his lodgings? "But <i>I</i>," +she said, "wanted only to serve you in meekness. +The idea of ever being pert to you didn't enter +into my head. You show a side of your character +as unpleasing as it was unforeseen." + "Perhaps then," said the Duke, "it is as well +that I am going to die." She acknowledged his +rebuke with a pretty gesture of penitence. "You +may have been faultless in love," he added; "but + + +152 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +you would not have laid down your life for me." + "Oh," she answered, "wouldn't I though? You +don't know me. That is just the sort of thing I +should have loved to do. I am much more ro- +mantic than you are, really. I wonder," she said, +glancing at his breast, "if <i>your</i> pink pearl would +have turned black? And I wonder if <i>you</i> would +have taken the trouble to change that extraor- +dinary coat you are wearing?" + In sooth, no costume could have been more +beautifully Cimmerian than Zuleika's. And yet, +thought the Duke, watching her as the concert +proceeded, the effect of her was not lugubrious. +Her darkness shone. The black satin gown she +wore was a stream of shifting high-lights. Big +black diamonds were around her throat and +wrists, and tiny black diamonds starred the fan +she wielded. In her hair gleamed a great raven's +wing. And brighter, brighter than all these were +her eyes. Assuredly no, there was nothing morbid +about her. Would one even (wondered the Duke, +for a disloyal instant) go so far as to say she was +heartless? Ah no, she was merely strong. She +was one who could tread the tragic plane without +stumbling, and be resilient in the valley of the +shadow. What she had just said was no more +than the truth: she would have loved to die for +him, had he not forfeited her heart. She would +have asked no tears. That she had none to shed +for him now, that she did but share his exhilara- + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 153 + +tion, was the measure of her worthiness to have +the homage of his self-slaughter. + "By the way," she whispered, "I want to ask +one little favour of you. Will you, please, at the +last moment to-morrow, call out my name in a +loud voice, so that every one around can hear?" + "Of course I will." + "So that no one shall ever be able to say it +wasn't for me that you died, you know." + "May I use simply your Christian name?" + "Yes, I really don't see why you shouldn't- - +at such a moment." + "Thank you." His face glowed. + Thus did they commune, these two, radiant +without and within. And behind them, through- +out the Hall, the undergraduates craned their +necks for a glimpse. The Duke's piano solo, +which was the last item in the first half of the +programme, was eagerly awaited. Already, whis- +pered first from the lips of Oover and the others +who had come on from the Junta, the news of +his resolve had gone from ear to ear among the +men. He, for his part, had forgotten the scene +at the Junta, the baleful effect of his example. +For him the Hall was a cave of solitude -- no one +there but Zuleika and himself. Yet almost, like +the late Mr. John Bright, he heard in the air +the beating of the wings of the Angel of Death. +Not awful wings; little wings that sprouted from +the shoulders of a rosy and blindfold child. Love + + +154 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +and Death -- for him they were exquisitely one. +And it seemed to him, when his turn came to +play, that he floated, rather than walked, to the +daïs. + He had not considered what he would play to- +night. Nor, maybe, was he conscious now of +choosing. His fingers caressed the keyboard +vaguely; and anon this ivory had voice and lan- +guage; and for its master, and for some of his +hearers, arose a vision. And it was as though in +delicate procession, very slowly, listless with weep- +ing, certain figures passed by, hooded, and droop- +ing forasmuch as by the loss of him whom they +were following to his grave their own hold on +life had been loosened. He had been so beautiful +and young. Lo, he was but a burden to be carried +hence, dust to be hidden out of sight. Very +slowly, very wretchedly they went by. But, as +they went, another feeling, faint at first, an all +but imperceptible current, seemed to flow through +the procession; and now one, now another of the +mourners would look wanly up, with cast-back +hood, as though listening; and anon all were +listening on their way, first in wonder, then in +rapture; for the soul of their friend was singing +to them: they heard his voice, but clearer and +more blithe than they had ever known it -- a voice +etherealised by a triumph of joy that was not yet +for them to share. But presently the voice re- +ceded, its echoes dying away into the sphere + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 155 + +whence it came. It ceased; and the mourners +were left alone again with their sorrow, and +passed on all unsolaced, and drooping, weeping. + Soon after the Duke had begun to play, an +invisible figure came and stood by and listened; +a frail man, dressed in the fashion of 1840; the +shade of none other than Frederic Chopin. Be- +hind whom, a moment later, came a woman of +somewhat masculine aspect and dominant de- +meanour, mounting guard over him, and, as it +were, ready to catch him if he fell. He bowed +his head lower and lower, he looked up with an +ecstasy more and more intense, according to the +procedure of his Marche Funèbre. And among +the audience, too, there was a bowing and up- +lifting of heads, just as among the figures of the +mourners evoked. Yet the head of the player +himself was all the while erect, and his face glad +and serene. Nobly sensitive as was his playing +of the mournful passages, he smiled brilliantly +through them. + And Zuleika returned his gaze with a smile +not less gay. She was not sure what he was play- +ing. But she assumed that it was for her, and +that the music had some reference to his impend- +ing death. She was one of the people who say +"I don't know anything about music really, but I +know what I like." And she liked this; and she +beat time to it with her fan. She thought her +Duke looked very handsome. She was proud of + + +156 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +him. Strange that this time yesterday she had +been wildly in love with him! Strange, too, that +this time to-morrow he would be dead! She was +immensely glad she had saved him this afternoon. +To-morrow! There came back to her what he +had told her about the omen at Tankerton, that +stately home: "On the eve of the death of a +Duke of Dorset, two black owls come always and +perch on the battlements. They remain there +through the night, hooting. At dawn they fly +away, none knows whither." Perhaps, thought +she, at this very moment these two birds were on +the battlements. + The music ceased. In the hush that followed it, +her applause rang sharp and notable. Not so +Chopin's. Of him and his intense excitement none +but his companion was aware. "Plus fin que +Pachmann!" he reiterated, waving his arms +wildly, and dancing. + "Tu auras une migraine affreuse. Rentrons, +petit cœur!" said George Sand, gently but firmly. + "Laisse-rnoi le saluer," cried the composer, +struggling in her grasp. + "Demain soir, oui. Il sera parmi nous," said +the novelist, as she hurried him away. "Moi +aussi," she added to herself, "je me promets un +beau plaisir en faisant la connaissance de ce +jeune homme." + Zuleika was the first to rise as "ce jeune +homme" came down from the daïs. Now was the + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 157 + +interval between the two parts of the programme. +There was a general creaking and scraping of +pushed-back chairs as the audience rose and went +forth into the night. The noise aroused from +sleep the good Warden, who, having peered at his +programme, complimented the Duke with old- +world courtesy and went to sleep again. Zuleika, +thrusting her fan under one arm, shook the player +by both hands. Also, she told him that she knew +nothing about music really, but that she knew +what she liked. As she passed with him up the +aisle, she said this again. People who say it are +never tired of saying it. + Outside, the crowd was greater than ever. All +the undergraduates from all the Colleges seemed +now to be concentrated in the great Front Quad- +rangle of Judas. Even in the glow of the Japa- +nese lanterns that hung around in honour of the +concert, the faces of the lads looked a little pale. +For it was known by all now that the Duke was +to die. Even while the concert was in progress, +the news had spread out from the Hall, through +the thronged doorway, down the thronged steps, +to the confines of the crowd. Nor had Oover +and the other men from the Junta made any se- +cret of their own determination. And now, as +the rest saw Zuleika yet again at close quarters, +and verified their remembrance of her, the half- +formed desire in them to die too was hardened to +a vow. + + +158 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + You cannot make a man by standing a sheep +on its hind-legs. But by standing a flock of sheep +in that position you can make a crowd of men. +If man were not a gregarious animal, the world +might have achieved, by this time, some real pro- +gress towards civilisation. Segregate him, and he +is no fool. But let him loose among his fellows, +and he is lost -- he becomes just an unit in un- +reason. If any one of the undergraduates had +met Miss Dobson in the desert of Sahara, he +would have fallen in love with her; but not one +in a thousand of them would have wished to die +because she did not love him. The Duke's was a +peculiar case. For him to fall in love was itself +a violent peripety, bound to produce a violent up-. +heaval; and such was his pride that for his love +to be unrequited would naturally enamour him of +death. These other, these quite ordinary, young +men were the victims less of Zuleika than of the +Duke's example, and of one another. A crowd, +proportionately to its size, magnifies all that in +its units pertains to the emotions, and diminishes +all that in them pertains to thought. It was be- +cause these undergraduates were a crowd that +their passion for Zuleika was so intense; and it +was because they were a crowd that they followed +so blindly the lead given to them. To die for +Miss Dobson was "the thing to do." The Duke +was going to do it. The Junta was going to do it. +It is a hateful fact, but we must face the fact, + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 159 + +that snobbishness was one of the springs to the +tragedy here chronicled. + We may set to this crowd's credit that it re- +frained now from following Zuleika. Not one +of the ladies present was deserted by her escort. +All the men recognised the Duke's right to be +alone with Zuleika now. We may set also to their +credit that they carefully guarded the ladies from +all knowledge of what was afoot. + Side by side, the great lover and his beloved +wandered away, beyond the light of the Japanese +lanterns, and came to Salt Cellar. + The moon, like a gardenia in the night's button- +hole -- but no! why should a writer never be able +to mention the moon without likening her to +something else -- usually something to which she +bears not the faintest resemblance?. . . The moon, +looking like nothing whatsoever but herself, was +engaged in her old and futile endeavour to mark +the hours correctly on the sun-dial at the centre of +the lawn. Never, except once, late one night in +the eighteenth century, when the toper who was +Sub-Warden had spent an hour in trying to set +his watch here, had she received the slightest en- +couragement. Still she wanly persisted. And this +was the more absurd in her because Salt Cellar +offered very good scope for those legitimate effects +of hers which we one and all admire. Was it +nothing to her to have cut those black shadows +across the cloisters? Was it nothing to her that + + +160 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +she so magically mingled her rays with the candle- +light shed forth from Zuleika's bedroom? Noth- +ing, that she had cleansed the lawn of all its col- +our, and made of it a platform of silver-grey, fit +for fairies to dance on? + If Zuleika, as she paced the gravel path, had +seen how transfigured -- how nobly like the Tragic +Muse -- she was just now, she could not have gone +on bothering the Duke for a keepsake of the +tragedy that was to be. + She was still set on having his two studs. He +was still firm in his refusal to misappropriate +those heirlooms. In vain she pointed out to him +that the pearls he meant, the white ones, no longer +existed; that the pearls he was wearing were no +more "entailed" than if he had got them yester- +day. "And you actually <i>did</i> get them yester- +day," she said. "And from me. And I want +them back." + "You are ingenious," he admitted. "I, in my +simple way, am but head of the Tanville-Tanker- +ton family. Had you accepted my offer of mar- +riage, you would have had the right to wear these +two pearls during your life-time. I am very +happy to die for you. But tamper with the prop- +erty of my successor I cannot and will not. I am +sorry," he added. + "Sorry!" echoed Zuleika. "Yes, and you were +'sorry' you couldn't dine with me to-night. But +any little niggling scruple is more to you than I + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 161 + +am. What old maids men are!" And viciously +with her fan she struck one of the cloister pillars. + Her outburst was lost on the Duke. At her +taunt about his not dining with her, he had stood +still, clapping one hand to his brow. The events +of the early evening swept back to him -- his +speech, its unforeseen and horrible reception. He +saw again the preternaturally solemn face of +Oover, and the flushed faces of the rest. He had +thought, as he pointed down to the abyss over +which he stood, these fellows would recoil, and +pull themselves together. They had recoiled, and +pulled themselves together, only in the manner +of athletes about to spring. He was responsible +for them. His own life was his to lose: others he +must not squander. Besides, he had reckoned to +die alone, unique; aloft and apart. . . "There is +something -- something I had forgotten," he said +to Zuleika, "something that will be a great shock +to you"; and he gave her an outline of what had +passed at the Junta. + "And you are sure they really <i>meant</i> it?" she +asked in a voice that trembled. + "I fear so. But they were over-excited. They +will recant their folly. I shall force them to." + "They are not children. You yourself have +just been calling them 'men.' Why should they +obey you?" + She turned at sound of a footstep, and saw a +young man approaching. He wore a coat like the + + +162 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +Duke's, and in his hand he dangled a handker- +chief. He bowed awkwardly, and, holding out +the handkerchief, said to her "I beg your pardon, +but I think you dropped this. I have just picked +it up." + Zuleika looked at the handkerchief, which was +obviously a man's, and smilingly shook her head. + "I don't think you know The MacQuern," said +the Duke, with sulky grace. "This," he said to +the intruder, "is Miss Dobson." + "And is it really true," asked Zuleika, retaining +The MacQuern's hand, "that you want to die +for me?" + Well, the Scots are a self-seeking and a reso- +lute, but a shy, race; swift to act, when swiftness +is needed, but seldom knowing quite what to say. +The MacQuern, with native reluctance to give +something for nothing, had determined to have +the pleasure of knowing the young lady for whom +he was to lay down his life; and this purpose he +had, by the simple stratagem of his own hand- +kerchief, achieved. Nevertheless, in answer to +Zuleika's question, and with the pressure of her +hand to inspire him, the only word that rose to +his lips was "Ay" (which may be roughly trans- +lated as "Yes"). + "You will do nothing of the sort," interposed +the Duke. + "There," said Zuleika, still retaining The Mac- +Quern's hand, "you see, it is forbidden. You + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 163 + +must not defy our dear little Duke. He is not +used to it. It is not done." + "I don't know," said The MacQuern, with a +stony glance at the Duke, "that he has anything +to do with the matter." + "He is older and wiser than you. More a man +of the world. Regard him as your tutor." + "Do <i>you</i> want me not to die for you?" asked +the young man. + "Ah, <i>I</i> should not dare to impose my wishes +on you," said she, dropping his hand. "Even," +she added, "if I knew what my wishes were. And +I don't. I know only that I think it is very, very +beautiful of you to think of dying for me." + "Then that settles it," said The MacQuern. + "No, no! You must not let yourself be influ- +enced by <i>me</i>. Besides, I am not in a mood to +influence anybody. I am overwhelmed. Tell me," +she said, heedless of the Duke, who stood tapping +his heel on the ground, with every manifestation +of disapproval and impatience, "tell me, is it true +that some of the other men love me too, and -- +feel as you do?" + The MacQuern said cautiously that he could +answer for no one but himself. "But," he al- +lowed, "I saw a good many men whom I know, +outside the Hall here, just now, and they seemed +to have made up their minds." + "To die for me? To-morrow?" + "To-morrow. After the Eights, I suppose; at + + +164 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +the same time as the Duke. It wouldn't do to +leave the races undecided." + "Of <i>course</i> not. But the poor dears! It is too +touching! I have done nothing, nothing to de- +serve it." + "Nothing whatsoever," said the Duke drily. + "Oh <i>he</i>," said Zuleika, "thinks me an unre- +deemed brute; just because I don't love him. <i>You</i>, +dear Mr. MacQuern -- does one call you 'Mr.'? +'The' would sound so odd in the vocative. And +I can't very well call you 'MacQuern' -- <i>you</i> don't +think me unkind, do you? I simply can't bear to +think of all these young lives cut short without +my having done a thing to brighten them. What +can I do? -- what can I do to show my gratitude?" + An idea struck her. She looked up to the lit +window of her room. "Mélisande!" she called. + A figure appeared at the window. "Mademoi- +selle désire?" + "My tricks, Mélisande! Bring down the box, +quick!" She turned excitedly to the two young +men. "It is all I can do in return, you see. If I +could dance for them, I would. If I could sing, +I would sing to them. I do what I can. You," +she said to the Duke, "must go on to the platform +and announce it." + "Announce what?" + "Why, that I am going to do my tricks! All +you need say is 'Ladies and gentlemen, I have the +pleasure to --' What is the matter now?" + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 165 + + "You make me feel slightly unwell," said the +Duke. + "And <i>you</i> are the most d-dis-disobliging and +the unkindest and the b-beastliest person I ever +met," Zuleika sobbed at him through her hands. +The MacQuern glared reproaches at him. So did +Mélisande, who had just appeared through the +postern, holding in her arms the great casket of +malachite. A painful scene; and the Duke gave +in. He said he would do anything -- anything. +Peace was restored. + The MacQuern had relieved Mélisande of her +burden; and to him was the privilege of bearing +it, in procession with his adored and her quelled +mentor, towards the Hall. + Zuleika babbled like a child going to a juvenile +party. This was the great night, as yet, in her +life. Illustrious enough already it had seemed to +her, as eve of that ultimate flattery vowed her by +the Duke. So fine a thing had his doom seemed +to her -- his doom alone -- that it had sufficed to +flood her pink pearl with the right hue. And now +not on him alone need she ponder. Now he was +but the centre of a group -- a group that might +grow and grow -- a group that might with a little +encouragement be a multitude. . . With such +hopes dimly whirling in the recesses of her soul, +her beautiful red lips babbled. + + +X + +SOUNDS of a violin, drifting out through the open +windows of the Hall, suggested that the second +part of the concert had begun. All the under- +graduates, however, except the few who figured +in the programme, had waited outside till their +mistress should re-appear. The sisters and cous- +ins of the Judas men had been escorted back to +their places and hurriedly left there. + It was a hushed, tense crowd. + "The poor darlings!" murmured Zuleika, paus- +ing to survey them. "And oh," she exclaimed, +"there won't be room for all of them in there!" + "You might give an 'overflow' performance out +here afterwards," suggested the Duke, grimly. + This idea flashed on her a better. Why not +give her performance here and now? -- now, so +eager was she for contact, as it were, with this +crowd; here, by moonlight, in the pretty glow of +these paper lanterns. Yes, she said, let it be here +and now; and she bade the Duke make the an- +nouncement. + "What shall I say?" he asked. "'Gentlemen, +I have the pleasure to announce that Miss Zuleika +Dobson, the world-renowned She-Wizard, will + +166 + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 167 + +now oblige'? Or shall I call them 'Gents,' <i>tout +court</i>?" + She could afford to laugh at his ill-humour. +She had his promise of obedience. She told him +to say something graceful and simple. + The noise of the violin had ceased. There was +not a breath of wind. The crowd in the quad- +rangle was as still and as silent as the night itself. +Nowhere a tremour. And it was borne in on +Zuleika that this crowd had one mind as well as +one heart -- a common resolve, calm and clear, as +well as a common passion. No need for her to +strengthen the spell now. No waverers here. +And thus it came true that gratitude was the sole +motive for her display. + She stood with eyes downcast and hands folded +behind her, moonlit in the glow of lanterns, mod- +est to the point of pathos, while the Duke grace- +fully and simply introduced her to the multitude. +He was, he said, empowered by the lady who +stood beside him to say that she would be pleased +to give them an exhibition of her skill in the art +to which she had devoted her life -- an art which, +more potently perhaps than any other, touched in +mankind the sense of mystery and stirred the fac- +ulty of wonder; the most truly romantic of all the +arts: he referred to the art of conjuring. It was +not too much to say that by her mastery of this +art, in which hitherto, it must be confessed, women +had made no very great mark, Miss Zuleika Dob- + + +168 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +son (for such was the name of the lady who stood +beside him) had earned the esteem of the whole +civilised world. And here in Oxford, and in this +College especially, she had a peculiar claim to -- +might he say? -- their affectionate regard, inas- +much as she was the grand-daughter of their ven- +erable and venerated Warden. + As the Duke ceased, there came from his hear- +ers a sound like the rustling of leaves. In return +for it, Zuleika performed that graceful act of +subsidence to the verge of collapse which is +usually kept for the delectation of some royal per- +son. And indeed, in the presence of this doomed +congress, she did experience humility; for she was +not altogether without imagination. But, as she +arose from her "bob," she was her own bold self +again, bright mistress of the situation. + It was impossible for her to give her entertain- +ment in full. Some of her tricks (notably the +Secret Aquarium, and the Blazing Ball of Wor- +sted) needed special preparation, and a table fitted +with a "servante" or secret tray. The table for +to-night's performance was an ordinary one, +brought out from the porter's lodge. The Mac- +Quern deposited on it the great casket. Zuleika, +retaining him as her assistant, picked nimbly out +from their places and put in array the curious +appurtenances of her art -- the Magic Canister, +the Demon Egg-Cup, and the sundry other vessels +which, lost property of young Edward Gibbs, had + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 169 + +been by a Romanoff transmuted from wood to +gold, and were now by the moon reduced tempor- +arily to silver. + In a great dense semicircle the young men dis- +posed themselves around her. Those who were +in front squatted down on the gravel; those who +were behind knelt; the rest stood. Young Ox- +ford! Here, in this mass of boyish faces, all +fused and obliterated, was the realisation of that +phrase. Two or three thousands of human bod- +ies, human souls? Yet the effect of them in the +moonlight was as of one great passive monster. + So was it seen by the Duke, as he stood leaning +against the wall, behind Zuleika's table. He saw +it as a monster couchant and enchanted, a monster +that was to die; and its death was in part his +own doing. But remorse in him gave place to +hostility. Zuleika had begun her performance. +She was producing the Barber's Pole from her +mouth. And it was to her that the Duke's heart +went suddenly out in tenderness and pity. He +forgot her levity and vanity -- her wickedness, as +he had inwardly called it. He thrilled with that +intense anxiety which comes to a man when he +sees his beloved offering to the public an exhibi- +tion of her skill, be it in singing, acting, dancing, +or any other art. Would she acquit herself well? +The lover's trepidation is painful enough when +the beloved has genius -- how should these clods +appreciate her? and who set them in judgment + + +170 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +over her? It must be worse when the beloved +has mediocrity. And Zuleika, in conjuring, had +rather less than that. Though indeed she took +herself quite seriously as a conjurer, she brought +to her art neither conscience nor ambition, in any +true sense of those words. Since her début, she +had learned nothing and forgotten nothing. The +stale and narrow repertory which she had ac- +quired from Edward Gibbs was all she had to +offer; and this, and her marked lack of skill, she +eked out with the self-same "patter" that had +sufficed that impossible young man. It was espe- +cially her jokes that now sent shudders up the +spine of her lover, and brought tears to his eyes, +and kept him in a state of terror as to what she +would say next. "You see," she had exclaimed +lightly after the production of the Barber's Pole, +"how easy it is to set up business as a hair- +dresser." Over the Demon Egg-Cup she said +that the egg was "as good as fresh." And her +constantly reiterated catch-phrase -- "Well, this +is rather queer!" -- was the most distressing thing +of all. + The Duke blushed to think what these men +thought of her. Would love were blind! These +her lovers were doubtless judging her. They for- +gave her -- confound their impudence! -- because +of her beauty. The banality of her performance +was an added grace. It made her piteous. Damn +them, they were sorry for her. Little Noaks was + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 171 + +squatting in the front row, peering up at her +through his spectacles. Noaks was as sorry for +her as the rest of them. Why didn't the earth +yawn and swallow them all up? + Our hero's unreasoning rage was fed by a not +unreasonable jealousy. It was clear to him that +Zuleika had forgotten his existence. To-day, as +soon as he had killed her love, she had shown him +how much less to her was his love than the +crowd's. And now again it was only the crowd +she cared for. He followed with his eyes her +long slender figure as she threaded her way in +and out of the crowd, sinuously, confidingly, pro- +ducing a penny from one lad's elbow, a three- +penny-bit from between another's neck and collar, +half a crown from another's hair, and always re- +peating in that flute-like voice of hers "Well, this +is rather queer!" Hither and thither she fared, +her neck and arms gleaming white from the lumi- +nous blackness of her dress, in the luminous blue- +ness of the night. At a distance, she might have +been a wraith; or a breeze made visible; a vagrom +breeze, warm and delicate, and in league with +death. + Yes, that is how she might have seemed to a +casual observer. But to the Duke there was +nothing weird about her: she was radiantly a +woman; a goddess; and his first and last love. +Bitter his heart was, but only against the mob +she wooed, not against her for wooing it. She + + +172 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +was cruel? All goddesses are that. She was +demeaning herself? His soul welled up anew in +pity, in passion. + Yonder, in the Hall, the concert ran its course, +making a feeble incidental music to the dark +emotions of the quadrangle. It ended somewhat +before the close of Zuleika's rival show; and then +the steps from the Hall were thronged by ladies, +who, with a sprinkling of dons, stood in attitudes +of refined displeasure and vulgar curiosity. The +Warden was just awake enough to notice the sea +of undergraduates. Suspecting some breach of +College discipline, he retired hastily to his own +quarters, for fear his dignity might be somehow +compromised. + Was there ever, I wonder, an historian so pure +as not to have wished just once to fob off on his +readers just one bright fable for effect? I find +myself sorely tempted to tell you that on Zuleika, +as her entertainment drew to a close, the spirit of +the higher thaumaturgy descended like a flame +and found in her a worthy agent. Specious +Apollyon whispers to me "Where would be the +harm? Tell your readers that she cast a seed on +the ground, and that therefrom presently arose +a tamarind-tree which blossorned and bore fruit +and, withering, vanished. Or say she conjured +from an empty basket of osier a hissing and +bridling snake. Why not? Your readers would +be excited, gratified. And you would never be + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 173 + +found out." But the grave eyes of Clio are bent +on me, her servant. Oh pardon, madam: I did +but waver for an instant. It is not too late to +tell my readers that the climax of Zuleika's en- +tertainment was only that dismal affair, the Magic +Canister. + It she took from the table, and, holding it aloft, +cried "Now, before I say good night, I want to +see if I have your confidence. But you mustn't +think this is the confidence trick!" She handed +the vessel to The MacQuern, who, looking like +an overgrown acolyte, bore it after her as she +went again among the audience. Pausing before +a man in the front row, she asked him if he would +trust her with his watch. He held it out to her. +"Thank you," she said, letting her fingers touch +his for a moment before she dropped it into the +Magic Canister. From another man she bor- +rowed a cigarette-case, from another a neck-tie, +from another a pair of sleeve-links, from Noaks +a ring -- one of those iron rings which are sup- +posed, rightly or wrongly, to alleviate rheuma- +tism. And when she had made an ample selection, +she began her return-journey to the table. + On her way she saw in the shadow of the wall +the figure of her forgotten Duke. She saw him, +the one man she had ever loved, also the first +man who had wished definitely to die for her; and +she was touched by remorse. She had said she +would remember him to her dying day; and al- + + +174 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +ready. . . But had he not refused her the where- +withal to remember him -- the pearls she needed +as the <i>clou</i> of her dear collection, the great relic +among relics? + "Would you trust me with your studs?" she +asked him, in a voice that could be heard through- +out the quadrangle, with a smile that was for him +alone. + There was no help for it. He quickly extri- +cated from his shirt-front the black pearl and the +pink. Her thanks had a special emphasis. + The MacQuern placed the Magic Canister be- +fore her on the table. She pressed the outer +sheath down on it. Then she inverted it so that +the contents fell into the false lid; then she +opened it, looked into it, and, exclaiming "Well, +this is rather queer!" held it up so that the +audience whose intelligence she was insulting +might see there was nothing in it. + "Accidents," she said, "will happen in the best- +regulated canisters! But I think there is just a +chance that I shall be able to restore your prop- +erty. Excuse me for a moment." She then shut +the canister, released the false lid, made several +passes over it, opened it, looked into it and said +with a flourish "Now I can clear my character!" +Again she went among the crowd, attended by +The MacQuern; and the loans -- priceless now +because she had touched them -- were in due course +severally restored. When she took the canister + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 175 + +from her acolyte, only the two studs remained +in it. + Not since the night of her flitting from the +Gibbs' humble home had Zuleika thieved. Was +she a back-slider? Would she rob the Duke, and +his heir-presumptive, and Tanville-Tankertons yet +unborn? Alas, yes. But what she now did was +proof that she had qualms. And her way of doing +it showed that for legerdemain she had after all +a natural aptitude which, properly trained, might +have won for her an honourable place in at least +the second rank of contemporary prestidigitators. +With a gesture of her disengaged hand, so swift +as to be scarcely visible, she unhooked her ear- +rings and "passed" them into the canister. This +she did as she turned away from the crowd, on +her way to the Duke. At the same moment, in a +manner technically not less good, though morally +deplorable, she withdrew the studs and "van- +ished" them into her bosom. + Was it triumph, or shame, or of both a little +that so flushed her cheeks as she stood before the +man she had robbed? Or was it the excitement +of giving a present to the man she had loved? +Certain it is that the nakedness of her ears gave +a new look to her face -- a primitive look, open +and sweetly wild. The Duke saw the difference, +without noticing the cause. She was more adora- +ble than ever. He blenched and swayed as in +proximity to a loveliness beyond endurance. His + + +176 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +heart cried out within him. A sudden mist came +over his eyes. + In the canister that she held out to him, the +two pearls rattled like dice. + "Keep them!" he whispered. + "I shall," she whispered back, almost shyly. +"But these, these are for you." And she took one +of his hands, and, holding it open, tilted the +canister over it, and let drop into it the two ear- +rings, and went quickly away. + As she re-appeared at the table, the crowd +gave her a long ovation of gratitude for her per- +formance -- an ovation all the more impressive be- +cause it was solemn and subdued. She curtseyed +again and again, not indeed with the timid sim- +plicity of her first obeisance (so familiar already +was she with the thought of the crowd's doom), +but rather in the manner of a prima donna -- chin +up, eyelids down, all teeth manifest, and hands +from the bosom flung ecstatically wide asunder. + You know how, at a concert, a prima donna +who has just sung insists on shaking hands with +the accompanist, and dragging him forward, to +show how beautiful her nature is, into the ap- +plause that is for herself alone. And your heart, +like mine, has gone out to the wretched victim. +Even so would you have felt for The MacQuern +when Zuleika, on the implied assumption that half +the credit was his, grasped him by the wrist, and, +continuing to curtsey, would not release him till + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 177 + +the last echoes of the clapping had died away. + The ladies on the steps of the Hall moved +down into the quadrangle, spreading their resent- +ment like a miasma. The tragic passion of the +crowd was merged in mere awkwardness. There +was a general movement towards the College +gate. + Zuleika was putting her tricks back into the +great casket, The MacQuern assisting her. The +Scots, as I have said, are a shy race, but a resolute +and a self-seeking. This young chieftain had not +yet recovered from what his heroine had let him +in for. But he did not lose the opportunity of +asking her to lunch with him to-morrow. + "Delighted," she said, fitting the Demon Egg- +Cup into its groove. Then, looking up at him, +"Are you popular?" she asked. "Have you +many friends?" He nodded. She said he must +invite them all. + This was a blow to the young man, who, at +once thrifty and infatuate, had planned a lun- +cheon <i>à deux</i>. "I had hoped --" he began. + "Vainly," she cut him short. + There was a pause. "Whom shall I invite, +then?" + "I don't know any of them. How should I +have preferences?" She remembered the Duke. +She looked round and saw him still standing in +the shadow of the wall. He came towards her. + + +178 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +"Of course," she said hastily to her host, "you +must ask <i>him</i>." + The MacQuern complied. He turned to the +Duke and told him that Miss Dobson had very +kindly promised to lunch with him to-morrow. +"And," said Zuleika, "I simply <i>won't</i> unless you +will." + The Duke looked at her. Had it not been ar- +ranged that he and she should spend his last day +together? Did it mean nothing that she had +given him her ear-rings? Quickly drawing about +him some remnants of his tattered pride, he hid +his wound, and accepted the invitation. + "It seems a shame," said Zuleika to The Mac- +Quern, "to ask you to bring this great heavy box +all the way back again. But --" + Those last poor rags of pride fell away now. +The Duke threw a prehensile hand on the casket, +and, coldly glaring at The MacQuern, pointed +with his other hand towards the College gate. +He, and he alone, was going to see Zuleika home. +It was his last night on earth, and he was not to +be trifled with. Such was the message of his eyes. +The Scotsman's flashed back a precisely similar +message. + Men had fought for Zuleika, but never in her +presence. Her eyes dilated. She had not the +slightest impulse to throw herself between the +two antagonists. Indeed, she stepped back, so as +not to be in the way. A short sharp fight -- how + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 179 + +much better that is than bad blood! She hoped +the better man would win; and (do not mis- +judge her) she rather hoped this man was the +Duke. It occurred to her -- a vague memory of +some play or picture -- that she ought to be hold- +ing aloft a candelabra of lit tapers; no, that was +only done indoors, and in the eighteenth century. +Ought she to hold a sponge? Idle, these specula- +tions of hers, and based on complete ignorance of +the manners and customs of undergraduates. The +Duke and The MacQuern would never have come +to blows in the presence of a lady. Their con- +flict was necessarily spiritual. + And it was the Scotsman, Scots though he was, +who had to yield. Cowed by something demoniac +in the will-power pitted against his, he found +himself retreating in the direction indicated by +the Duke's forefinger. + As he disappeared into the porch, Zuleika +turned to the Duke. "You were splendid," she +said softly. He knew that very well. Does the +stag in his hour of victory need a diploma from +the hind? Holding in his hands the malachite +casket that was the symbol of his triumph, the +Duke smiled dictatorially at his darling. He +came near to thinking of her as a chattel. Then +with a pang he remembered his abject devotion +to her. Abject no longer though! The victory +he had just won restored his manhood, his sense +of supremacy among his fellows. He loved this + + +180 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +woman on equal terms. She was transcendent? +So was he, Dorset. To-night the world had on +its moonlit surface two great ornaments -- Zuleika +and himself. Neither of the pair could be re- +placed. Was one of them to be shattered? Life +and love were good. He had been mad to think +of dying. + No word was spoken as they went together to +Salt Cellar. She expected him to talk about her +conjuring tricks. Could he have been disap- +pointed? She dared not inquire; for she had the +sensitiveness, though no other quality whatsoever, +of the true artist. She felt herself aggrieved. +She had half a mind to ask him to give her back +her ear-rings. And by the way, he hadn't yet +thanked her for them! Well, she would make +allowances for a condemned man. And again +she remembered the omen of which he had told +her. She looked at him, and then up into the +sky. "This same moon," she said to herself, +"sees the battlements of Tankerton. Does she +see two black owls there? Does she hear them +hooting?" + They were in Salt Cellar now. "Mélisande!" +she called up to her window. + "Hush!" said the Duke, "I have something to +say to you." + "Well, you can say it all the better without +that great box in your hands. I want my maid to +carry it up to my room for me." And again she + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 181 + +called out for Mélisande, and received no answer. +"I suppose she's in the house-keeper's room or +somewhere. You had better put the box down +inside the door. She can bring it up later." + She pushed open the postern; and the Duke, +as he stepped across the threshold, thrilled with +a romantic awe. Re-emerging a moment later +into the moonlight, he felt that she had been +right about the box: it was fatal to self-expres- +sion; and he was glad he had not tried to speak +on the way from the Front Quad: the soul needs +gesture; and the Duke's first gesture now was to +seize Zuleika's hands in his. + She was too startled to move. "Zuleika!" he +whispered. She was too angry to speak, but with +a sudden twist she freed her wrists and darted +back. + He laughed. "You are afraid of me. You are +afraid to let me kiss you, because you are afraid +of loving me. This afternoon -- here -- I all but +kissed you. I mistook you for Death. I was +enamoured of Death. I was a fool. That is +what <i>you</i> are, you incomparable darling: you are +a fool. You are afraid of life. I am not. I love +life. I am going to live for you, do you hear?" + She stood with her back to the postern. Anger +in her eyes had given place to scorn. "You +mean," she said, "that you go back on your +promise?" + "You will release me from it." + + +182 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + "You mean you are afraid to die?" + "You will not be guilty of my death. You love +me." + "Good night, you miserable coward." She +stepped back through the postern. + "Don't, Zuleika! Miss Dobson, don't! Pull +yourself together! Reflect! I implore you. . . +You will repent. . ." + Slowly she closed the postern on him. + "You will repent. I shall wait here, under your +window. . ." + He heard a bolt rasped into its socket. He +heard the retreat of a light tread on the paven +hall. + And he hadn't even kissed her! That was his +first thought. He ground his heel in the gravel. + And he had hurt her wrists! This was Zu- +leika's first thought, as she came into her bed- +room. Yes, there were two red marks where +he had held her. No man had ever dared to lay +hands on her. With a sense of contamination, +she proceeded to wash her hands thoroughly with +soap and water. From time to time such words +as "cad" and "beast" came through her teeth. + She dried her hands and flung herself into a +chair, arose and went pacing the room. So this +was the end of her great night! What had she +done to deserve it? How had he dared? + There was a sound as of rain against the win- +dow. She was glad. The night needed cleansing. + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 183 + + He had told her she was afraid of life. Life! +-- to have herself caressed by <i>him;</i> humbly to +devote herself to being humbly doted on; to be +the slave of a slave; to swim in a private pond +of treacle -- ugh! If the thought weren't so cloy- +ing and degrading, it would be laughable. + For a moment her hands hovered over those +two golden and gemmed volumes encasing Brad- +shaw and the A.B.C. Guide. To leave Oxford by +an early train, leave him to drown unthanked, +unlooked at. . . But this could not be done with- +out slighting all those hundreds of other men. . . +And besides. . . + Again that sound on the window-pane. This +time it startled her. There seemed to be no rain. +Could it have been -- little bits of gravel? She +darted noiselessly to the window, pushed it open, +and looked down. She saw the upturned face of +the Duke. She stepped back, trembling with +fury, staring around her. Inspiration came. + She thrust her head out again. "Are you +there?" she whispered. + "Yes, yes. I knew you would come." + "Wait a moment, wait!" + The water-jug stood where she had left it, on +the floor by the wash-stand. It was almost full, +rather heavy. She bore it steadily to the window, +and looked out. + "Come a little nearer!" she whispered. + The upturned and moonlit face obeyed her. + + +184 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +She saw its lips forming the word "Zuleika." She +took careful aim. + Full on the face crashed the cascade of moonlit +water, shooting out on all sides like the petals of +some great silver anemone. + She laughed shrilly as she leapt back, letting +the empty jug roll over on the carpet. Then she +stood tense, crouching, her hands to her mouth, +her eyes askance, as much as to say "Now I've +done it!" She listened hard, holding her breath. +In the stillness of the night was a faint sound of +dripping water, and presently of footsteps going +away. Then stillness unbroken. + + +XI + +I SAID that I was Clio's servant. And I felt, +when I said it, that you looked at me dubiously, +and murmured among yourselves. + Not that you doubted I was somewhat con- +nected with Clio's household. The lady after +whom I have named this book is alive, and well +known to some of you personally, to all of you by +repute. Nor had you finished my first page be- +fore you guessed my theme to be that episode in +her life which caused so great a sensation among +the newspaper-reading public a few years ago. +(It all seems but yesterday, does it not? They +are still vivid to us, those head-lines. We have +hardly yet ceased to be edified by the morals +pointed in those leading articles.) And yet very +soon you found me behaving just like any novelist +-reporting the exact words that passed between +the protagonists at private interviews -- aye, and +the exact thoughts and emotions that were in their +breasts. Little wonder that you wondered! Let +me make things clear to you. + I have my mistress' leave to do this. At first +(for reasons which you will presently understand) +she demurred. But I pointed out to her that I + +185 + + +186 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +had been placed in a false position, and that until +this were rectified neither she nor I could reap +the credit due to us. + Know, then, that for a long time Clio had been +thoroughly discontented. She was happy enough, +she says, when first she left the home of Pierus, +her father, to become a Muse. On those humble +beginnings she looks back with affection. She +kept only one servant, Herodotus. The romantic +element in him appealed to her. He died, and +she had about her a large staff of able and faithful +servants, whose way of doing their work irritated +and depressed her. To them, apparently, life +consisted of nothing but politics and military op- +erations -- things to which she, being a woman, +was somewhat indifferent. She was jealous of +Melpomene. It seemed to her that her own ser- +vants worked from without at a mass of dry +details which might as well be forgotten. Melpo- +mene's worked on material that was eternally +interesting -- the souls of men and women; and +not from without, either; but rather casting +themselves into those souls and showing to us the +essence of them. She was particularly struck by +a remark of Aristotle's, that tragedy was <i>more +philosophic</i> than history, inasmuch as it concerned +itself with what might be, while history was con- +cerned with merely what had been. This summed +up for her what she had often felt, but could not +have exactly formulated. She saw that the de- + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 187 + +partment over which she presided was at best an +inferior one. She saw that just what she had +liked -- and rightly liked -- in poor dear Herodotus +was just what prevented him from being a good +historian. It was wrong to mix up facts and +fancies. But why should her present servants deal +with only one little special set of the variegated +facts of life? It was not in her power to inter- +fere. The Nine, by the terms of the charter that +Zeus had granted to them, were bound to leave +their servants an absolutely free hand. But Clio +could at least refrain from reading the works +which, by a legal fiction, she was supposed to +inspire. Once or twice in the course of a century, +she would glance into this or that new history +book, only to lay it down with a shrug of her +shoulders. Some of the mediæval chronicles she +rather liked. But when, one day, Pallas asked +her what she thought of "The Decline and Fall +of the Roman Empire" her only answer was +<i>ostis toia echei en edone echei en edone toia</i> (For +people who like that kind of thing, that is the +kind of thing they like). This she did let slip. +Generally, throughout all the centuries, she kept +up a pretence of thinking history the greatest of +all the arts. She always held her head high +among her Sisters. It was only on the sly that +she was an omnivorous reader of dramatic and +lyric poetry. She watched with keen interest the +earliest developments of the prose romance in + + +188 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +southern Europe; and after the publication of +'"Clarissa Harlowe" she spent practically all her +time in reading novels. It was not until the +Spring of the year 1863 that an entirely new ele- +ment forced itself into her peaceful life. Zeus +fell in love with her. + To us, for whom so quickly "time doth transfix +the flourish set on youth," there is something +strange, even a trifle ludicrous, in the thought +that Zeus, after all these years, is still at the beck +and call of his passions. And it seems anyhow +lamentable that he has not yet gained self-confi- +dence enough to appear in his own person to the +lady of his choice, and is still at pains to trans- +form himself into whatever object he deems like- +liest to please her. To Clio, suddenly from +Olympus, he flashed down in the semblance of +Kinglake's "Invasion of the Crimea" (four vols., +large 8vo, half-calf). She saw through his dis- +guise immediately, and, with great courage and +independence, bade him begone. Rebuffed, he +was not deflected. Indeed it would seem that +Clio's high spirit did but sharpen his desire. +Hardly a day passed but he appeared in what he +hoped would be the irresistible form -- a recently +discovered fragment of Polybius, an advance copy +of the forthcoming issue of "The Historical Re- +view," the note-book of Professor Carl Vört- +schlaffen. . . One day, all-prying Hermes told +him of Clio's secret addiction to novel-reading. + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 189 + +Thenceforth, year in, year out, it was in the form +of fiction that Zeus wooed her. The sole result +was that she grew sick of the sight of novels, +and found a perverse pleasure in reading history. +These dry details of what had actually happened +were a relief, she told herself, from all that make- +believe. + One Sunday afternoon -- the day before that +very Monday on which this narrative opens -- it +occurred to her how fine a thing history might be +if the historian had the novelist's privileges. Sup- +pose he could be present at every scene which he +was going to describe, a presence invisible and +inevitable, and equipped with power to see into +the breasts of all the persons whose actions he set +himself to watch. . . + While the Muse was thus musing, Zeus (dis- +guised as Miss Annie S. Swan's latest work) paid +his usual visit. She let her eyes rest on him. +Hither and thither she divided her swift mind, and +addressed him in winged words. "Zeus, father +of gods and men, cloud-compeller, what wouldst +thou of me? But first will I say what I would of +thee"; and she besought him to extend to the +writers of history such privileges as are granted +to novelists. His whole manner had changed. +He listened to her with the massive gravity of a +ruler who never yet has allowed private influence +to obscure his judgment. He was silent for some +time after her appeal. Then, in a voice of thun- + + +190 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +der, which made quake the slopes of Parnassus, +he gave his answer. He admitted the disabilities +under which historians laboured. But the novel- +ists -- were they not equally handicapped? They +had to treat of persons who never existed, events +which never were. Only by the privilege of being +in the thick of those events, and in the very bowels +of those persons, could they hope to hold the +reader's attention. If similar privileges were +granted to the historian, the demand for novels +would cease forthwith, and many thousand of +hard-working, deserving men and women would +be thrown out of employment. In fact, Clio had +asked him an impossible favour. But he might -- +he said he conceivably might -- be induced to let +her have her way just once. In that event, all she +would have to do was to keep her eye on the +world's surface, and then, so soon as she had +reason to think that somewhere was impending +something of great import, to choose an historian. +On him, straightway, Zeus would confer invisi- +bility, inevitability, and psychic penetration, with +a flawless memory thrown in. + On the following afternoon, Clio's roving eye +saw Zuleika stepping from the Paddington plat- +form into the Oxford train. A few moments later +I found myself suddenly on Parnassus. In hurried +words Clio told me how I came there, and what I +had to do. She said she had selected me because +she knew me to be honest, sober, and capable, + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 191 + +and no stranger to Oxford. Another moment, +and I was at the throne of Zeus. With a majesty +of gesture which I shall never forget, he stretched +his hand over me, and I was indued with the +promised gifts. And then, lo! I was on the plat- +form of Oxford station. The train was not due +for another hour. But the time passed pleasantly +enough. + It was fun to float all unseen, to float all un- +hampered by any corporeal nonsense, up and +down the platform. It was fun to watch the in- +most thoughts of the station-master, of the por- +ters, of the young person at the buffet. But of +course I did not let the holiday-mood master me. +I realised the seriousness of my mission. I must +concentrate myself on the matter in hand: Miss +Dobson's visit. What was going to happen? +Prescience was no part of my outfit. From what +I knew about Miss Dobson, I deduced that she +would be a great success. That was all. Had I +had the instinct that was given to those Emperors +in stone, and even to the dog Corke, I should +have begged Clio to send in my stead some man +of stronger nerve. She had charged me to be +calmly vigilant, scrupulously fair. I could have +been neither, had I from the outset foreseen all. +Only because the immediate future was broken to +me by degrees, first as a set of possibilities, then +as a set of probabilities that yet might not come +off, was I able to fulfil the trust imposed in me. + + +192 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +Even so, it was hard. I had always accepted the +doctrine that to understand all is to forgive all. +Thanks to Zeus, I understood all about Miss +Dobson, and yet there were moments when she +repelled me -- moments when I wished to see her +neither from without nor from within. So soon +as the Duke of Dorset met her on the Monday +night, I felt I was in duty bound to keep him +under constant surveillance. Yet there were mo- +ments when I was so sorry for him that I deemed +myself a brute for shadowing him. + Ever since I can remember, I have been beset +by a recurring doubt as to whether I be or be not +quite a gentleman. I have never attempted to +define that term: I have but feverishly wondered +whether in its usual acceptation (whatever that +is) it be strictly applicable to myself. Many peo- +ple hold that the qualities connoted by it are +primarily moral -- a kind heart, honourable con- +duct, and so forth. On Clio's mission, I found +honour and kindness tugging me in precisely op- +posite directions. In so far as honour tugged the +harder, was I the more or the less gentlemanly? +But the test is not a fair one. Curiosity tugged +on the side of honour. This goes to prove me a +cad? Oh, set against it the fact that I did at one +point betray Clio's trust. When Miss Dobson +had done the deed recorded at the close of the +foregoing chapter, I gave the Duke of Dorset an +hour's grace. + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 193 + + I could have done no less. In the lives of most +of us is some one thing that we would not after +the lapse of how many years soever confess to +our most understanding friend; the thing that +does not bear thinking of; the one thing to be +forgotten; the unforgettable thing. Not the com- +mission of some great crime: this can be atoned +for by great penances; and the very enormity of +it has a dark grandeur. Maybe, some little deadly +act of meanness, some hole-and-corner treachery? +But what a man has once willed to do, his will +helps him to forget. The unforgettable thing in +his life is usually not a thing he has done or left +undone, but a thing done to him -- some insolence +or cruelty for which he could not, or did not, +avenge himself. This it is that often comes back +to him, years after, in his dreams, and thrusts +itself suddenly into his waking thoughts, so that +he clenches his hands, and shakes his head, and +hums a tune loudly -- anything to beat it off. In +the very hour when first befell him that odious +humiliation, would you have spied on him? I +gave the Duke of Dorset an hour's grace. + What were his thoughts in that interval, what +words, if any, he uttered to the night, never will +be known. For this, Clio has abused me in lan- +guage less befitting a Muse than a fishwife. I +do not care. I would rather be chidden by Clio +than by my own sense of delicacy, any day. + + +XII + +NOT less averse than from dogging the Duke was +I from remaining another instant in the presence +of Miss Dobson. There seemed to be no possible +excuse for her. This time she had gone too far. +She was outrageous. As soon as the Duke had +had time to get clear away, I floated out into the +night. + I may have consciously reasoned that the best +way to forget the present was in the revival of +memories. Or I may have been driven by a mere +homing instinct. Anyhow, it was in the direction +of my old College that I went. Midnight was +tolling as I floated in through the shut grim gate +at which I had so often stood knocking for ad- +mission. + The man who now occupied my room had +sported his oak -- my oak. I read the name on +the visiting-card attached thereto -- E. J. Crad- +dock -- and went in. + E. J. Craddock, interloper, was sitting at my +table, with elbows squared and head on one side, +in the act of literary composition. The oars and +caps on my walls betokened him a rowing-man. +Indeed, I recognised his somewhat heavy face as + +194 + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 195 + +that of the man whom, from the Judas barge this +afternoon, I had seen rowing "stroke" in my +College Eight. + He ought, therefore, to have been in bed and +asleep two hours ago. And the offence of his +vigil was aggravated by a large tumbler that stood +in front of him, containing whisky and soda. +From this he took a deep draught. Then he read +over what he had written. I did not care to peer +over his shoulder at MS. which, though written +in my room, was not intended for my eyes. But +the writer's brain was open to me; and he had +written "I, the undersigned Edward Joseph +Craddock, do hereby leave and bequeath all my +personal and other property to Zuleika Dobson, +spinster. This is my last will and testament." + He gnawed his pen, and presently altered the +"hereby leave" to "hereby and herewith leave." +Fool! + I thereby and therewith left him. As I emerged +through the floor of the room above -- through the +very carpet that had so often been steeped in wine, +and encrusted with smithereens of glass, in the +brave old days of a well-remembered occupant -- I +found two men, both of them evidently reading- +men. One of them was pacing round the room. +"Do you know," he was saying, "what she re- +minded me of, all the time? Those words -- +aren't they in the Song of Solomon? -- 'fair as the +moon, clear as the sun, and. . .and. . .'" + + +196 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + "'Terrible as an army with banners,'" supplied +his host -- rather testily, for he was writing a let- +ter. It began "My dear Father. By the time you +receive this I shall have taken a step which. . ." + Clearly it was vain to seek distraction in my +old College. I floated out into the untenanted +meadows. Over them was the usual coverlet of +white vapour, trailed from the Isis right up to +Merton Wall. The scent of these meadows' mois- +ture is the scent of Oxford. Even in hottest noon, +one feels that the sun has not dried <i>them</i>. Always +there is moisture drifting across them, drifting +into the Colleges. It, one suspects, must have +had much to do with the evocation of what is +called the Oxford spirit -- that gentlest spirit, so +lingering and searching, so dear to them who as +youths were brought into ken of it, so exasper- +ating to them who were not. Yes, certainly, it is +this mild, miasmal air, not less than the grey +beauty and gravity of the buildings, that has +helped Oxford to produce, and foster eternally, +her peculiar race of artist-scholars, scholar-artists. +The undergraduate, in his brief periods of resi- +dence, is too buoyant to be mastered by the spirit +of the place. He does but salute it, and catch the +manner. It is on him who stays to spend his +maturity here that the spirit will in its fulness +gradually descend. The buildings and their tra- +ditions keep astir in his mind whatsoever is gra- +cious; the climate, enfolding and enfeebling him, + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 197 + +lulling him, keeps him careless of the sharp, harsh, +exigent realities of the outer world. Careless? +Not utterly. These realities may be seen by him. +He may study them, be amused or touched by +them. But they cannot fire him. Oxford is too +damp for that. The "movements" made there +have been no more than protests against the mo- +bility of others. They have been without the +dynamic quality implied in their name. They have +been no more than the sighs of men gazing at +what other men had left behind them; faint, im- +possible appeals to the god of retrogression, ut- +tered for their own sake and ritual, rather than +with any intent that they should be heard. Ox- +ford, that lotus-land, saps the will-power, the +power of action. But, in doing so, it clarifies the +mind, makes larger the vision, gives, above all, +that playful and caressing suavity of manner +which comes of a conviction that nothing matters, +except ideas, and that not even ideas are worth +dying for, inasmuch as the ghosts of them slain +seem worthy of yet more piously elaborate +homage than can be given to them in their hey- +day. If the Colleges could be transferred to the +dry and bracing top of some hill, doubtless they +would be more evidently useful to the nation. But +let us be glad there is no engineer or enchanter to +compass that task. <i>Egomet</i>, I would liefer have +the rest of England subside into the sea than have +Oxford set on a salubrious level. For there is + + +198 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +nothing in England to be matched with what lurks +in the vapours of these meadows, and in the shad- +ows of these spires -- that mysterious, inenubilable +spirit, spirit of Oxford. Oxford! The very sight +of the word printed, or sound of it spoken, is +fraught for me with most actual magic. + And on that moonlit night when I floated +among the vapours of these meadows, myself less +than a vapour, I knew and loved Oxford as never +before, as never since. Yonder, in the Colleges, +was the fume and fret of tragedy -- Love as +Death's decoy, and Youth following her. What +then? Not Oxford was menaced. Come what +might, not a stone of Oxford's walls would be +loosened, nor a wreath of her vapours be undone, +nor lost a breath of her sacred spirit. + I floated up into the higher, drier air, that I +might, for once, see the total body of that spirit. + There lay Oxford far beneath me, like a map in +grey and black and silver. All that I had known +only as great single things I saw now outspread +in apposition, and tiny; tiny symbols, as it were, +of themselves, greatly symbolising their oneness. +There they lay, these multitudinous and disparate +quadrangles, all their rivalries merged in the +making of a great catholic pattern. And the roofs +of the buildings around them seemed level with +their lawns. No higher the roofs of the very +towers. Up from their tiny segment of the earth's +spinning surface they stood negligible beneath in- + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 199 + +finity. And new, too, quite new, in eternity; +transient upstarts. I saw Oxford as a place that +had no more past and no more future than a +mining-camp. I smiled down. O hoary and un- +assailable mushroom!. . . But if a man carry his +sense of proportion far enough, lo! he is back at +the point from which he started. He knows that +eternity, as conceived by him, is but an instant in +eternity, and infinity but a speck in infinity. How +should they belittle the things near to him?. . . +Oxford was venerable and magical, after all, and +enduring. Aye, and not because she would endure +was it the less lamentable that the young lives +within her walls were like to be taken. My +equanimity was gone; and a tear fell on Oxford. + And then, as though Oxford herself were +speaking up to me, the air vibrated with a sweet +noise of music. It was the hour of one; the end +of the Duke's hour of grace. Through the silvery +tangle of sounds from other clocks I floated +quickly down to the Broad. + + +XIII + +I HAD on the way a horrible apprehension. What +if the Duke, in his agony, had taken the one +means to forgetfulness? His room, I could see, +was lit up; but a man does not necessarily choose +to die in the dark. I hovered, afraid, over the +dome of the Sheldonian. I saw that the window +of the room above the Duke's was also lit up. +And there was no reason at all to doubt the sur- +vival of Noaks. Perhaps the sight of him would +hearten me. + I was wrong. The sight of Noaks in his room +was as dismal a thing as could be. With his chin +sunk on his breast, he sat there, on a rickety +chair, staring up at the mantel-piece. This he +had decked out as a sort of shrine. In the centre, +aloft on an inverted tin that had contained Aber- +nethy biscuits, stood a blue plush frame, with an +inner rim of brass, several sizes too big for the +picture-postcard installed in it. Zuleika's image +gazed forth with a smile that was obviously not +intended for the humble worshipper at this ex- +ecrable shrine. On either side of her stood a +small vase, one holding some geraniums, the other + +200 + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 201 + +some mignonette. And just beneath her was +placed that iron ring which, rightly or wrongly, +Noaks supposed to alleviate rheumatism -- that +same iron ring which, by her touch to-night, had +been charged for him with a yet deeper magic, +insomuch that he dared no longer wear it, and +had set it before her as an oblation. + Yet, for all his humility, he was possessed by +a spirit of egoism that repelled me. While he sat +peering over his spectacles at the beauteous image, +he said again and again to himself, in a hollow +voice, "I am so young to die." Every time he +said this, two large, pear-shaped tears emerged +from behind his spectacles, and found their way +to his waistcoat. It did not seem to strike him +that quite half of the undergraduates who con- +templated death -- and contemplated it in a fear- +less, wholesome, manly fashion -- were his juniors. +It seemed to seem to him that his own death, +even though all those other far brighter and more +promising lives than his were to be sacrificed, was +a thing to bother about. Well, if he did not want +to die, why could he not have, at least, the courage +of his cowardice? The world would not cease to +revolve because Noaks still clung to its surface. +For me the whole tragedy was cheapened by his +participation in it. I was fain to leave him. His +squint, his short legs dangling towards the floor, +his tear-sodden waistcoat, and his refrain "I am +so young to die," were beyond measure exasperat- + + +202 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +ing. Yet I hesitated to pass into the room be- +neath, for fear of what I might see there. + How long I might have paltered, had no sound +come from that room, I know not. But a sound +came, sharp and sudden in the night, instantly +reassuring. I swept down into the presence of the +Duke. + He stood with his head flung back and his arms +folded, gorgeous in a dressing-gown of crimson +brocade. In animation of pride and pomp, he +looked less like a mortal man than like a figure +from some great biblical group by Paul Veronese. + And this was he whom I had presumed to pity! +And this was he whom I had half expected to +find dead. + His face, usually pale, was now red; and his +hair, which no eye had ever yet seen disordered, +stood up in a glistening shock. These two changes +in him intensified the effect of vitality. One of +them, however, vanished as I watched it. The +Duke's face resumed its pallor. I realised then +that he had but blushed; and I realised, simul- +taneously, that what had called that blush to his +cheek was what had also been the signal to me +that he was alive. His blush had been a pendant +to his sneeze. And his sneeze had been a pendant +to that outrage which he had been striving to +forget. He had caught cold. + He had caught cold. In the hour of his soul's +bitter need, his body had been suborned against + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 203 + +him. Base! Had he not stripped his body of its +wet vesture? Had he not vigorously dried his +hair, and robed himself in crimson, and struck +in solitude such attitudes as were most congruous +with his high spirit and high rank? He had set +himself to crush remembrance of that by which +through his body his soul had been assailed. And +well had he known that in this conflict a giant +demon was his antagonist. But that his own body +would play traitor -- no, this he had not foreseen. +This was too base a thing to be foreseen. + He stood quite still, a figure orgulous and +splendent. And it seemed as though the hot +night, too, stood still, to watch him, in awe, +through the open lattices of his window, breath- +lessly. But to me, equipped to see beneath the +surface, he was piteous, piteous in ratio to the +pretension of his aspect. Had he crouched down +and sobbed, I should have been as much relieved +as he. But he stood seignorial and aquiline. + Painless, by comparison with this conflict in +him, seemed the conflict that had raged in him +yesternight. Then, it had been his dandihood +against his passion for Zuleika. What mattered +the issue? Whichever won, the victory were +sweet. And of this he had all the while been +subconscious, gallantly though he fought for his +pride of dandihood. To-night in the battle be- +tween pride and memory, he knew from the out- +set that pride's was but a forlorn hope, and that + + +204 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +memory would be barbarous in her triumph. Not +winning to oblivion, he must hate with a fathom- +less hatred. Of all the emotions, hatred is the +most excruciating. Of all the objects of hatred, +a woman once loved is the most hateful. Of all +deaths, the bitterest that can befall a man is that +he lay down his life to flatter the woman he deems +vilest of her sex. + Such was the death that the Duke of Dorset +saw confronting him. Most men, when they are +at war with the past, have the future as ally. +Looking steadfastly forward, they can forget. +The Duke's future was openly in league with his +past. For him, prospect was memory. All that +there was for him of future was the death to +which his honour was pledged. To envisage that +was to. . .no, he would <i>not</i> envisage it! With a +passionate effort he hypnotised himself to think +of nothing at all. His brain, into which, by the +power Zeus gave me, I was gazing, became a +perfect vacuum, insulated by the will. It was +the kind of experiment which scientists call "beau- +tiful." And yes, beautiful it was. + But not in the eyes of Nature. She abhors a +vacuum. Seeing the enormous odds against which +the Duke was fighting, she might well have stood +aside. But she has no sense of sport whatsoever. +She stepped in. + At first I did not realise what was happening. +I saw the Duke's eyes contract, and the muscles + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 205 + +of his mouth drawn down, and, at the same time, +a tense upward movement of his whole body. +Then, suddenly, the strain undone: a downward +dart of the head, a loud percussion. Thrice the +Duke sneezed, with a sound that was as the +bursting of the dams of body and soul together; +then sneezed again. + Now was his will broken. He capitulated. In +rushed shame and horror and hatred, pell-mell, to +ravage him. + What care now, what use, for deportment? He +walked coweringly round and round his room, +with frantic gestures, with head bowed. He +shuffled and slunk. His dressing-gown had the +look of a gabardine. + Shame and horror and hatred went slashing +and hewing throughout the fallen citadel. At +length, exhausted, he flung himself down on the +window-seat and leaned out into the night, pant- +ing. The air was full of thunder. He clutched +at his throat. From the depths of the black +caverns beneath their brows the eyes of the un- +sleeping Emperors watched him. + He had gone through much in the day that was +past. He had loved and lost. He had striven to +recapture, and had failed. In a strange resolve +he had found serenity and joy. He had been at +the point of death, and had been saved. He had +seen that his beloved was worthless, and he had +not cared. He had fought for her, and con- + + +206 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +quered; and had pled with her, and -- all these +memories were loathsome by reason of that final +thing which had all the while lain in wait for him. + He looked back and saw himself as he had been +at a score of crucial moments in the day -- always +in the shadow of that final thing. He saw himself +as he had been on the playing-fields of Eton; +aye! and in the arms of his nurse, to and fro on +the terrace of Tankerton -- always in the shadow +of that final thing, always piteous and ludicrous, +doomed. Thank heaven the future was unknow- +able? It wasn't, now. To-morrow -- to-day -- he +must die for that accursed fiend of a woman -- +the woman with the hyena laugh. + What to do meanwhile? Impossible to sleep. +He felt in his body the strain of his quick se- +quence of spiritual adventures. He was dog-tired. +But his brain was furiously out of hand: no stop- +ping it. And the night was stifling. And all the +while, in the dead silence, as though his soul had +ears, there was a sound. It was a very faint, un- +earthly sound, and seemed to come from nowhere, +yet to have a meaning. He feared he was rather +over-wrought. + He must express himself. That would soothe +him. Ever since childhood he had had, from time +to time, the impulse to set down in writing his +thoughts or his moods. In such exercises he had +found for his self-consciousness the vent which +natures less reserved than his find in casual talk + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 207 + +with Tom, Dick and Harry, with Jane, Susan, +and Liz. Aloof from either of these triads, he +had in his first term at Eton taken to himself as +confidant, and retained ever since, a great quarto +volume, bound in red morocco and stamped with +his coronet and cypher. It was herein, year by +year, that his soul spread itself. + He wrote mostly in English prose; but other +modes were not infrequent. Whenever he was +abroad, it was his courteous habit to write in the +language of the country where he was residing -- +French, when he was in his house on the Champs +Elysées; Italian, when he was in his villa at Baiae; +and so on. When he was in his own country +he felt himself free to deviate sometimes from the +vernacular into whatever language were aptest to +his frame of mind. In his sterner moods he grav- +itated to Latin, and wrought the noble iron of +that language to effects that were, if anything, a +trifle over-impressive. He found for his highest +flights of contemplation a handy vehicle in San- +scrit. In hours of mere joy it was Greek poetry +that flowed likeliest from his pen; and he had a +special fondness for the metre of Alcaeus. + And now, too, in his darkest hour, it was Greek +that surged in him -- iambics of thunderous wrath +such as those which are volleyed by Prometheus. +But as he sat down to his writing-table, and un- +locked the dear old album, and dipped his pen +in the ink, a great calm fell on him. The iambics + + +208 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +in him began to breathe such sweetness as is on +the lips of Alcestis going to her doom. But, just +as he set pen to paper, his hand faltered, and he +sprang up, victim of another and yet more violent +fit of sneezing. + Disbuskined, dangerous. The spirit of Juvenal +woke in him. He would flay. He would make +Woman (as he called Zuleika) writhe. Latin +hexameters, of course. An epistle to his heir pre- +sumptive. . . "Vae tibi," he began, + + "Vae tibi, vae misero, nisi circumspexeris artes + Femineas, nam nulla salus quin femina possit + Tradere, nulla fides quin" -- + +"Quin," he repeated. In writing soliloquies, +his trouble was to curb inspiration. The thought +that he was addressing his heir-presumptive -- now +heir-only-too-apparent -- gave him pause. Nor, +he reflected, was he addressing this brute only, but +a huge posthumous audience. These hexameters +would be sure to appear in the "authorised" bi- +ography. "A melancholy interest attaches to the +following lines, written, it would seem, on the +very eve of". . . He winced. Was it really pos- +sible, and no dream, that he was to die to-morrow +-- to-day? + Even you, unassuming reader, go about with +a vague notion that in your case, somehow, the +ultimate demand of nature will be waived. The +Duke, until he conceived his sudden desire to die, + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 209 + +had deemed himself certainly exempt. And now, +as he sat staring at his window, he saw in the +paling of the night the presage of the dawn of his +own last day. Sometimes (orphaned though he +was in early childhood) he had even found it hard +to believe there was no exemption for those to +whom he stood in any personal relation. He +remembered how, soon after he went to Eton, he +had received almost with incredulity the news of +the death of his god-father, Lord Stackley, an +octogenarian. . . . He took from the table his +album, knowing that on one of the earliest pages +was inscribed his boyish sense of that bereave- +ment. Yes, here the passage was, written in a +large round hand: + + "Death knocks, as we know, at the door of the +cottage and of the castle. He stalks up the front- +garden and the steep steps of the semi-detached +villa, and plies the ornamental knocker so imperi- +ously that the panels of imitation stained glass +quiver in the thin front-door. Even the family +that occupies the topmost story of a building +without a lift is on his ghastly visiting-list. He +rattles his fleshless knuckles against the door of +the gypsy's caravan. Into the savage's tent, wig- +wam, or wattled hut, he darts unbidden. Even +on the hermit in the cave he forces his obnoxious +presence. His is an universal beat, and he walks +it with a grin. But be sure it is at the sombre + + +210 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +portal of the nobleman that he knocks with the +greatest gusto. It is there, where haply his visit +will be commemorated with a hatchment; it is +then, when the muffled thunder of the Dead +March in 'Saul' will soon be rolling in cathedrals; +it is then, it is there, that the pride of his unques- +tioned power comes grimliest home to him. Is +there no withstanding him? Why should he be +admitted always with awe, a cravenly-honoured +guest? When next he calls, let the butler send +him about his business, or tell him to step round +to the servants' entrance. If it be made plain to +him that his visits are an impertinence, he will +soon be disemboldened. Once the aristocracy +make a stand against him, there need be no more +trouble about the exorbitant Duties named after +him. And for the hereditary system -- that system +which both offends the common sense of the Rad- +ical, and wounds the Tory by its implied admission +that noblemen are mortal -- a seemly substitute +will have been found." + + Artless and crude in expression, very boyish, +it seemed now to its author. Yet, in its simple +wistfulness, it had quality: it rang true. The +Duke wondered whether, with all that he had +since mastered in the great art of English prose, +he had not lost something, too. + "Is there no withstanding him?" To think +that the boy who uttered that cry, and gave back + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 211 + +so brave an answer, was within nine years to go +seek death of his own accord! How the gods +must be laughing! Yes, the exquisite point of the +joke, for them, was that he <i>chose</i> to die. But -- +and, as the thought flashed through him, he +started like a man shot -- what if he chose not to? +Stay, surely there was some reason why he <i>must</i> +die. Else, why throughout the night had he taken +his doom for granted?. . . Honour: yes, he had +pledged himself. Better death than dishonour. +Was it, though? was it? Ah, he, who had come +so near to death, saw dishonour as a tiny trifle. +Where was the sting of it? Not he would be +ridiculous to-morrow -- to-day. Every one would +acclaim his splendid act of moral courage. She, +she, the hyena woman, would be the fool. No one +would have thought of dying for her, had he not +set the example. Every one would follow his new +example. Yes, he would save Oxford yet. That +was his duty. Duty and darling vengeance! And +life -- life! + It was full dawn now. Gone was that faint, +monotonous sound which had punctuated in his +soul the horrors of his vigil. But, in reminder of +those hours, his lamp was still burning. He ex- +tinguished it; and the going-out of that tarnished +light made perfect his sense of release. + He threw wide his arms in welcome of the great +adorable day, and of all the great adorable days +that were to be his. + + +212 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + He leaned out from his window, drinking the +dawn in. The gods had made merry over him, +had they? And the cry of the hyena had made +night hideous. Well, it was his turn now. He +would laugh last and loudest. + And already, for what was to be, he laughed +outright into the morning; insomuch that the birds +in the trees of Trinity, and still more the Em- +perors over the way, marvelled greatly. + + +XIV + +THEY had awaited thousands and innumerable +thousands of daybreaks in the Broad, these Em- +perors, counting the long slow hours till the night +were over. It is in the night especially that their +fallen greatness haunts them. Day brings some +distraction. They are not incurious of the lives +around them -- these little lives that succeed one +another so quickly. To them, in their immemorial +old age, youth is a constant wonder. And so is +death, which to them comes not. Youth or death +-- which, they had often asked themselves, was the +goodlier? But it was ill that these two things +should be mated. It was ill-come, this day of +days. + Long after the Duke was in bed and asleep, his +peal of laughter echoed in the ears of the Em- +perors. Why had he laughed? + And they said to themselves "We are very old +men, and broken, and in a land not our own. +There are things that we do not understand." + Brief was the freshness of the dawn. From all +points of the compass, dark grey clouds mounted +into the sky. There, taking their places as though +in accordance to a strategic plan laid down for + +213 + + +214 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +them, they ponderously massed themselves, and +presently, as at a given signal, drew nearer to +earth, and halted, an irresistible great army, +awaiting orders. + Somewhere under cover of them the sun went +his way, transmitting a sulphurous heat. The +very birds in the trees of Trinity were oppressed +and did not twitter. The very leaves did not +whisper. + Out through the railings, and across the road, +prowled a skimpy and dingy cat, trying to look +like a tiger. + It was all very sinister and dismal. + The hours passed. The Broad put forth, one +by one, its signs of waking. + Soon after eight o'clock, as usual, the front- +door of the Duke's lodgings was opened from +within. The Emperors watched for the faint +cloud of dust that presently emerged, and for her +whom it preceded. To them, this first outcoming +of the landlady's daughter was a moment of daily +interest. Katie! -- they had known her as a tod- +dling child; and later as a little girl scampering +off to school, all legs and pinafore and streaming +golden hair. And now she was sixteen years old. +Her hair, tied back at the nape of her neck, would +very soon be "up." Her big blue eyes were as +they had always been; but she had long passed +out of pinafores into aprons, had taken on a +sedateness befitting her years and her duties, and + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 215 + +was anxious to be regarded rather as an aunt +than as a sister by her brother Clarence, aged +twelve. The Emperors had always predicted that +she would be pretty. And very pretty she was. + As she came slowly out, with eyes downcast to +her broom, sweeping the dust so seriously over +the doorstep and then across the pavement, and +anon when she reappeared with pail and scrub- +bing-brush, and abased herself before the door- +step, and wrought so vehemently there, what filled +her little soul was not the dignity of manual la- +bour. The duties that Zuleika had envied her +were dear to her exactly as they would have been, +yesterday morning, to Zuleika. The Emperors +had often noticed that during vacations their little +favourite's treatment of the doorstep was languid +and perfunctory. They knew well her secret, and +always (for who can be long in England without +becoming sentimental?) they cherished the hope +of a romantic union between her and "a certain +young gentleman," as they archly called the Duke. +His continued indifference to her they took almost +as an affront to themselves. Where in all Eng- +land was a prettier, sweeter girl than their Katie? +The sudden irruption of Zuleika into Oxford was +especially grievous to them because they could +no longer hope against hope that Katie would be +led by the Duke to the altar, and thence into the +highest social circles, and live happily ever after. +Luckily it was for Katie, however, that they + + +216 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +had no power to fill her head with their foolish +notions. It was well for her to have never +doubted she loved in vain. She had soon grown +used to her lot. Not until yesterday had there +been any bitterness. Jealousy surged in Katie at +the very moment when she beheld Zuleika on the +threshold. A glance at the Duke's face when she +showed the visitor up was enough to acquaint her +with the state of his heart. And she did not, for +confirming her intuition, need the two or three +opportunities she took of listening at the keyhole. +What in the course of those informal audiences +did surprise her -- so much indeed that she could +hardly believe her ear -- was that it was possible +for a woman not to love the Duke. Her jealousy +of "that Miss Dobson" was for a while swallowed +up in her pity for him. What she had borne so +cheerfully for herself she could not bear for her +hero. She wished she had not happened to listen. + And this morning, while she knelt swaying and +spreading over "his" doorstep, her blue eyes +added certain tears to be scrubbed away in the +general moisture of the stone. Rising, she dried +her hands in her apron, and dried her eyes with +her hands. Lest her mother should see that she +had been crying, she loitered outside the door. +Suddenly, her roving glance changed to a stare +of acute hostility. She knew well that the person +wandering towards her was -- no, not "that Miss + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 217 + +Dobson," as she had for the fraction of an instant +supposed, but the next worst thing. + It has been said that Mélisande indoors was an +evidently French maid. Out of doors she was not +less evidently Zuleika's. Not that she aped her +mistress. The resemblance had come by force of +propinquity and devotion. Nature had laid no +basis for it. Not one point of form or colour +had the two women in common. It has been said +that Zuleika was not strictly beautiful. Mélisande, +like most Frenchwomen, was strictly plain. But in +expression and port, in her whole <i>tournure</i>, she +had become, as every good maid does, her mis- +tress' replica. The poise of her head, the bold- +ness of her regard and brilliance of her smile, +the leisurely and swinging way in which she +walked, with a hand on the hip -- all these things +of hers were Zuleika's too. She was no conqueror. +None but the man to whom she was betrothed -- +a waiter at the Café Tourtel, named Pelléas -- +had ever paid court to her; nor was she covetous +of other hearts. Yet she looked victorious, and +insatiable of victories, and "terrible as an army +with banners." + In the hand that was not on her hip she carried +a letter. And on her shoulders she had to bear +the full burden of the hatred that Zuleika had +inspired in Katie. But this she did not know. +She came glancing boldly, leisurely, at the num- +bers on the front-doors. + + +218 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + Katie stepped back on to the doorstep, lest the +inferiority of her stature should mar the effect of +her disdain. + "Good-day. Is it here that Duke D'Orsay +lives?" asked Mélisande, as nearly accurate as a +Gaul may be in such matters. + "The Duke of Dorset," said Katie with a cold +and insular emphasis, "lives here." And "You," +she tried to convey with her eyes, "you, for all +your smart black silk, are a hireling. I am Miss +Batch. I happen to have a hobby for housework. +I have not been crying." + "Then please mount this to him at once," said +Mélisande, holding out the letter. "It is from +Miss Dobson's part. Very express. I wait +response." + "You are very ugly," Katie signalled with her +eyes. "I am very pretty. I have the Oxfordshire +complexion. And I play the piano." With her +lips she said merely, "His Grace is not called be- +fore nine o'clock." + "But to-day you go wake him now -- quick -- +is it not?" + "Quite out of the question," said Katie. "If +you care to leave that letter here, I will see that +it is placed on his Grace's breakfast-table, with +the morning's post." "For the rest," added her +eyes, "Down with France!" + "I find you droll, but droll, my little one!" +cried Mélisande. + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 219 + + Katie stepped back and shut the door in her +face. "Like a little Empress," the Emperors +commented. + The Frenchwoman threw up her hands and +apostrophised heaven. To this day she believes +that all the <i>bonnes</i> of Oxford are mad, but mad, +and of a madness. + She stared at the door, at the pail and scrub- +bing-brush that had been shut out with her, at the +letter in her hand. She decided that she had bet- +ter drop the letter into the slit in the door and +make report to Miss Dobson. + As the envelope fell through the slit to the +door-mat, Katie made at Mélisande a grimace +which, had not the panels been opaque, would +have astonished the Emperors. Resuming her +dignity, she picked the thing up, and, at arm's +length, examined it. It was inscribed in pencil. +Katie's lips curled at sight of the large, audacious +handwriting. But it is probable that whatever +kind of handwriting Zuleika might have had +would have been just the kind that Katie would +have expected. + Fingering the envelope, she wondered what the +wretched woman had to say. It occurred to her +that the kettle was simmering on the hob in the +kitchen, and that she might easily steam open +the envelope and master its contents. However, +her doing this would have in no way affected the +course of the tragedy. And so the gods (being + + +220 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +to-day in a strictly artistic mood) prompted her +to mind her own business. + Laying the Duke's table for breakfast, she +made as usual a neat rectangular pile of the letters +that had come for him by post. Zuleika's letter +she threw down askew. That luxury she allowed +herself. + And he, when he saw the letter, allowed him- +self the luxury of leaving it unopened awhile. +Whatever its purport, he knew it could but min- +ister to his happy malice. A few hours ago, with +what shame and dread it would have stricken +him! Now it was a dainty to be dallied with. + His eyes rested on the black tin boxes that +contained his robes of the Garter. Hateful had +been the sight of them in the watches of the night, +when he thought he had worn those robes for the +last time. But now --! + He opened Zuleika's letter. It did not disap- +point him. + + "DEAR DUKE, -- <i>Do, do</i> forgive me. I am be- +yond words ashamed of the silly tomboyish thing +I did last night. Of course it was no worse than +that, but an awful fear haunts me that you <i>may</i> +have thought I acted in anger at the idea of your +breaking your promise to me. Well, it is quite +true I had been hurt and angry when you hinted +at doing that, but the moment I left you I saw +that you had been only in fun, and I enjoyed the + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 221 + +joke against myself, though I thought it was +rather too bad of you. And then, as a sort of re- +venge, but almost before I knew what I was doing, +I played that <i>idiotic</i> practical joke on you. I have +been <i>miserable</i> ever since. <i>Do</i> come round as +early as possible and tell me I am forgiven. But +before you tell me that, please lecture me till I +cry -- though indeed I have been crying half +through the night. And then if you want to be +<i>very</i> horrid you may tease me for being so slow +to see a joke. And then you might take me to +see some of the Colleges and things before we go +on to lunch at The MacQuern's? Forgive pencil +and scrawl. Am sitting up in bed to write. -- +Your sincere friend, "Z. D. + "P.S. -- Please burn this." + + At that final injunction, the Duke abandoned +himself to his mirth. "Please burn this." Poor +dear young woman, how modest she was in the +glare of her diplomacy! Why there was nothing, +not one phrase, to compromise her in the eyes of +a coroner's jury!. . . Seriously, she had good rea- +son to be proud of her letter. For the purpose +in view it couldn't have been better done. That +was what made it so touchingly absurd. He put +himself in her position. He pictured himself as +her, "sitting up in bed," pencil in hand, to explain +away, to soothe, to clinch and bind. . . Yes, if +he had happened to be some other man -- one + + +222 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +whom her insult might have angered without giv- +ing love its death-blow, and one who could be +frightened out of not keeping his word -- this let- +ter would have been capital. + He helped himself to some more marmalade, +and poured out another cup of coffee. Nothing +is more thrilling, thought he, than to be treated +as a cully by the person you hold in the hollow of +your hand. + But within this great irony lay (to be glided +over) another irony. He knew well in what +mood Zuleika had done what she had done to +him last night; yet he preferred to accept her ex- +planation of it. + Officially, then, he acquitted her of anything +worse than tomboyishness. But this verdict for +his own convenience implied no mercy to the cul- +prit. The sole point for him was how to ad- +minister her punishment the most poignantly. +Just how should he word his letter? + He rose from his chair, and "Dear Miss Dob- +son -- no, <i>My</i> dear Miss Dobson," he murmured, +pacing the room, "I am so very sorry I cannot +come to see you: I have to attend two lectures this +morning. By contrast with this weariness, it will +be the more delightful to meet you at The Mac- +Quern's. I want to see as much as I can of you +to-day, because to-night there is the Bump Supper, +and to-morrow morning, alas! I must motor to +Windsor for this wretched Investiture. Mean- + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 223 + +while, how can you ask to be forgiven when there +is nothing whatever to forgive? It seems to me +that mine, not yours, is the form of humour that +needs explanation. My proposal to die for you +was made in as playful a spirit as my proposal +to marry you. And it is really for me to ask for- +giveness of you. One thing especially," he mur- +mured, fingering in his waistcoat-pocket the ear- +rings she had given him, "pricks my conscience. +I do feel that I ought not to have let you give +me these two pearls -- at any rate, not the one +which went into premature mourning for me. As +I have no means of deciding which of the two this +one is, I enclose them both, with the hope that +the pretty difference between them will in time re- +appear". . . Or words to that effect. . . Stay! +why not add to the joy of contriving that effect +the greater joy of watching it? Why send Zu- +leika a letter? He would obey her summons. +He would speed to her side. He snatched up a +hat. + In this haste, however, he detected a certain +lack of dignity. He steadied himself, and went +slowly to the mirror. There he adjusted his hat +with care, and regarded himself very seriously, +very sternly, from various angles, like a man in- +vited to paint his own portrait for the Uffizi. He +must be worthy of himself. It was well that +Zuleika should be chastened. Great was her sin. +Out of life and death she had fashioned toys for + + +224 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +her vanity. But his joy must be in vindication of +what was noble, not in making suffer what was +vile. Yesterday he had been her puppet, her +Jumping-Jack; to-day it was as avenging angel +that he would appear before her. The gods had +mocked him who was now their minister. Their +minister? Their master, as being once more +master of himself. It was they who had plotted +his undoing. Because they loved him they were +fain that he should die young. The Dobson +woman was but their agent, their cat's-paw. By +her they had all but got him. Not quite! And +now, to teach them, through her, a lesson they +would not soon forget, he would go forth. + Shaking with laughter, the gods leaned over +the thunder-clouds to watch him. + He went forth. + On the well-whitened doorstep he was con- +fronted by a small boy in uniform bearing a tele- +gram. + "Duke of Dorset?" asked the small boy. + Opening the envelope, the Duke saw that the +message, with which was a prepaid form for re- +ply, had been handed in at the Tankerton post- +office. It ran thus: + + <i>Deeply regret inform your grace last night + two black owls came and perched on battle- + ments remained there through night hooting + at dawn flew away none knows whither + awaiting instructions Jellings</i> + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 225 + + The Duke's face, though it grew white, moved +not one muscle. + Somewhat shamed now, the gods ceased from +laughing. + The Duke looked from the telegram to the boy. +"Have you a pencil?" he asked. + "Yes, my Lord," said the boy, producing a +stump of pencil. + Holding the prepaid form against the door, the +Duke wrote: + + <i>Jellings Tankerton Hall + Prepare vault for funeral Monday + Dorset</i> + + His handwriting was as firmly and minutely +beautiful as ever. Only in that he forgot there +was nothing to pay did he belie his calm. "Here," +he said to the boy, "is a shilling; and you may +keep the change." + "Thank you, my Lord," said the boy, and went +his way, as happy as a postman. + + +XV + +HUMPHREY GREDDON, in the Duke's place, would +have taken a pinch of snuff. But he could not +have made that gesture with a finer air than the +Duke gave to its modern equivalent. In the art +of taking and lighting a cigarette, there was one +man who had no rival in Europe. This time he +outdid even himself. + "Ah," you say, "but 'pluck' is one thing, en- +durance another. A man who doesn't reel on +receipt of his death-warrant may yet break down +when he has had time to think it over. How did +the Duke acquit himself when he came to the end +of his cigarette? And by the way, how was it that +after he had read the telegram you didn't give +him again an hour's grace?" + In a way, you have a perfect right to ask both +those questions. But their very pertinence shows +that you think I might omit things that matter. +Please don't interrupt me again. Am <i>I</i> writing +this history, or are you? + Though the news that he must die was a yet +sharper douche, as you have suggested, than the +douche inflicted by Zuleika, it did at least leave +unscathed the Duke's pride. The gods can make + +226 + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 227 + +a man ridiculous through a woman, but they can- +not make him ridiculous when they deal him a +blow direct. The very greatness of their power +makes them, in that respect, impotent. They had +decreed that the Duke should die, and they had +told him so. There was nothing to demean him +in that. True, he had just measured himself +against them. But there was no shame in being +gravelled. The peripety was according to the +best rules of tragic art. The whole thing was +in the grand manner. + Thus I felt that there were no indelicacy, this +time, in watching him. Just as "pluck" comes +of breeding, so is endurance especially an attribute +of the artist. Because he can stand outside him- +self, and (if there be nothing ignoble in them) +take a pleasure in his own sufferings, the artist +has a huge advantage over you and me. The +Duke, so soon as Zuleika's spell was broken, had +become himself again -- a highly self-conscious +artist in life. And now, standing pensive on the +doorstep, he was almost enviable in his great +affliction. + Through the wreaths of smoke which, as they +came from his lips, hung in the sultry air as they +would have hung in a closed room, he gazed up +at the steadfast thunder-clouds. How nobly they +had been massed for him! One of them, a par- +ticularly large and dark one, might with advan- +tage, he thought, have been placed a little further + + +228 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +to the left. He made a gesture to that effect. +Instantly the cloud rolled into position. The gods +were painfully anxious, now, to humour him in +trifles. His behaviour in the great emergency +had so impressed them at a distance that they +rather dreaded meeting him anon at close quar- +ters. They rather wished they had not uncaged, +last night, the two black owls. Too late. What +they had done they had done. + That faint monotonous sound in the stillness of +the night -- the Duke remembered it now. What +he had thought to be only his fancy had been his +death-knell, wafted to him along uncharted waves +of ether, from the battlements of Tankerton. It +had ceased at daybreak. He wondered now that +he had not guessed its meaning. And he was +glad that he had not. He was thankful for the +peace that had been granted to him, the joyous +arrogance in which he had gone to bed and got +up for breakfast. He valued these mercies the +more for the great tragic irony that came of +them. Aye, and he was inclined to blame the +gods for not having kept him still longer in the +dark and so made the irony still more awful. +Why had they not caused the telegram to be de- +layed in transmission? They ought to have let +him go and riddle Zuleika with his scorn and his +indifference. They ought to have let him hurl +through her his defiance of them. Art aside, they +need not have grudged him that excursion. + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 229 + + He could not, he told himself, face Zuleika +now. As artist, he saw that there was irony +enough left over to make the meeting a fine one. +As theologian, he did not hold her responsible for +his destiny. But as a man, after what she had +done to him last night, and before what he had to +do for her to-day, he would not go out of his way +to meet her. Of course, he would not actually +avoid her. To seem to run away from her were +beneath his dignity. But, if he did meet her, what +in heaven's name should he say to her? He re- +membered his promise to lunch with The Mac- +Quern, and shuddered. She would be there. +Death, as he had said, cancelled all engagements. +A very simple way out of the difficulty would be +to go straight to the river. No, that would be +like running away. It couldn't be done. + Hardly had he rejected the notion when he had +a glimpse of a female figure coming quickly round +the corner -- a glimpse that sent him walking +quickly away, across the road, towards Turl +Street, blushing violently. Had she seen him? he +asked himself. And had she seen that he saw +her? He heard her running after him. He did +not look round, he quickened his pace. She was +gaining on him. Involuntarily, he ran -- ran like +a hare, and, at the corner of Turl Street, rose like +a trout, saw the pavement rise at him, and fell, +with a bang, prone. + Let it be said at once that in this matter the + + +230 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +gods were absolutely blameless. It is true they +had decreed that a piece of orange-peel should be +thrown down this morning at the corner of Turl +Street. But the Master of Balliol, not the Duke, +was the person they had destined to slip on it. +You must not imagine that they think out and +appoint everything that is to befall us, down to +the smallest detail. Generally, they just draw a +sort of broad outline, and leave us to fill it in +according to our taste. Thus, in the matters of +which this book is record, it was they who made +the Warden invite his grand-daughter to Oxford, +and invite the Duke to meet her on the evening +of her arrival. And it was they who prompted +the Duke to die for her on the following (Tues- +day) afternoon. They had intended that he +should execute his resolve after, or before, the +boat-race of that evening. But an oversight up- +set this plan. They had forgotten on Monday +night to uncage the two black owls; and so it was +necessary that the Duke's death should be post- +poned. They accordingly prompted Zuleika to +save him. For the rest, they let the tragedy run +its own course -- merely putting in a felicitous +touch here and there, or vetoing a superfluity, +such as that Katie should open Zuleika's letter. +It was no part of their scheme that the Duke +should mistake Mélisande for her mistress, or +that he should run away from her, and they were +genuinely sorry when he, instead of the Master + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 231 + +of Balliol, came to grief over the orange-peel. + Them, however, the Duke cursed as he fell; +them again as he raised himself on one elbow, +giddy and sore; and when he found that the +woman bending over him was not she whom he +dreaded, but her innocent maid, it was against +them that he almost foamed at the mouth. + "Monsieur le Due has done himself harm -- +no?" panted Mélisande. "Here is a letter from +Miss Dobson's part. She say to me 'Give it him +with your own hand.'" + The Duke received the letter and, sitting up- +right, tore it to shreds, thus confirming a sus- +picion which Mélisande had conceived at the +moment when he took to his heels, that all Eng- +lish noblemen are mad, but mad, and of a mad- +ness. + "Nom de Dieu," she cried, wringing her hands, +"what shall I tell to Mademoiselle?" + "Tell her --" the Duke choked back a phrase +of which the memory would have shamed his last +hours. "Tell her," he substituted, "that you have +seen Marius sitting among the ruins of Carthage," +and limped quickly away down the Turl. + Both his hands had been abraded by the fall. +He tended them angrily with his handkerchief. +Mr. Druce, the chemist, had anon the privilege of +bathing and plastering them, also of balming and +binding the right knee and the left shin. "Might +have been a very nasty accident, your Grace," he + + +232 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +said. "It was," said the Duke. Mr. Druce con- +curred. + Nevertheless, Mr. Druce's remark sank deep. +The Duke thought it quite likely that the gods +had intended the accident to be fatal, and that +only by his own skill and lightness in falling had +he escaped the ignominy of dying in full flight +from a lady's-maid. He had not, you see, lost all +sense of free-will. While Mr. Druce put the fin- +ishing touches to his shin, "I am utterly pur- +posed," he said to himself, "that for this death of +mine I will choose my own manner and my own -- +well, not 'time' exactly, but whatever moment +within my brief span of life shall seem aptest to +me. <i>Unberufen</i>," he added, lightly tapping Mr. +Druce's counter. + The sight of some bottles of Cold Mixture on +that hospitable board reminded him of a painful +fact. In the clash of the morning's excitements, +he had hardly felt the gross ailment that was on +him. He became fully conscious of it now, and +there leapt in him a hideous doubt: had he es- +caped a violent death only to succumb to "natural +causes"? He had never hitherto had anything +the matter with him, and thus he belonged to the +worst, the most apprehensive, class of patients. +He knew that a cold, were it neglected, might turn +malignant; and he had a vision of himself gripped +suddenly in the street by internal agonies -- a sym- +pathetic crowd, an ambulance, his darkened bed- + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 233 + +room; local doctor making hopelessly wrong +diagnosis; eminent specialists served up hot by +special train, commending local doctor's treat- +ment, but shaking their heads and refusing to say +more than "He has youth on his side"; a slight +rally at sunset; the end. All this flashed through +his mind. He quailed. There was not a moment +to lose. He frankly confessed to Mr. Druce +that he had a cold. + Mr. Druce, trying to insinuate by his manner +that this fact had not been obvious, suggested the +Mixture -- a teaspoonful every two hours. "Give +me some now, please, at once," said the Duke. + He felt magically better for the draught. He +handled the little glass lovingly, and eyed the bot- +tle. "Why not two teaspoonfuls every hour?" he +suggested, with an eagerness almost dipsomani- +acal. But Mr. Druce was respectfully firm against +that. The Duke yielded. He fancied, indeed, that +the gods had meant him to die of an overdose. + Still, he had a craving for more. Few though +his hours were, he hoped the next two would pass +quickly. And, though he knew Mr. Druce could +be trusted to send the bottle round to his rooms +immediately, he preferred to carry it away with +him. He slipped it into the breast-pocket of his +coat, almost heedless of the slight extrusion it +made there. + Just as he was about to cross the High again, +on his way home, a butcher's cart dashed down + + +234 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +the slope, recklessly driven. He stepped well +back on the pavement, and smiled a sardonic +smile. He looked to right and to left, carefully +gauging the traffic. Some time elapsed before he +deemed the road clear enough for transit. + Safely across, he encountered a figure that +seemed to loom up out of the dim past. Oover! +Was it but yesternight that Oover dined with +him? With the sensation of a man groping +among archives, he began to apologise to the +Rhodes Scholar for having left him so abruptly +at the Junta. Then, presto! -- as though those +musty archives were changed to a crisp morning +paper agog with terrific head-lines -- he remem- +bered the awful resolve of Oover, and of all +young Oxford. + "Of course," he asked, with a lightness that +hardly hid his dread of the answer, "you have +dismissed the notion you were toying with when +I left you?" + Oover's face, like his nature, was as sensitive +as it was massive, and it instantly expressed his +pain at the doubt cast on his high seriousness. +"Duke," he asked, "d'you take me for a skunk?" +"Without pretending to be quite sure what a +skunk is," said the Duke, "I take you to be all +that it isn't. And the high esteem in which I +hold you is the measure for me of the loss that +your death would be to America and to Oxford." + Oover blushed. "Duke" he said "that's a + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 235 + +bully testimonial. But don't worry. America can +turn out millions just like me, and Oxford can +have as many of them as she can hold. On the +other hand, how many of <i>you</i> can be turned out, +as per sample, in England? Yet you choose to +destroy yourself. You avail yourself of the Un- +written Law. And you're right, Sir. Love +transcends all." + "But does it? What if I told you I had changed +my mind?" + "Then, Duke," said Oover, slowly, "I should +believe that all those yarns I used to hear about +the British aristocracy were true, after all. I +should aver that you were not a white man. Lead- +ing us on like that, and then -- Say, Duke! Are +you going to die to-day, or not?" + "As a matter of fact, I am, but --" + "Shake!" + "But --" + Oover wrung the Duke's hand, and was passing +on. "Stay!" he was adjured. + "Sorry, unable. It's just turning eleven o'clock, +and I've a lecture. While life lasts, I'm bound to +respect Rhodes' intentions." The conscientious +Scholar hurried away. + The Duke wandered down the High, taking +counsel with himself. He was ashamed of having +so utterly forgotten the mischief he had wrought +at large. At dawn he had vowed to undo it. +Undo it he must. But the task was not a simple + + +236 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +one now. If he could say "Behold, I take back +my word. I spurn Miss Dobson, and embrace +life," it was possible that his example would +suffice. But now that he could only say "Behold, +I spurn Miss Dobson, and will not die for her, +but I am going to commit suicide, all the same," +it was clear that his words would carry very little +force. Also, he saw with pain that they placed +him in a somewhat ludicrous position. His end, +as designed yesterday, had a large and simple +grandeur. So had his recantation of it. But this +new compromise between the two things had a +fumbled, a feeble, an ignoble look. It seemed +to combine all the disadvantages of both courses. +It stained his honour without prolonging his life. +Surely, this was a high price to pay for snubbing +Zuleika. . . Yes, he must revert without more +ado to his first scheme. He must die in the man- +ner that he had blazoned forth. And he must +do it with a good grace, none knowing he was not +glad; else the action lost all dignity. True, this +was no way to be a saviour. But only by not +dying at all could he have set a really potent ex- +ample. . . . He remembered the look that had +come into Oover's eyes just now at the notion of +his unfaith. Perhaps he would have been the +mock, not the saviour, of Oxford. Better dis- +honour than death, maybe. But, since die he +must, he must die not belittling or tarnishing the +name of Tanville-Tankerton. + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 237 + + Within these bounds, however, he must put +forth his full might to avert the general catas- +trophe -- and to punish Zuleika nearly well enough, +after all, by intercepting that vast nosegay from +her outstretched hands and her distended nostrils. +There was no time to be lost, then. But he won- +dered, as he paced the grand curve between St. +Mary's and Magdalen Bridge, just how was he +to begin? + Down the flight of steps from Queen's came +lounging an average undergraduate. + "Mr. Smith," said the Duke, "a word with +you." + "But my name is not Smith,"said the young man. + "Generically it is," replied the Duke. "You +are Smith to all intents and purposes. That, +indeed, is why I address you. In making your +acquaintance, I make a thousand acquaintances. +You are a short cut to knowledge. Tell me, do +you seriously think of drowning yourself this +afternoon?" + "Rather," said the undergraduate. + "A meiosis in common use, equivalent to 'Yes, +assuredly,'" murmured the Duke. "And why," +he then asked, "do you mean to do this?" + "Why? How can you ask? Why are <i>you</i> +going to do it?" + "The Socratic manner is not a game at which +two can play. Please answer my question, to the +best of your ability." + + +238 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + "Well, because I can't live without her. Be- +cause I want to prove my love for her. Be- +cause --" + "One reason at a time please," said the Duke, +holding up his hand. "You can't live without +her? Then I am to assume that you look forward +to dying?" + "Rather." + "You are truly happy in that prospect?" + "Yes. Rather." + "Now, suppose I showed you two pieces of +equally fine amber -- a big one and a little one. +Which of these would you rather possess?" + "The big one, I suppose." + "And this because it is better to have more +than to have less of a good thing?" + "Just so." + "Do you consider happiness a good thing or a +bad one?" + "A good one." + "So that a man would rather have more than +less of happiness?" + "Undoubtedly." + "Then does it not seem to you that you would +do well to postpone your suicide indefinitely?" + "But I have just said I can't live without her." + "You have still more recently declared yourself +truly happy." + "Yes, but --" + "Now, be careful, Mr. Smith. Remember, this + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 239 + +is a matter of life and death. Try to do yourself +justice. I have asked you --" + But the undergraduate was walking away, not +without a certain dignity. + The Duke felt that he had not handled his +man skilfully. He remembered that even Socrates, +for all the popular charm of his mock-modesty +and his true geniality, had ceased after a while +to be tolerable. Without such a manner to grace +his method, Socrates would have had a very brief +time indeed. The Duke recoiled from what he +took to be another pitfall. He almost smelt +hemlock. + A party of four undergraduates abreast was +approaching. How should he address them? His +choice wavered between the evangelic wistfulness +of "Are you saved?" and the breeziness of the +recruiting sergeant's "Come, you're fine upstand- +ing young fellows. Isn't it a pity," etc. Mean- +while, the quartet had passed by. + Two other undergraduates approached. The +Duke asked them simply as a personal favour to +himself not to throw away their lives. They said +they were very sorry, but in this particular matter +they must please themselves. In vain he pled. +They admitted that but for his example they +would never have thought of dying. They wished +they could show him their gratitude in any way +but the one which would rob them of it. + The Duke drifted further down the High, be- + + +240 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +speaking every undergraduate he met, leaving un- +tried no argument, no inducement. For one man, +whose name he happened to know, he invented +an urgent personal message from Miss Dobson +imploring him not to die on her account. On +another man he offered to settle by hasty codicil +a sum of money sufficient to yield an annual in- +come of two thousand pounds -- three thousand -- +any sum within reason. With another he offered +to walk, arm in arm, to Carfax and back again. +All to no avail. + He found himself in the precincts of Mag- +dalen, preaching from the little open-air pulpit +there an impassioned sermon on the sacredness +of human life, and referring to Zuleika in terms +which John Knox would have hesitated to utter. +As he piled up the invective, he noticed an omi- +nous restiveness in the congregation -- murmurs, +clenching of hands, dark looks. He saw the pul- +pit as yet another trap laid for him by the gods. +He had walked straight into it: another moment, +and he might be dragged down, overwhelmed by +numbers, torn limb from limb. All that was in +him of quelling power he put hastily into his eyes, +and manœuvred his tongue to gentler discourse, +deprecating his right to judge "this lady," and +merely pointing the marvel, the awful though +noble folly, of his resolve. He ended on a note +of quiet pathos. "To-night I shall be among the +shades. There be not you, my brothers." + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 241 + + Good though the sermon was in style and senti- +ment, the flaw in its reasoning was too patent for +any converts to be made. As he walked out of +the quadrangle, the Duke felt the hopelessness of +his cause. Still he battled bravely for it up the +High, waylaying, cajoling, commanding, offering +vast bribes. He carried his crusade into the +Loder, and thence into Vincent's, and out into the +street again, eager, untiring, unavailing: every- +where he found his precept checkmated by his +example. + The sight of The MacQuern coming out top- +speed from the Market, with a large but inex- +pensive bunch of flowers, reminded him of the +luncheon that was to be. Never to throw over +an engagement was for him, as we have seen, a +point of honour. But this particular engagement +-- hateful, when he accepted it, by reason of his +love -- was now impossible for the reason which +had made him take so ignominiously to his heels +this morning. He curtly told the Scot not to +expect him. + "Is <i>she</i> not coming?" gasped the Scot, with +quick suspicion. + "Oh," said the Duke, turning on his heel, +"she doesn't know that I shan't be there. You +may count on her." This he took to be the very +truth, and he was glad to have made of it a +thrust at the man who had so uncouthly asserted +himself last night. He could not help smiling, + + +242 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +though, at this little resentment erect after the +cataclysm that had swept away all else. Then he +smiled to think how uneasy Zuleika would be +at his absence. What agonies of suspense she +must have had all this morning! He imagined +her silent at the luncheon, with a vacant gaze at +the door, eating nothing at all. And he became +aware that he was rather hungry. He had done +all he could to save young Oxford. Now for +some sandwiches! He went into the Junta. + As he rang the dining-room bell, his eyes rested +on the miniature of Nellie O'Mora. And the eyes +of Nellie O'Mora seemed to meet his in re- +proach. Just as she may have gazed at Greddon +when he cast her off, so now did she gaze at him +who a few hours ago had refused to honour her +memory. + Yes, and many other eyes than hers rebuked +him. It was around the walls of this room that +hung those presentments of the Junta as fo- +cussed, year after year, in a certain corner of +Tom Quad, by Messrs. Hills and Saunders. All +around, the members of the little hierarchy, a +hierarchy ever changing in all but youth and a +certain sternness of aspect that comes at the mo- +ment of being immortalised, were gazing forth +now with a sternness beyond their wont. Not one +of them but had in his day handed on loyally +the praise of Nellie O'Mora, in the form their +Founder had ordained. And the Duke's revolt + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 243 + +last night had so incensed them that they would, +if they could, have come down from their frames +and walked straight out of the club, in chrono- +logical order -- first, the men of the 'sixties, almost +as near in time to Greddon as to the Duke, all so +gloriously be-whiskered and cravated, but how +faded now, alas, by exposure; and last of all in +the procession and angrier perhaps than any of +them, the Duke himself -- the Duke of a year ago, +President and sole Member. + But, as he gazed into the eyes of Nellie +O'Mora now, Dorset needed not for penitence +the reproaches of his past self or of his fore- +runners. "Sweet girl," he murmured, "forgive +me. I was mad. I was under the sway of a +deplorable infatuation. It is past. See," he +murmured with a delicacy of feeling that justi- +fied the untruth, "I am come here for the express +purpose of undoing my impiety." And, turning +to the club-waiter who at this moment answered +the bell, he said "Bring me a glass of port, please, +Barrett." Of sandwiches he said nothing. + At the word "See" he had stretched one hand +towards Nellie; the other he had laid on his heart, +where it seemed to encounter some sort of hard +obstruction. This he vaguely fingered, wonder- +ing what it might be, while he gave his order to +Barrett. With a sudden cry he dipped his hand +into his breast-pocket and drew forth the bottle +he had borne away from Mr. Druce's. He + + +244 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +snatched out his watch: one o'clock! -- fifteen +minutes overdue. Wildly he called the waiter +back. "A tea-spoon, quick! No port. A wine- +glass and a tea-spoon. And -- for I don't mind +telling you, Barrett, that your mission is of an +urgency beyond conjecture -- take lightning for +your model. Go!" + Agitation mastered him. He tried vainly to +feel his pulse, well knowing that if he found it he +could deduce nothing from its action. He saw +himself haggard in the looking-glass. Would +Barrett never come? "Every two hours" -- the +directions were explicit. Had he delivered him- +self into the gods' hands? The eyes of Nellie +O'Mora were on him compassionately; and all +the eyes of his forerunners were on him in austere +scorn: "See," they seemed to be saying, "the +chastisement of last night's blasphemy." Vio- +lently, insistently, he rang the bell. + In rushed Barrett at last. From the tea-spoon +into the wine-glass the Duke poured the draught +of salvation, and then, raising it aloft, he looked +around at his fore-runners and in a firm voice +cried "Gentlemen, I give you Nellie O'Mora, the +fairest witch that ever was or will be." He +drained his glass, heaved the deep sigh of a +double satisfaction, dismissed with a glance the +wondering Barrett, and sat down. + He was glad to be able to face Nellie with a +clear conscience. Her eyes were not less sad now, + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 245 + +but it seemed to him that their sadness came of +a knowledge that she would never see him again. +She seemed to be saying to him "Had you lived +in my day, it is you that I would have loved, not +Greddon." And he made silent answer, "Had +you lived in my day, I should have been Dobson- +proof." He realised, however, that to Zuleika he +owed the tenderness he now felt for Miss +O'Mora. It was Zuleika that had cured him of +his aseity. She it was that had made his heart +a warm and negotiable thing. Yes, and that was +the final cruelty. To love and be loved -- this, he +had come to know, was all that mattered. Yes- +terday, to love and die had seemed felicity enough. +Now he knew that the secret, the open secret, of +happiness was in mutual love -- a state that needed +not the fillip of death. And he had to die with- +out having ever lived. Admiration, homage, fear, +he had sown broadcast. The one woman who +had loved him had turned to stone because he +loved her. Death would lose much of its sting +for him if there were somewhere in the world +just one woman, however lowly, whose heart +would be broken by his dying. What a pity Nellie +O'Mora was not really extant! + Suddenly he recalled certain words lightly +spoken yesterday by Zuleika. She had told him +he was loved by the girl who waited on him -- the +daughter of his landlady. Was this so? He had +seen no sign of it, had received no token of it. + + +246 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +But, after all, how should he have seen a sign of +anything in one whom he had never consciously +visualised? That she had never thrust herself +on his notice might mean merely that she had been +well brought-up. What likelier than that the +daughter of Mrs. Batch, that worthy soul, had +been well brought up? + Here, at any rate, was the chance of a new +element in his life, or rather in his death. Here, +possibly, was a maiden to mourn him. He would +lunch in his rooms. + With a farewell look at Nellie's miniature, he +took the medicine-bottle from the table, and went +quickly out. The heavens had grown steadily +darker and darker, the air more sulphurous and +baleful. And the High had a strangely woebe- +gone look, being all forsaken by youth, in this +hour of luncheon. Even so would its look be all +to-morrow, thought the Duke, and for many mor- +rows. Well he had done what he could. He +was free now to brighten a little his own last +hours. He hastened on, eager to see the land- +lady's daughter. He wondered what she was like, +and whether she really loved him. + As he threw open the door of his sitting-room, +he was aware of a rustle, a rush, a cry. In an- +other instant, he was aware of Zuleika Dobson +at his feet, at his knees, clasping him to her, sob- +bing, laughing, sobbing. + + +XVI + +FOR what happened a few moments later you +must not blame him. Some measure of force was +the only way out of an impossible situation. It +was in vain that he commanded the young lady +to let go: she did but cling the closer. It was +in vain that he tried to disentangle himself of +her by standing first on one foot, then on the +other, and veering sharply on his heel: she did +but sway as though hinged to him. He had no +choice but to grasp her by the wrists, cast her +aside, and step clear of her into the room. + Her hat, gauzily basking with a pair of long +white gloves on one of his arm-chairs, proclaimed +that she had come to stay. + Nor did she rise. Propped on one elbow, with +heaving bosom and parted lips, she seemed to be +trying to realise what had been done to her. +Through her undried tears her eyes shone up to +him. + He asked: "To what am I indebted for this +visit?" + "Ah, say that again!" she murmured. "Your +voice is music." + He repeated his question. + +247 + + +248 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + "Music!" she said dreamily; and such is the +force of habit that "I don't," she added, "know +anything about music, really. But I know what +I like." + "Had you not better get up from the floor?" +he said. "The door is open, and any one who +passed might see you." + Softly she stroked the carpet with the palms +of her hands. "Happy carpet!" she crooned. +"Aye, happy the very women that wove the +threads that are trod by the feet of my beloved +master. But hark! he bids his slave rise and +stand before him!" + Just after she had risen, a figure appeared in +the doorway. + "I beg pardon, your Grace; Mother wants to +know, will you be lunching in?" + "Yes," said the Duke. "I will ring when I am +ready." And it dawned on him that this girl, who +perhaps loved him, was, according to all known +standards, extraordinarily pretty. + "Will --" she hesitated, "will Miss Dobson +be --" + "No," he said. "I shall be alone." And there +was in the girl's parting half-glance at Zuleika +that which told him he was truly loved, and made +him the more impatient of his offensive and ac- +cursed visitor. + "You want to be rid of me?" asked Zuleika, +when the girl was gone. + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 249 + + "I have no wish to be rude; but -- since you +force me to say it -- yes." + "Then take me," she cried, throwing back her +arms, "and throw me out of the window." + He smiled coldly. + "You think I don't mean it? You think I would +struggle? Try me." She let herself droop side- +ways, in an attitude limp and portable. "Try +me," she repeated. + "All this is very well conceived, no doubt," +said he, "and well executed. But it happens to +he otiose." + What do you mean?" + "I mean you may set your mind at rest. I am +not going to back out of my promise." + Zuleika flushed. "You are cruel. I would give +the world and all not to have written you that +hateful letter. Forget it, forget it, for pity's sake!" + The Duke looked searchingly at her. "You +mean that you now wish to release me from my +promise?" + "Release you? As if you were ever bound! +Don't torture me!" + He wondered what deep game she was playing. +Very real, though, her anguish seemed; and, if +real it was, then -- he stared, he gasped -- there +could be but one explanation. He put it to her. +"You love me?" + "With all my soul." + His heart leapt. If she spoke truth, then in- + + +250 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +deed vengeance was his! But "What proof have +I?" he asked her. + "Proof? Have men absolutely <i>no</i> intuition? +If you need proof, produce it. Where are my +ear-rings?" + "Your ear-rings? Why?" + Impatiently she pointed to two white pearls +that fastened the front of her blouse. "These +are your studs. It was from them I had the great +first hint this morning." + "Black and pink, were they not, when you took +them?" + "Of course. And then I forgot that I had +them. When I undressed, they must have rolled +on to the carpet. Mélisande found them this +morning when she was making the room ready +for me to dress. That was just after she came +back from bringing you my first letter. I was +bewildered. I doubted. Might not the pearls +have gone back to their natural state simply +through being yours no more? That is why I +wrote again to you, my own darling -- a frantic +little questioning letter. When I heard how you +had torn it up, I knew, I knew that the pearls had +not mocked me. I telescoped my toilet and came +rushing round to you. How many hours have +I been waiting for you?" + The Duke had drawn her ear-rings from his +waistcoat pocket, and was contemplating them in +the palm of his hand. Blanched, both of them, + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 251 + +yes. He laid them on the table. "Take them," +he said. + "No," she shuddered. "I could never forget +that once they were both black." She flung them +into the fender. "Oh John," she cried, turning +to him and falling again to her knees, "I do so +want to forget what I have been. I want to atone. +You think you can drive me out of your life. You +cannot, darling -- since you won't kill me. Always +I shall follow you on my knees, thus." + He looked down at her over his folded arms, + "I am not going to back out of my promise," he +repeated. + She stopped her ears. + With a stern joy he unfolded his arms, took +some papers from his breast-pocket, and, selecting +one of them, handed it to her. It was the telegram +sent by his steward. + She read it. With a stern joy he watched her +reading it. + Wild-eyed, she looked up from it to him, tried +to speak, and swerved down senseless. + He had not foreseen this. "Help!" he vaguely +cried -- was she not a fellow-creature? -- and +rushed blindly out to his bedroom, whence he +returned, a moment later, with the water-jug. He +dipped his hand, and sprinkled the upturned face +(Dew-drops on a white rose? But some other, +sharper analogy hovered to him). He dipped +and sprinkled. The water-beads broke, mingled + + +252 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +-- rivulets now. He dipped and flung, then caught +the horrible analogy and rebounded. + It was at this moment that Zuleika opened her +eyes. "Where am I?" She weakly raised her- +self on one elbow; and the suspension of the +Duke's hatred would have been repealed simul- +taneously with that of her consciousness, had it +not already been repealed by the analogy. She +put a hand to her face, then looked at the wet +palm wonderingly, looked at the Duke, saw the +water-jug beside him. She, too, it seemed, had +caught the analogy; for with a wan smile she said +"We are quits now, John, aren't we?" + Her poor little jest drew to the Duke's face no +answering smile, did but make hotter the blush +there. The wave of her returning memory swept +on -- swept up to her with a roar the instant past. +"Oh," she cried, staggering to her feet, "the owls, +the owls!" + Vengeance was his, and "Yes, there," he said, +"is the ineluctable hard fact you wake to. The +owls have hooted. The gods have spoken. This +day your wish is to be fulfilled." + "The owls have hooted. The gods have +spoken. This day -- oh, it must not be, John! +Heaven have mercy on me!" + "The unerring owls have hooted. The dis- +piteous and humorous gods have spoken. Miss +Dobson, it has to be. And let me remind you," +he added, with a glance at his watch, "that you + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 253 + +ought not to keep The MacQuern waiting for +luncheon." + "That is unworthy of you," she said. There +was in her eyes a look that made the words sound +as if they had been spoken by a dumb animal. + "You have sent him an excuse?" + "No, I have forgotten him." + "That is unworthy of you. After all, he is +going to die for you, like the rest of us. I am but +one of a number, you know. Use your sense of +proportion." + "If I do that," she said after a pause, "you +may not be pleased by the issue. I may find that +whereas yesterday I was great in my sinfulness, +and to-day am great in my love, you, in your hate +of me, are small. I may find that what I had +taken to be a great indifference is nothing but a +very small hate. . . Ah, I have wounded you? +Forgive me, a weak woman, talking at random in +her wretchedness. Oh John, John, if I thought +you small, my love would but take on the crown +of pity. Don't forbid me to call you John. I +looked you up in Debrett while I was waiting for +you. That seemed to bring you nearer to me. So +many other names you have, too. I remember +you told me them all yesterday, here in this room +-- not twenty-four hours ago. Hours? Years!" +She laughed hysterically. "John, don't you see +why I won't stop talking? It's because I dare +not think." + + +254 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + "Yonder in Balliol," he suavely said, "you will +find the matter of my death easier to forget than +here." He took her hat and gloves from the +arm-chair, and held them carefully out to her; +but she did not take them. + "I give you three minutes," he told her. "Two +minutes, that is, in which to make yourself tidy +before the mirror. A third in which to say good- +bye and be outside the front-door." + "If I refuse?" + "You will not." + "If I do?" + "I shall send for a policeman." + She looked well at him. "Yes," she slowly +said, "I think you would do that." + She took her things from him, and laid them +by the mirror. With a high hand she quelled the +excesses of her hair -- some of the curls still +agleam with water -- and knowingly poised and +pinned her hat. Then, after a few swift touches +and passes at neck and waist, she took her gloves +and, wheeling round to him, "There!" she said, +"I have been quick." + "Admirably," he allowed. + "Quick in more than meets the eye, John. +Spiritually quick. You saw me putting on my +hat; you did not see love taking on the crown of +pity, and me bonneting her with it, tripping her +up and trampling the life out of her. Oh, a most +cold-blooded business, John! Had to be done, + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 255 + +though. No other way out. So I just used my +sense of proportion, as you rashly bade me, and +then hardened my heart at sight of you as you +are. One of a number? Yes, and a quite un- +lovable unit. So I am all right again. And now, +where is Balliol? Far from here?" + "No," he answered, choking a little, as might +a card-player who, having been dealt a splendid +hand, and having played it with flawless skill, has +yet -- damn it! -- lost the odd trick. "Balliol is +quite near. At the end of this street in fact. I +can show it to you from the front-door." + Yes, he had controlled himself. But this, he +furiously felt, did not make him look the less a +fool. What ought he to have <i>said?</i> He prayed, +as he followed the victorious young woman down- +stairs, that <i>l'esprit de l'escalier</i> might befall him. +Alas, it did not. + "By the way," she said, when he had shown +her where Balliol lay, "have you told anybody +that you aren't dying just for me?" + "No," he answered, "I have preferred not to." + "Then officially, as it were, and in the eyes of +the world, you die for me? Then all's well that +ends well. Shall we say good-bye here? I shall +be on the Judas Barge; but I suppose there will +be a crush, as yesterday?" + "Sure to be. There always is on the last night +of the Eights, you know. Good-bye." + "Good-bye, little John -- small John," she cried +across her shoulder, having the last word. + + +XVII + +HE might not have grudged her the last word, +had she properly needed it. Its utter superfluity -- +the perfection of her victory without it -- was +what galled him. Yes, she had outflanked him, +taken him unawares, and he had fired not one +shot. <i>Esprit de l'escalier</i> -- it was as he went up- +stairs that he saw how he might yet have snatched +from her, if not the victory, the palm. Of course +he ought to have laughed aloud -- "Capital, +capital! You really do deserve to fool me. But +ah, yours is a love that can't be dissembled. +Never was man by maiden loved more ardently +than I by you, my poor girl, at this moment." + And stay! -- what if she really <i>had</i> been but +pretending to have killed her love? He paused +on the threshold of his room. The sudden doubt +made his lost chance the more sickening. Yet +was the doubt dear to him . . . What likelier, +after all, than that she had been pretending? She +had already twitted him with his lack of intuition. +He had not seen that she loved him when she +certainly did love him. He had needed the pearls' +demonstration of that. -- The pearls! <i>They</i> +would betray her. He darted to the fender, and + +256 + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 257 + +one of them he espied there instantly -- white? +A rather flushed white, certainly. For the other +he had to peer down. There it lay, not very dis- +tinct on the hearth's black-leading. + He turned away. He blamed himself for not +dismissing from his mind the hussy he had dis- +missed from his room. Oh for an ounce of civet +and a few poppies! The water-jug stood as a +reminder of the hateful visit and of . . . He +took it hastily away into his bedroom. There he +washed his hands. The fact that he had touched +Zuleika gave to this ablution a symbolism that +made it the more refreshing. + Civet, poppies? Was there not, at his call, a +sweeter perfume, a stronger anodyne? He rang +the bell, almost caressingly. + His heart beat at sound of the clinking and +rattling of the tray borne up the stairs. She was +coming, the girl who loved him, the girl whose +heart would be broken when he died. Yet, when +the tray appeared in the doorway, and she behind +it, the tray took precedence of her in his soul not +less than in his sight. Twice, after an arduous +morning, had his luncheon been postponed, and +the coming of it now made intolerable the pangs +of his hunger. + Also, while the girl laid the table-cloth, it oc- +curred to him how flimsy, after all, was the evi- +dence that she loved him. Suppose she did noth- +ing of the kind! At the Junta, he had foreseen + + +258 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +no difficulty in asking her. Now he found himself +a prey to embarrassment. He wondered why. +He had not failed in flow of gracious words to +Nellie O'Mora. Well, a miniature by Hoppner +was one thing, a landlady's live daughter was +another. At any rate, he must prime himself +with food. He wished Mrs. Batch had sent up +something more calorific than cold salmon. He +asked her daughter what was to follow. + "There's a pigeon-pie, your Grace." + "Cold? Then please ask your mother to heat +it in the oven -- quickly. Anything after that?" + "A custard pudding, your Grace." + "Cold? Let this, too, be heated. And bring +up a bottle of champagne, please; and -- and a +bottle of port." + His was a head that had always hitherto defied +the grape. But he thought that to-day, by all he +had gone through, by all the shocks he had suf- +fered, and the strains he had steeled himself +to bear, as well as by the actual malady that +gripped him, he might perchance have been sapped +enough to experience by reaction that cordial glow +of which he had now and again seen symptoms in +his fellows. + Nor was he altogether disappointed of this +hope. As the meal progressed, and the last of +the champagne sparkled in his glass, certain things +said to him by Zuleika -- certain implied criticisms +that had rankled, yes -- lost their power to dis- + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 259 + +commode him. He was able to smile at the im- +pertinences of an angry woman, the tantrums of +a tenth-rate conjurer told to go away. He felt +he had perhaps acted harshly. With all her +faults, she had adored him. Yes, he had been +arbitrary. There seemed to be a strain of bru- +tality in his nature. Poor Zuleika! He was glad +for her that she had contrived to master her in- +fatuation . . . Enough for him that he was loved +by this exquisite meek girl who had served him +at the feast. Anon, when he summoned her to +clear the things away, he would bid her tell him +the tale of her lowly passion. He poured a second +glass of port, sipped it, quaffed it, poured a third. +The grey gloom of the weather did but, as he +eyed the bottle, heighten his sense of the rich sun- +shine so long ago imprisoned by the vintner and +now released to make glad his soul. Even so to +be released was the love pent for him in the heart +of this sweet girl. Would that he loved her in +return! . . . Why not? + + "Prius insolentem + Serva Briseis niveo colore + Movit Achillem." + +Nor were it gracious to invite an avowal of love +and offer none in return. Yet, yet, expansive +though his mood was, he could not pretend to +himself that he was about to feel in this girl's +presence anything but gratitude. He might pre- + + +260 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +tend to her? Deception were a very poor return +indeed for all her kindness. Besides, it might +turn her head. Some small token of his gratitude +-- some trinket by which to remember him -- was +all that he could allow himself to offer . . . +What trinket? Would she like to have one of his +scarf-pins? Studs? Still more abs -- Ah! he +had it, he literally and most providentially had it, +there, in the fender: a pair of ear-rings! + He plucked the pink pearl and the black from +where they lay, and rang the bell. + His sense of dramatic propriety needed that +the girl should, before he addressed her, perform +her task of clearing the table. If she had it to +perform after telling her love, and after receiving +his gift and his farewell, the bathos would be +distressing for them both. + But, while he watched her at her task, he did +wish she would be a little quicker. For the glow +in him seemed to be cooling momently. He wished +he had had more than three glasses from the +crusted bottle which she was putting away into +the chiffonier. Down, doubt! Down, sense of +disparity! The moment was at hand. Would he +let it slip? Now she was folding up the table- +cloth, now she was going. + "Stay!" he uttered. "I have something to say +to you." The girl turned to him. + He forced his eyes to meet hers. "I under- +stand," he said in a constrained voice, "that you + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 261 + +regard me with sentiments of something more +than esteem. -- Is this so?" + The girl had stepped quickly back, and her +face was scarlet. + "Nay," he said, having to go through with it +now, "there is no cause for embarrassment. And +I am sure you will acquit me of wanton curiosity. +Is it a fact that you -- love me?" + She tried to speak, could not. But she nodded +her head. + The Duke, much relieved, came nearer to her. + "What is your name?" he asked gently. + "Katie," she was able to gasp. + "Well, Katie, how long have you loved me?" + "Ever since," she faltered, "ever since you came +to engage the rooms." + "You are not, of course, given to idolising any +tenant of your mother's?" + "No." + "May I boast myself the first possessor of your +heart?" + "Yes." She had become very pale now, and +was trembling painfully. + "And may I assume that your love for me has +been entirely disinterested? . . . You do not +catch my meaning? I will put my question in an- +other way. In loving me, you never supposed me +likely to return your love?" + The girl looked up at him quickly, but at once +her eyelids fluttered down again. + + +262 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + "Come, come!" said the Duke. "My question +is a plain one. Did you ever for an instant sup- +pose, Katie, that I might come to love you?" + "No," she said in a whisper; "I never dared +to hope that." + "Precisely," said he. "You never imagined +that you had anything to gain by your affection. +You were not contriving a trap for me. You were +upheld by no hope of becoming a young Duchess, +with more frocks than you could wear and more +dross than you could scatter. I am glad. I am +touched. You are the first woman that has loved +me in that way. Or rather," he muttered, "the +first but one. And she . . . Answer me," he +said, standing over the girl, and speaking with a +great intensity. "If I were to tell you that I loved +you, would you cease to love me?" + "Oh your Grace!" cried the girl. "Why no! +I never dared --" + "Enough!" he said. "The catechism is ended. +I have something which I should like to give you. +Are your ears pierced?" + "Yes, your Grace." + "Then, Katie, honour me by accepting this +present." So saying, he placed in the girl's hand +the black pearl and the pink. The sight of them +banished for a moment all other emotions in their +recipient. She forgot herself. "Lor!" she said. + "I hope you will wear them always for my +sake," said the Duke. + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 263 + + She had expressed herself in the monosyllable. +No words came to her lips, but to her eyes many +tears, through which the pearls were visible. +They whirled in her bewildered brain as a token +that she was loved -- loved by <i>him</i>, though but +yesterday he had loved another. It was all so sud- +den, so beautiful. You might have knocked her +down (she says so to this day) with a feather. +Seeing her agitation, the Duke pointed to a chair, +bade her be seated. + Her mind was cleared by the new posture. +Suspicion crept into it, followed by alarm. She +looked at the ear-rings, then up at the Duke. + "No," said he, misinterpreting the question in +her eyes, "they are real pearls." + "It isn't that," she quavered, "it is -- it is --" + "That they were given to me by Miss Dob- +son?" + "Oh, they were, were they? Then" -- Katie +rose, throwing the pearls on the floor -- "I'll have +nothing to do with them. I hate her." + "So do I," said the Duke, in a burst of confi- +dence. "No, I don't," he added hastily. "Please +forget that I said that." + It occurred to Katie that Miss Dobson would +be ill-pleased that the pearls should pass to her. +She picked them up. + "Only -- only --" again her doubts beset her +and she looked from the pearls to the Duke. + "Speak on," he said. + + +264 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + "Oh you aren't playing with me, are you? You +don't mean me harm, do you? I have been +well brought up. I have been warned against +things. And it seems so strange, what you have +said to me. You are a Duke, and I -- I am +only --" + "It is the privilege of nobility to condescend." + "Yes, yes," she cried. "I see. Oh I was +wicked to doubt you. And love levels all, doesn't +it? love and the Board school. Our stations are +far apart, but I've been educated far above mine. +I've learnt more than most real ladies have. I +passed the Seventh Standard when I was only +just fourteen. I was considered one of the sharp- +est girls in the school. And I've gone on learning +since then," she continued eagerly. "I utilise all +my spare moments. I've read twenty-seven of the +Hundred Best Books. I collect ferns. I play the +piano, whenever . . ." She broke off, for she +remembered that her music was always inter- +rupted by the ringing of the Duke's bell and a +polite request that it should cease. + "I am glad to hear of these accomplishments. +They do you great credit, I am sure. But -- well, +I do not quite see why you enumerate them just +now." + "It isn't that I am vain," she pleaded. "I only +mentioned them because . . . oh, don't you see? +If I'm not ignorant, I shan't disgrace you. People + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 265 + +won't be so able to say you've been and thrown +yourself away." + "Thrown myself away? What do you mean?" + "Oh, they'll make all sorts of objections, I +know. They'll all be against me, and --" + "For heaven's sake, explain yourself." + "Your aunt, she looked a very proud lady -- +very high and hard. I thought so when she came +here last term. But you're of age. You're your +own master. Oh, I trust you; you'll stand by me. +If you love me really you won't listen to them." + "Love you? I? Are you mad?" + Each stared at the other, utterly bewildered. + The girl was the first to break the silence. Her +voice came in a whisper. "You've not been play- +ing a joke on me? You meant what you said, +didn't you?" + "What have I said?" + "You said you loved me." + "You must be dreaming." + "I'm not. Here are the ear-rings you gave +me." She pinched them as material proof. "You +said you loved me just before you gave me them. +You know you did. And if I thought you'd been +laughing at me all the time -- I'd -- I'd" -- a sob +choked her voice -- "I'd throw them in your face!" + "You must not speak to me in that manner," +said the Duke coldly. "And let me warn you +that this attempt to trap me and intimidate +me --" + + +266 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + The girl had flung the ear-rings at his face. +She had missed her mark. But this did not ex- +tenuate the outrageous gesture. He pointed to +the door. "Go!" he said. + "Don't try that on!" she laughed. "I shan't +go -- not unless you drag me out. And if you do +that, I'll raise the house. I'll have in the neigh- +bours. I'll tell them all what you've done, and --" +But defiance melted in the hot shame of humilia- +tion. "Oh, you coward!" she gasped. "You +coward!" She caught her apron to her face and, +swaying against the wall, sobbed piteously. + Unaccustomed to love-affairs, the Duke could +not sail lightly over a flood of woman's tears. He +was filled with pity for the poor quivering figure +against the wall. How should he soothe her? +Mechanically he picked up the two pearls from +the carpet, and crossed to her side. He touched +her on the shoulder. She shuddered away from +him. + "Don't," he said gently. "Don't cry. I can't +bear it. I have been stupid and thoughtless. +What did you say your name was? 'Katie,' to be +sure. Well, Katie, I want to beg your pardon. +I expressed myself badly. I was unhappy and +lonely, and I saw in you a means of comfort. I +snatched at you, Katie, as at a straw. And then, +I suppose, I must have said something which made +you think I loved you. I almost wish I did. I +don't wonder you threw the ear-rings at me. I -- + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 267 + +I almost wish they had hit me. . . You see, +I have quite forgiven you. Now do you forgive +me. You will not refuse now to wear the ear- +rings. I gave them to you as a keepsake. Wear +them always in memory of me. For you will +never see me again." + The girl had ceased from crying, and her anger +had spent itself in sobs. She was gazing at him +woebegone but composed. + "Where are you going?" + "You must not ask that," said he. "Enough +that my wings are spread." + "Are you going because of <i>me</i>?" + "Not in the least. Indeed, your devotion is +one of the things which make bitter my departure. +And yet -- I am glad you love me." + "Don't go," she faltered. He came nearer to +her, and this time she did not shrink from him. +"Don't you find the rooms comfortable?" she +asked, gazing up at him. "Have you ever had +any complaint to make about the attendance?" + "No," said the Duke, "the attendance has al- +ways been quite satisfactory. I have never felt +that so keenly as I do to-day." + "Then why are you leaving? Why are you +breaking my heart?" + "Suffice it that I cannot do otherwise. Hence- +forth you will see me no more. But I doubt not +that in the cultivation of my memory you will +find some sort of lugubrious satisfaction. See! + + +268 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +here are the ear-rings. If you like, I will put them +in with my own hands." + She held up her face side-ways. Into the lobe +of her left ear he insinuated the hook of the black +pearl. On the cheek upturned to him there were +still traces of tears; the eyelashes were still +spangled. For all her blondness, they were quite +dark, these glistening eyelashes. He had an im- +pulse, which he put from him. "Now the other +ear," he said. The girl turned her head. Soon +the pink pearl was in its place. Yet the girl did +not move. She seemed to be waiting. Nor did +the Duke himself seem to be quite satisfied. He +let his fingers dally with the pearl. Anon, with a +sigh, he withdrew them. The girl looked up. +Their eyes met. He looked away from her. He +turned away from her. "You may kiss my hand," +he murmured, extending it towards her. After a +pause, the warm pressure of her lips was laid on +it. He sighed, but did not look round. Another +pause, a longer pause, and then the clatter and +clink of the outgoing tray. + + +XVIII + +HER actual offspring does not suffice a very +motherly woman. Such a woman was Mrs. +Batch. Had she been blest with a dozen children, +she must yet have regarded herself as also a +mother to whatever two young gentlemen were +lodging under her roof. Childless but for Katie +and Clarence, she had for her successive pairs of +tenants a truly vast fund of maternal feeling to +draw on. Nor were the drafts made in secret. +To every gentleman, from the outset, she pro- +claimed the relation in which she would stand to +him. Moreover, always she needed a strong filial +sense in return: this was only fair. + Because the Duke was an orphan, even more +than because he was a Duke, her heart had with +a special rush gone out to him when he and +Mr. Noaks became her tenants. But, perhaps +because he had never known a mother, he was +evidently quite incapable of conceiving either +Mrs. Batch as his mother or himself as her son. +Indeed, there was that in his manner, in his look, +which made her falter, for once, in exposition of +her theory -- made her postpone the matter to + +269 + + +270 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +some more favourable time. That time never +came, somehow. Still, her solicitude for him, her +pride in him, her sense that he was a great credit +to her, rather waxed than waned. He was more +to her (such are the vagaries of the maternal in- +stinct) than Katie or Mr. Noaks: he was as much +as Clarence. + It was, therefore, a deeply agitated woman who +now came heaving up into the Duke's presence. +His Grace was "giving notice"? She was sure +she begged his pardon for coming up so sudden. +But the news was that sudden. Hadn't her girl +made a mistake, maybe? Girls were so vague- +like nowadays. She was sure it was most kind +of him to give those handsome ear-rings. But +the thought of him going off so unexpected -- +middle of term, too -- with never a why or a but! +Well! + In some such welter of homely phrase (how +foreign to these classic pages!) did Mrs. Batch +utter her pain. The Duke answered her tersely +but kindly. He apologised for going so abruptly, +and said he would be very happy to write for her +future use a testimonial to the excellence of her +rooms and of her cooking; and with it he would +give her a cheque not only for the full term's +rent, and for his board since the beginning of +term, but also for such board as he would have +been likely to have in the term's remainder. He +asked her to present her accounts forthwith. + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 271 + + He occupied the few minutes of her absence +by writing the testimonial. It had shaped itself +in his mind as a short ode in Doric Greek. But, +for the benefit of Mrs. Batch, he chose to do a +rough equivalent in English. + +TO AN UNDERGRADUATE NEEDING +ROOMS IN OXFORD + +<i>(A Sonnet in Oxfordshire Dialect)</i> + + Zeek w'ere thee will in t'Univürsity, + Lad, thee'll not vind nôr bread nôr bed that + matches + Them as thee'll vind, roight züre, at Mrs. + Batch's . . . + +I do not quote the poem <i>in extenso</i>, because, +frankly, I think it was one of his least happily- +inspired works. His was not a Muse that could +with a good grace doff the grand manner. Also, +his command of the Oxfordshire dialect seems to +me based less on study than on conjecture. In +fact, I do not place the poem higher than among +the curiosities of literature. It has extrinsic value, +however, as illustrating the Duke's thoughtful- +ness for others in the last hours of his life. And +to Mrs. Batch the MS., framed and glazed in her +hall, is an asset beyond price (witness her recent +refusal of Mr. Pierpont Morgan's sensational +bid for it). + + +272 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + This MS. she received together with the Duke's +cheque. The presentation was made some twenty +minutes after she had laid her accounts before +him. + Lavish in giving large sums of his own accord, +he was apt to be circumspect in the matter of +small payments. Such is ever the way of opulent +men. Nor do I see that we have a right to sneer +at them for it. We cannot deny that their exist- +ence is a temptation to us. It is in our fallen na- +ture to want to get something out of them; and, +as we think in small sums (heaven knows), it is +of small sums that they are careful. Absurd to +suppose they really care about halfpence. It +must, therefore, be about us that they care; and +we ought to be grateful to them for the pains they +are at to keep us guiltless. I do not suggest +that Mrs. Batch had at any point overcharged +the Duke; but how was he to know that she had +not done so, except by checking the items, as was +his wont? The reductions that he made, here and +there, did not in all amount to three-and-sixpence. +I do not say they were just. But I do say that his +motive for making them, and his satisfaction at +having made them, were rather beautiful than +otherwise. + Having struck an average of Mrs. Batch's +weekly charges, and a similar average of his own +reductions, he had a basis on which to reckon his +board for the rest of the term. This amount he + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 273 + +added to Mrs. Batch's amended total, <i>plus</i> the +full term's rent, and accordingly drew a cheque +on the local bank where he had an account. Mrs. +Batch said she would bring up a stamped receipt +directly; but this the Duke waived, saying that +the cashed cheque itself would be a sufficient re- +ceipt. Accordingly, he reduced by one penny the +amount written on the cheque. Remembering to +initial the correction, he remembered also, with +a melancholy smile, that to-morrow the cheque +would not be negotiable. Handing it, and the +sonnet, to Mrs. Batch, he bade her cash it before +the bank closed. "And," he said, "with a glance +at his watch, "you have no time to lose. It is +a quarter to four." Only two hours and a quar- +ter before the final races! How quickly the +sands were running out! + Mrs. Batch paused on the threshold, wanted to +know if she could "help with the packing." The +Duke replied that he was taking nothing with him: +his various things would be sent for, packed, and +removed, within a few days. No, he did not want +her to order a cab. He was going to walk. And +"Good-bye, Mrs. Batch," he said. "For legal +reasons with which I won't burden you, you really +must cash that cheque at once." + He sat down in solitude; and there crept over +him a mood of deep depression . . . Almost two +hours and a quarter before the final races! What +on earth should he do in the meantime? He + + +274 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +seemed to have done all that there was for him +to do. His executors would do the rest. He had +no farewell-letters to write. He had no friends +with whom he was on terms of valediction. There +was nothing at all for him to do. He stared +blankly out of the window, at the greyness and +blackness of the sky. What a day! What a cli- +mate! Why did any sane person live in England? +He felt positively suicidal. + His dully vagrant eye lighted on the bottle of +Cold Mixture. He ought to have dosed himself a +full hour ago. Well, he didn't care. + Had Zuleika noticed the bottle? he idly won- +dered. Probably not. She would have made +some sprightly reference to it before she went. + Since there was nothing to do but sit and think, +he wished he could recapture that mood in which +at luncheon he had been able to see Zuleika as +an object for pity. Never, till to-day, had he seen +things otherwise than they were. Nor had he ever +needed to. Never, till last night, had there been +in his life anything he needed to forget. That +woman! As if it really mattered what she +thought of him. He despised himself for wishing +to forget she despised him. But the wish was the +measure of the need. He eyed the chiffonier. +Should he again solicit the grape? + Reluctantly he uncorked the crusted bottle, and +filled a glass. Was he come to this? He sighed +and sipped, quaffed and sighed. The spell of the + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 275 + +old stored sunshine seemed not to work, this time. +He could not cease from plucking at the net of +ignominies in which his soul lay enmeshed. Would +that he had died yesterday, escaping how much! + Not for an instant did he flinch from the mere +fact of dying to-day. Since he was not immortal, +as he had supposed, it were as well he should +die now as fifty years hence. Better, indeed. To +die "untimely," as men called it, was the timeliest +of all deaths for one who had carved his youth to +greatness. What perfection could he, Dorset, +achieve beyond what was already his? Future +years could but stale, if not actually mar, that +perfection. Yes, it was lucky to perish leaving +much to the imagination of posterity. Dear +posterity was of a sentimental, not a realistic, +habit. She always imagined the dead young hero +prancing gloriously up to the Psalmist's limit a +young hero still; and it was the sense of her vast +loss that kept his memory green. Byron! -- he +would be all forgotten to-day if he had lived to +be a florid old gentleman with iron-grey whiskers, +writing very long, very able letters to "The +Times" about the Repeal of the Corn Laws. Yes, +Byron would have been that. It was indicated in +him. He would have been an old gentleman +exacerbated by Queen Victoria's invincible preju- +dice against him, her brusque refusal to "enter- +tain" Lord John Russell's timid nomination of +him for a post in the Government . . . Shelley + + +276 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +would have been a poet to the last. But how dull, +how very dull, would have been the poetry of his +middle age! -- a great unreadable mass interposed +between him and us . . . Did Byron, mused the +Duke, know what was to be at Missolonghi? +Did he know that he was to die in service of the +Greeks whom he despised? Byron might not have +minded that. But what if the Greeks had told +him, in so many words, that they despised <i>him</i>? +How would he have felt then? Would he have +been content with his potations of barley-water? +. . . The Duke replenished his glass, hoping the +spell might work yet.. . . Perhaps, had Byron not +been a dandy -- but ah, had he not been in his soul +a dandy there would have been no Byron worth +mentioning. And it was because he guarded not +his dandyism against this and that irrelevant pas- +sion, sexual or political, that he cut so annoyingly +incomplete a figure. He was absurd in his poli- +tics, vulgar in his loves. Only in himself, at the +times when he stood haughtily aloof, was he im- +pressive. Nature, fashioning him, had fashioned +also a pedestal for him to stand and brood on, to +pose and sing on. Off that pedestal he was lost. +. . . "The idol has come sliding down from its +pedestal" -- the Duke remembered these words +spoken yesterday by Zuleika. Yes, at the mo- +ment when he slid down, he, too, was lost. For +him, master-dandy, the common arena was no +place. What had he to do with love? He was + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 277 + +an utter fool at it. Byron had at least had some +fun out of it. What fun had <i>he</i> had? Last night, +he had forgotten to kiss Zuleika when he held her +by the wrists. To-day it had been as much as +he could do to let poor little Katie kiss his hand. +Better be vulgar with Byron than a noodle with +Dorset! he bitterly reflected. . . Still, noodledom +was nearer than vulgarity to dandyism. It was +a less flagrant lapse. And he had over Byron this +further advantage: his noodledom was not a mat- +ter of common knowledge; whereas Byron's vul- +garity had ever needed to be in the glare of the +footlights of Europe. The world would say of +him that he laid down his life for a woman. De- +plorable somersault? But nothing evident save +this in his whole life was faulty. . . The one other +thing that might be carped at -- the partisan +speech he made in the Lords -- had exquisitely +justified itself by its result. For it was as a Knight +of the Garter that he had set the perfect seal on +his dandyism. Yes, he reflected, it was on the +day when first he donned the most grandiose of +all costumes, and wore it grandlier than ever yet +in history had it been worn, than ever would it +be worn hereafter, flaunting the robes with a +grace unparalleled and inimitable, and lending, +as it were, to the very insignia a glory beyond +their own, that he once and for all fulfilled him- +self, doer of that which he had been sent into the +world to do. + + +278 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + And there floated into his mind a desire, vague +at first, soon definite, imperious, irresistible, to +see himself once more, before he died, indued in +the fulness of his glory and his might. + Nothing hindered. There was yet a whole hour +before he need start for the river. His eyes +dilated, somewhat as might those of a child about +to "dress up" for a charade; and already, in his +impatience, he had undone his neck-tie. + One after another, he unlocked and threw open +the black tin boxes, snatching out greedily their +great good splendours of crimson and white and +royal blue and gold. You wonder he was not +appalled by the task of essaying unaided a toilet +so extensive and so intricate? You wondered even +when you heard that he was wont at Oxford to +make without help his toilet of every day. Well, +the true dandy is always capable of such high +independence. He is craftsman as well as artist. +And, though any unaided Knight but he with +whom we are here concerned would belike have +doddered hopeless in that labyrinth of hooks and +buckles which underlies the visible glory of a +Knight "arraied full and proper," Dorset +threaded his way featly and without pause. He +had mastered his first excitement. In his swift- +ness was no haste. His procedure had the ease +and inevitability of a natural phenomenon, and +was most like to the coming of a rainbow. +Crimson-doubleted, blue-ribanded, white-trunk- + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 279 + +hosed, he stooped to understrap his left knee with +that strap of velvet round which sparkles the +proud gay motto of the Order. He affixed to his +breast the octoradiant star, so much larger and +more lustrous than any actual star in heaven. +Round his neck he slung that long daedal chain +wherefrom St. George, slaying the Dragon, dan- +gles. He bowed his shoulders to assume that +vast mantle of blue velvet, so voluminous, so en- +veloping, that, despite the Cross of St. George +blazing on it, and the shoulder-knots like two +great white tropical flowers planted on it, we +seem to know from it in what manner of mantle +Elijah prophesied. Across his breast he knotted +this mantle's two cords of gleaming bullion, one +tassel a due trifle higher than its fellow. All +these things being done, he moved away from the +mirror, and drew on a pair of white kid gloves. +Both of these being buttoned, he plucked up cer- +tain folds of his mantle into the hollow of his +left arm, and with his right hand gave to his left +hand that ostrich-plumed and heron-plumed hat +of black velvet in which a Knight of the Garter +is entitled to take his walks abroad. Then, with +head erect, and measured tread, he returned to +the mirror. + You are thinking, I know, of Mr. Sargent's +famous portrait of him. Forget it. Tankerton +Hall is open to the public on Wednesdays. Go +there, and in the dining-hall stand to study well + + +280 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +Sir Thomas Lawrence's portrait of the eleventh +Duke. Imagine a man some twenty years younger +than he whom you there behold, but having some +such features and some such bearing, and clad in +just such robes. Sublimate the dignity of that +bearing and of those features, and you will then +have seen the fourteenth Duke somewhat as he +stood reflected in the mirror of his room. Resist +your impulse to pass on to the painting which +hangs next but two to Lawrence's. It deserves, I +know, all that you said about it when (at the very +time of the events in this chronicle) it was hang- +ing in Burlington House. Marvellous, I grant +you, are those passes of the swirling brush by +which the velvet of the mantle is rendered -- +passes so light and seemingly so fortuitous, yet, +seen at the right distance, so absolute in their +power to create an illusion of the actual velvet. +Sheen of white satin and silk, glint of gold, glitter +of diamonds -- never were such things caught by +surer hand obedient to more voracious eye. Yes, +all the splendid surface of everything is there. +Yet must you not look. The soul is not there. +An expensive, very new costume is there, but no +evocation of the high antique things it stands for; +whereas by the Duke it was just these things that +were evoked to make an aura round him, a warm +symbolic glow sharpening the outlines of his own +particular magnificence. Reflecting him, the mir- +ror reflected, in due subordination, the history of + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 28l + +England. There is nothing of that on Mr. Sar- +gent's canvas. Obtruded instead is the astounding +slickness of Mr. Sargent's technique: not the sit- +ter, but the painter, is master here. Nay, though +I hate to say it, there is in the portrayal of the +Duke's attitude and expression a hint of some- +thing like mockery -- unintentional, I am sure, but +to a sensitive eye discernible. And -- but it is +clumsy of me to be reminding you of the very +picture I would have you forget. + Long stood the Duke gazing, immobile. One +thing alone ruffled his deep inward calm. This +was the thought that he must presently put off +from him all his splendour, and be his normal +self. + The shadow passed from his brow. He would +go forth as he was. He would be true to the +motto he wore, and true to himself. A dandy he +had lived. In the full pomp and radiance of his +dandyism he would die. + His soul rose from calm to triumph. A smile +lit his face, and he held his head higher than ever. +He had brought nothing into this world and could +take nothing out of it? Well, what he loved best +he could carry with him to the very end; and in +death they would not be divided. + The smile was still on his face as he passed out +from his room. Down the stairs he passed, and +"Oh," every stair creaked faintly, "I ought to +have been marble!" + + +282 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + And it did indeed seem that Mrs. Batch and +Katie, who had hurried out into the hall, were +turned to some kind of stone at sight of the +descending apparition. A moment ago, Mrs. +Batch had been hoping she might yet at the last +speak motherly words. A hopeless mute now! +A moment ago, Katie's eyelids had been red with +much weeping. Even from them the colour sud- +denly ebbed now. Dead-white her face was be- +tween the black pearl and the pink. "And this +is the man of whom I dared once for an instant +hope that he loved me!" -- it was thus that the +Duke, quite correctly, interpreted her gaze. + To her and to her mother he gave an inclusive +bow as he swept slowly by. Stone was the matron, +and stone the maid. + Stone, too, the Emperors over the way; and +the more poignantly thereby was the Duke a +sight to anguish them, being the very incarnation +of what themselves had erst been, or tried to be. +But in this bitterness they did not forget their +sorrow at his doom. They were in a mood to +forgive him the one fault they had ever found in +him -- his indifference to their Katie. And now -- +<i>o mirum mirorum</i> -- even this one fault was wiped +out. + For, stung by memory of a gibe lately cast at +him by himself, the Duke had paused and, impul- +sively looking back into the hall, had beckoned +Katie to him; and she had come (she knew not + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 283 + +how) to him; and there, standing on the door- +step whose whiteness was the symbol of her love, +he -- very lightly, it is true, and on the upmost +confines of the brow, but quite perceptibly -- had +kissed her. + + +XIX + +AND now he had passed under the little arch +between the eighth and the ninth Emperor, +rounded the Sheldonian, and been lost to sight of +Katie, whom, as he was equally glad and sorry he +had kissed her, he was able to dismiss from his +mind. + In the quadrangle of the Old Schools he glanced +round at the familiar labels, blue and gold, over +the iron-studded doors, -- Schola Theologiæ et +Antiquæ Philosophiæ; Museum Arundelianum; +Schola Musicæ. And Bibliotheca Bodleiana -- he +paused there, to feel for the last time the vague +thrill he had always felt at sight of the small and +devious portal that had lured to itself, and would +always lure, so many scholars from the ends of +the earth, scholars famous and scholars obscure, +scholars polyglot and of the most diverse bents, +but none of them not stirred in heart somewhat +on the found threshold of the treasure-house. +"How deep, how perfect, the effect made here +by refusal to make any effect whatsoever!" +thought the Duke. Perhaps, after all. . .but no: +one could lay down no general rule. He flung +his mantle a little wider from his breast, and pro- +ceeded into Radcliffe Square. + +284 + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 285 + + Another farewell look he gave to the old vast +horse-chestnut that is called Bishop Heber's tree. +Certainly, no: there was no general rule. With +its towering and bulging masses of verdure tricked +out all over in their annual finery of catkins, +Bishop Heber's tree stood for the very type of +ingenuous ostentation. And who should dare +cavil? who not be gladdened? Yet awful, more +than gladdening, was the effect that the tree made +to-day. Strangely pale was the verdure against +the black sky; and the multitudinous catkins had +a look almost ghostly. The Duke remembered +the legend that every one of these fair white +spires of blossom is the spirit of some dead man +who, having loved Oxford much and well, is suf- +fered thus to revisit her, for a brief while, year +by year. And it pleased him to doubt not that +on one of the topmost branches, next Spring, his +own spirit would be. + "Oh, look!" cried a young lady emerging with +her brother and her aunt through the gate of +Brasenose. + "For heaven's sake, Jessie, try to behave your- +self," hissed her brother. "Aunt Mabel, for +heaven's sake don't stare." He compelled the +pair to walk on with him. "Jessie, if you look +round over your shoulder. . . No, it is <i>not</i> the +Vice-Chancellor. It's Dorset, of Judas -- the +Duke of Dorset. . . Why on earth shouldn't he? +. . .No, it isn't odd in the least. . . No, I'm <i>not</i> + + +286 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +losing my temper. Only, don't call me your dear +boy. . . No, we will <i>not</i> walk slowly so as to let +him pass us. . . Jessie, if you look round. . ." + Poor fellow! However fond an undergraduate +be of his womenfolk, at Oxford they keep him in +a painful state of tension: at any moment they +may somehow disgrace him. And if throughout +the long day he shall have had the added strain +of guarding them from the knowledge that he is +about to commit suicide, a certain measure of +irritability must be condoned. + Poor Jessie and Aunt Mabel! They were des- +tined to remember that Harold had been "very +peculiar" all day. They had arrived in the morn- +ing, happy and eager despite the menace of the +sky, and -- well, they were destined to reproach +themselves for having felt that Harold was +"really rather impossible." Oh, if he had only +confided in them! They could have reasoned +with him, saved him -- surely they could have saved +him! When he told them that the "First Divi- +sion" of the races was always very dull, and that +they had much better let him go to it alone, -- +when he told them that it was always very rowdy, +and that ladies were not supposed to be there -- +oh, why had they not guessed and clung to him, +and kept him away from the river? + Well, here they were, walking on Harold's +either side, blind to fate, and only longing to look +back at the gorgeous personage behind them. + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 287 + +Aunt Mabel had inwardly calculated that the vel- +vet of the mantle alone could not have cost less +than four guineas a yard. One good look back, +and she would be able to calculate how many +yards there were. . . She followed the example of +Lot's wife; and Jessie followed hers. + "Very well," said Harold. "That settles it. +I go alone." And he was gone like an arrow, +across the High, down Oriel Street. + The two women stood staring ruefully at each +other. + "Pardon me," said the Duke, with a sweep of +his plumed hat. "I observe you are stranded; +and, if I read your thoughts aright, you are +impugning the courtesy of that young runagate. +Neither of you, I am very sure, is as one of those +ladies who in Imperial Rome took a saucy pleas- +ure in the spectacle of death. Neither of you can +have been warned by your escort that you were on +the way to see him die, of his own accord, in com- +pany with many hundreds of other lads, myself +included. Therefore, regard his flight from you +as an act not of unkindness, but of tardy com- +punction. The hint you have had from him let +me turn into a counsel. Go back, both of you, +to the place whence you came." + "Thank you <i>so</i> much," said Aunt Mabel, with +what she took to be great presence of mind. +"<i>Most</i> kind of you. We'll do <i>just</i> what you tell + + +288 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +us. Come, Jessie dear," and she hurried her +niece away with her. + Something in her manner of fixing him with her +eye had made the Duke suspect what was in her +mind. Well, she would find out her mistake soon +enough, poor woman. He desired, however, that +her mistake should be made by no one else. He +would give no more warnings. + Tragic it was for him, in Merton Street, to see +among the crowd converging to the meadows so +many women, young and old, all imprescient, +troubled by nothing but the thunder that was in +the air, that was on the brows of their escorts. +He knew not whether it was for their escorts or +for them that he felt the greater pity; and an +added load for his heart was the sense of his +partial responsibility for what impended. But +his lips were sealed now. Why should he not +enjoy the effect he was creating? + It was with a measured tread, as yesterday +with Zuleika, that he entered the avenue of elms. +The throng streamed past from behind him, part- +ing wide, and marvelling as it streamed. Under +the pall of this evil evening his splendour was the +more inspiring. And, just as yesterday no man +had questioned his right to be with Zuleika, so +to-day there was none to deem him caparisoned +too much. All the men felt at a glance that he, +coming to meet death thus, did no more than the +right homage to Zuleika -- aye, and that he made + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 289 + +them all partakers in his own glory, casting his +great mantle over all commorients. Reverence +forbade them to do more than glance. But the +women with them were impelled by wonder to +stare hard, uttering sharp little cries that mingled +with the cawing of the rooks overhead. Thus did +scores of men find themselves shamed like our +friend Harold. But this, you say, was no more +than a just return for their behaviour yesterday, +when, in this very avenue, so many women were +almost crushed to death by them in their insensate +eagerness to see Miss Dobson. + To-day by scores of women it was calculated +not only that the velvet of the Duke's mantle +could not have cost less than four guineas a yard, +but also that there must be quite twenty-five yards +of it. Some of the fair mathematicians had, in +the course of the past fortnight, visited the Royal +Academy and seen there Mr. Sargent's portrait +of the wearer, so that their estimate now was +but the endorsement of an estimate already made. +Yet their impression of the Duke was above all +a spiritual one. The nobility of his face and +bearing was what most thrilled them as they went +by; and those of them who had heard the rumour +that he was in love with that frightfully flashy- +looking creature, Zuleika Dobson, were more than +ever sure there wasn't a word of truth in it. + As he neared the end of the avenue, the Duke +was conscious of a thinning in the procession on + + +290 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +either side of him, and anon he was aware that +not one undergraduate was therein. And he +knew at once -- did not need to look back to know +-- why this was. <i>She</i> was coming. + Yes, she had come into the avenue, her magne- +tism speeding before her, insomuch that all along +the way the men immediately ahead of her looked +round, beheld her, stood aside for her. With her +walked The MacQuern, and a little bodyguard of +other blest acquaintances; and behind her swayed +the dense mass of the disorganised procession. +And now the last rank between her and the Duke +was broken, and at the revealed vision of him she +faltered midway in some raillery she was ad- +dressing to The MacQuern. Her eyes were fixed, +her lips were parted, her tread had become +stealthy. With a brusque gesture of dismissal to +the men beside her, she darted forward, and +lightly overtook the Duke just as he was turning +towards the barges. + "May I?" she whispered, smiling round into +his face. + His shoulder-knots just perceptibly rose. +"There isn't a policeman in sight, John. You're +at my mercy. No, no; I'm at yours. Tolerate +me. You really do look quite wonderful. There, +I won't be so impertinent as to praise you. Only +let me be with you. Will you?" + The shoulder-knots repeated their answer. + "You needn't listen to me; needn't look at me + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 291 + +-- unless you care to use my eyes as mirrors. Only +let me be seen with you. That's what I want. +Not that your society isn't a boon in itself, John. +Oh, I've been so bored since I left you. The +MacQuern is too, too dull, and so are his friends. +Oh, that meal with them in Balliol! As soon as +I grew used to the thought that they were going +to die for me, I simply couldn't stand them. Poor +boys! it was as much as I could do not to tell +them I wished them dead already. Indeed, when +they brought me down for the first races, I did +suggest that they might as well die now as later. +Only they looked very solemn and said it couldn't +possibly be done till after the final races. And +oh, the tea with them! What have <i>you</i> been +doing all the afternoon? Oh John, after <i>them</i>, +I could almost love you again. Why can't one +fall in love with a man's clothes? To think that +all those splendid things you have on are going to +be spoilt -- all for me. Nominally for me, that is. +It is very wonderful, John. I do appreciate it, +really and truly, though I know you think I don't. +John, if it weren't mere spite you feel for me -- +but it's no good talking about that. Come, let us +be as cheerful as we may be. Is this the Judas +house-boat?" + "The Judas barge," said the Duke, irritated +by a mistake which but yesterday had rather +charmed him. + As he followed his companion across the plank, + + +292 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +there came dully from the hills the first low growl +of the pent storm. The sound struck for him a +strange contrast with the prattle he had perforce +been listening to. + "Thunder," said Zuleika over her shoulder. + "Evidently," he answered. + Half-way up the stairs to the roof, she looked +round. "Aren't you coming?" she asked. + He shook his head, and pointed to the raft in +front of the barge. She quickly descended. + "Forgive me," he said, "my gesture was not a +summons. The raft is for men." + "What do you want to do on it?" + "To wait there till the races are over." + "But -- what do you mean? Aren't you coming +up on to the roof at all? Yesterday --" + "Oh, I see," said the Duke, unable to repress +a smile. "But to-day I am not dressed for a +flying-leap." + Zuleika put a finger to her lips. "Don't talk +so loud. Those women up there will hear you. +No one must ever know I knew what was going +to happen. What evidence should I have that I +tried to prevent it? Only my own unsupported +word -- and the world is always against a woman. +So do be careful. I've thought it all out. The +whole thing must be <i>sprung</i> on me. Don't look +so horribly cynical. . . What was I saying? Oh +yes; well, it doesn't really matter. I had it fixed +in my mind that you -- but no, of course, in that + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 293 + +mantle you couldn't. But why not come up on the +roof with me meanwhile, and then afterwards +make some excuse and --" The rest of her +whisper was lost in another growl of thunder. + "I would rather make my excuses forthwith," +said the Duke. "And, as the races must be almost +due now, I advise you to go straight up and secure +a place against the railing." + "It will look very odd, my going all alone into +a crowd of people whom I don't know. I'm an +unmarried girl. I do think you might --" + "Good-bye," said the Duke. + Again Zuleika raised a warning finger. + "Good-bye, John," she whispered. "See, I am +still wearing your studs. Good-bye. Don't forget +to call my name in a loud voice. You promised." + "Yes." + "And," she added, after a pause, "remember +this. I have loved but twice in my life; and none +but you have I loved. This, too: if you hadn't +forced me to kill my love, I would have died with +you. And you know it is true." + "Yes." It was true enough. + Courteously he watched her up the stairs. + As she reached the roof, she cried down to him +from the throng, "Then you will wait down there +to take me home afterwards?" + He bowed silently. + The raft was even more crowded than yester- +day, but way was made for him by Judasians past + + +294 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +and present. He took his place in the centre of +the front row. + At his feet flowed the fateful river. From the +various barges the last punt-loads had been fer- +ried across to the towing-path, and the last of the +men who were to follow the boats in their course +had vanished towards the starting-point. There +remained, however, a fringe of lesser enthusiasts. +Their figures stood outlined sharply in that +strange dark clearness which immediately precedes +a storm. + The thunder rumbled around the hills, and now +and again there was a faint glare on the horizon. + Would Judas bump Magdalen? Opinion on +the raft seemed to be divided. But the sanguine +spirits were in a majority. + "If I were making a book on the event," said +a middle-aged clergyman, with that air of breezy +emancipation which is so distressing to the laity, +"I'd bet two to one we bump." + "You demean your cloth, sir," the Duke would +have said, "without cheating its disabilities," had +not his mouth been stopped by a loud and pro- +longed thunder-clap. + In the hush thereafter, came the puny sound of +a gunshot. The boats were starting. Would +Judas bump Magdalen? Would Judas be head +of the river? + Strange, thought the Duke, that for him, stand- +ing as he did on the peak of dandyism, on the + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 295 + +brink of eternity, this trivial question of boats +could have importance. And yet, and yet, for +this it was that his heart was beating. A few +minutes hence, an end to victors and vanquished +alike; and yet. . . + A sudden white vertical streak slid down the +sky. Then there was a consonance to split the +drums of the world's ears, followed by a horrific +rattling as of actual artillery -- tens of thousands +of gun-carriages simultaneously at the gallop, col- +liding, crashing, heeling over in the blackness. + Then, and yet more awful, silence; the little +earth cowering voiceless under the heavens' men- +ace. And, audible in the hush now, a faint sound; +the sound of the runners on the towing-path cheer- +ing the crews forward, forward. + And there was another faint sound that came +to the Duke's ears. It he understood when, a +moment later, he saw the surface of the river +alive with infinitesimal fountains. + Rain! + His very mantle was aspersed. In another +minute he would stand sodden, inglorious, a mock. +He didn't hesitate. + "Zuleika!" he cried in a loud voice. Then he +took a deep breath, and, burying his face in his +mantle, plunged. + Full on the river lay the mantle outspread. +Then it, too, went under. A great roll of water +marked the spot. The plumed hat floated. + + +296 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + There was a confusion of shouts from the raft, +of screams from the roof. Many youths -- all the +youths there -- cried "Zuleika!" and leapt emu- +lously headlong into the water. "Brave fellows!" +shouted the elder men, supposing rescue-work. +The rain pelted, the thunder pealed. Here and +there was a glimpse of a young head above water +-- for an instant only. + Shouts and screams now from the infected +barges on either side. A score of fresh plunges. +"Splendid fellows!" + Meanwhile, what of the Duke? I am glad to +say that he was alive and (but for the cold he +had caught last night) well. Indeed, his mind +had never worked more clearly than in this swift +dim underworld. His mantle, the cords of it +having come untied, had drifted off him, leaving +his arms free. With breath well-pent, he steadily +swam, scarcely less amused than annoyed that the +gods had, after all, dictated the exact time at +which he should seek death. + I am loth to interrupt my narrative at this +rather exciting moment -- a moment when the +quick, tense style, exemplified in the last para- +graph but one, is so very desirable. But in justice +to the gods I must pause to put in a word of ex- +cuse for them. They had imagined that it was in +mere irony that the Duke had said he could not +die till after the bumping-races; and not until it +seemed that he stood ready to make an end of + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 297 + +himself had the signal been given by Zeus for the +rain to fall. One is taught to refrain from irony, +because mankind does tend to take it literally. +In the hearing of the gods, who hear all, it is +conversely unsafe to make a simple and direct +statement. So what is one to do? The dilemma +needs a whole volume to itself. + But to return to the Duke. He had now been +under water for a full minute, swimming down +stream; and he calculated that he had yet another +full minute of consciousness. Already the whole +of his past life had vividly presented itself to him +-- myriads of tiny incidents, long forgotten, now +standing out sharply in their due sequence. He +had mastered this conspectus in a flash of time, +and was already tired of it. How smooth and +yielding were the weeds against his face! He +wondered if Mrs. Batch had been in time to cash +the cheque. If not, of course his executors would +pay the amount, but there would be delays, long +delays, Mrs. Batch in meshes of red tape. Red +tape for her, green weeds for him -- he smiled at +this poor conceit, classifying it as a fair sample of +merman's wit. He swam on through the quiet +cool darkness, less quickly now. Not many more +strokes now, he told himself; a few, only a few; +then sleep. How was he come here? Some +woman had sent him. Ever so many years ago, +some woman. He forgave her. There was noth- +ing to forgive her. It was the gods who had + + +298 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +sent him -- too soon, too soon. He let his arms +rise in the water, and he floated up. There was +air in that over-world, and something he needed +to know there before he came down again to +sleep. + He gasped the air into his lungs, and he remem- +bered what it was that he needed to know. + Had he risen in mid-stream, the keel of the +Magdalen boat might have killed him. The oars +of Magdalen did all but graze his face. The eyes +of the Magdalen cox met his. The cords of the +Magdalen rudder slipped from the hands that +held them; whereupon the Magdalen man who +rowed "bow" missed his stroke. + An instant later, just where the line of barges +begins, Judas had bumped Magdalen. + A crash of thunder deadened the din of the +stamping and dancing crowd on the towing-path. +The rain was a deluge making land and water +as one. + And the conquered crew, and the conquering, +both now had seen the face of the Duke. A white +smiling face, anon it was gone. Dorset was gone +down to his last sleep. + Victory and defeat alike forgotten, the crews +staggered erect and flung themselves into the +river, the slender boats capsizing and spinning +futile around in a melley of oars. + From the towing-path -- no more din there now, +but great single cries of "Zuleika!" -- leapt figures + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 299 + +innumerable through rain to river. The arrested +boats of the other crews drifted zigzag hither and +thither. The dropped oars rocked and clashed, +sank and rebounded, as the men plunged across +them into the swirling stream. + And over all this confusion and concussion of +men and man-made things crashed the vaster dis- +cords of the heavens; and the waters of the +heavens fell ever denser and denser, as though +to the aid of waters that could not in themselves +envelop so many hundreds of struggling human +forms. + All along the soaked towing-path lay strewn +the horns, the rattles, the motor-hooters, that the +youths had flung aside before they leapt. Here +and there among these relics stood dazed elder +men, staring through the storm. There was one +of them -- a grey-beard -- who stripped off his +blazer, plunged, grabbed at some live man, grap- +pled him, was dragged under. He came up again +further along stream, swam choking to the bank, +clung to the grasses. He whimpered as he sought +foot-hold in the slime. It was ill to be down in +that abominable sink of death. + Abominable, yes, to them who discerned there +death only; but sacramental and sweet enough +to the men who were dying there for love. Any +face that rose was smiling. + The thunder receded; the rain was less vehe- +ment: the boats and the oars had drifted against + + +300 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +the banks. And always the patient river bore its +awful burden towards Iffley. + As on the towing-path, so on the youth-bereft +rafts of the barges, yonder, stood many stupefied +elders, staring at the river, staring back from the +river into one another's faces. + Dispeopled now were the roofs of the barges. +Under the first drops of the rain most of the +women had come huddling down for shelter in- +side; panic had presently driven down the rest. +Yet on one roof one woman still was. A strange, +drenched figure, she stood bright-eyed in the dim- +ness; alone, as it was well she should be in her +great hour; draining the lees of such homage as +had come to no woman in history recorded. + + +XX + +ARTISTICALLY, there is a good deal to be said for +that old Greek friend of ours, the Messenger; +and I dare say you blame me for having, as it +were, made you an eye-witness of the death of the +undergraduates, when I might so easily have +brought some one in to tell you about it after it +was all over. . . Some one? Whom? Are you +not begging the question? I admit there were, +that evening in Oxford, many people who, when +they went home from the river, gave vivid reports +of what they had seen. But among them was none +who had seen more than a small portion of the +whole affair. Certainly, I might have pieced to- +gether a dozen of the various accounts, and put +them all into the mouth of one person. But cred- +ibility is not enough for Clio's servant. I aim at +truth. And so, as I by my Zeus-given incorporeity +was the one person who had a good view of the +scene at large, you must pardon me for having +withheld the veil of indirect narration. + "Too late," you will say if I offer you a Mes- +senger now. But it was not thus that Mrs. Batch +and Katie greeted Clarence when, lamentably +soaked with rain, that Messenger appeared on + +301 + + +302 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +the threshold of the kitchen. Katie was laying +the table-cloth for seven o'clock supper. Neither +she nor her mother was clairvoyante. Neither +of them knew what had been happening. But, +as Clarence had not come home since afternoon- +school, they had assumed that he was at the river; +and they now assumed from the look of him that +something very unusual had been happening there. +As to what this was, they were not quickly en- +lightened. Our old Greek friend, after a run of +twenty miles, would always reel off a round hun- +dred of graphic verses unimpeachable in scansion. +Clarence was of degenerate mould. He collapsed +on to a chair, and sat there gasping; and his re- +covery was rather delayed than hastened by his +mother, who, in her solicitude, patted him vigor- +ously between the shoulders. + "Let him alone, mother, do," cried Katie, +wringing her hands. + "The Duke, he's drowned himself," presently +gasped the Messenger. + Blank verse, yes, so far as it went; but delivered +without the slightest regard for rhythm, and com- +posed in stark defiance of those laws which should +regulate the breaking of bad news. You, please +remember, were carefully prepared by me against +the shock of the Duke's death; and yet I hear +you still mumbling that I didn't let the actual fact +be told you by a Messenger. Come, do you really +think your grievance against me is for a moment + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 303 + +comparable with that of Mrs. and Miss Batch +against Clarence? Did you feel faint at any +moment in the foregoing chapter? No. But +Katie, at Clarence's first words, fainted outright. +Think a little more about this poor girl senseless +on the floor, and a little less about your own +paltry discomfort. + Mrs. Batch herself did not faint, but she was +too much overwhelmed to notice that her daugh- +ter had done so. + "No! Mercy on us! Speak, boy, can't you?" + "The river," gasped Clarence. "Threw him- +self in. On purpose. I was on the towing-path. +Saw him do it." + Mrs. Batch gave a low moan. + "Katie's fainted," added the Messenger, not +without a touch of personal pride. + "Saw him do it," Mrs. Batch repeated dully. +"Katie," she said, in the same voice, "get up this +instant." But Katie did not hear her. + The mother was loth to have been outdone in +sensibility by the daughter, and it was with some +temper that she hastened to make the necessary +ministrations. + "Where am I?" asked Katie, at length, echoing +the words used in this very house, at a similar +juncture, on this very day, by another lover of +the Duke. + "Ah, you may well ask that," said Mrs. Batch, +with more force than reason. "A mother's sup- + + +304 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +port indeed! Well! And as for you," she cried, +turning on Clarence, "sending her off like that +with your --" She was face to face again with +the tragic news. Katie, remembering it simultane- +ously, uttered a loud sob. Mrs. Batch capped this +with a much louder one. Clarence stood before +the fire, slowly revolving on one heel. His clothes +steamed briskly. + "It isn't true," said Katie. She rose and came +uncertainly towards her brother, half threatening, +half imploring. + "All right," said he, strong in his advantage. +"Then I shan't tell either of you anything more." + Mrs. Batch through her tears called Katie a +bad girl, and Clarence a bad boy. + "Where did you get <i>them</i>?" asked Clarence, +pointing to the ear-rings worn by his sister. + "<i>He</i> gave me them," said Katie. Clarence +curbed the brotherly intention of telling her she +looked "a sight" in them. + She stood staring into vacancy. "He didn't +love <i>her</i>," she murmured. "That was all over. +I'll vow he didn't love <i>her</i>." + "Who d'you mean by her?" asked Clarence. + "That Miss Dobson that's been here." + "What's her other name?" + "Zuleika," Katie enunciated with bitterest ab- +horrence. + "Well, then, he jolly well did love her. That's +the name he called out just before he threw him- + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 305 + +self in. 'Zuleika!' -- like that," added the boy, +with a most infelicitous attempt to reproduce the +Duke's manner. + Katie had shut her eyes, and clenched her +hands. + "He hated her. He told me so," she said. + "I was always a mother to him," sobbed Mrs. +Batch, rocking to and fro on a chair in a corner. +"Why didn't he come to me in his trouble?" + "He kissed me," said Katie, as in a trance. +"No other man shall ever do that." + "He did?" exclaimed Clarence. "And you let +him?" + "You wretched little whipper-snapper!" flashed +Katie. + "Oh, I am, am I?" shouted Clarence, squaring +up to his sister. "Say that again, will you?" + There is no doubt that Katie would have said +it again, had not her mother closed the scene +with a prolonged wail of censure. + "You ought to be thinking of <i>me</i>, you wicked +girl," said Mrs. Batch. Katie went across, and +laid a gentle hand on her mother's shoulder. This, +however, did but evoke a fresh flood of tears. +Mrs. Batch had a keen sense of the deportment +owed to tragedy. Katie, by bickering with Clar- +ence, had thrown away the advantage she had +gained by fainting. Mrs. Batch was not going +to let her retrieve it by shining as a consoler. I +hasten to add that this resolve was only sub-con- + + +306 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +scious in the good woman. Her grief was per- +fectly sincere. And it was not the less so because +with it was mingled a certain joy in the greatness +of the calamity. She came of good sound peasant +stock. Abiding in her was the spirit of those old +songs and ballads in which daisies and daffodillies +and lovers' vows and smiles are so strangely in- +woven with tombs and ghosts, with murders and +all manner of grim things. She had not had edu- +cation enough to spoil her nerve. She was able +to take the rough with the smooth. She was able +to take all life for her province, and death +too. + The Duke was dead. This was the stupendous +outline she had grasped: now let it be filled in. +She had been stricken: now let her be racked. +Soon after her daughter had moved away, Mrs. +Batch dried her eyes, and bade Clarence tell just +what had happened. She did not flinch. Modern +Katie did. + Such had ever been the Duke's magic in the +household that Clarence had at first forgotten to +mention that any one else was dead. Of this +omission he was glad. It promised him a new +lease of importance. Meanwhile, he described in +greater detail the Duke's plunge. Mrs. Batch's +mind, while she listened, ran ahead, dog-like, into +the immediate future, ranging around: "the fam- +ily" would all be here to-morrow, the Duke's own +room must be "put straight" to-night, "I was + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 307 + +always a mother to him, my Lady, in a manner +of speaking". . . + Katie's mind harked back to the immediate past +-- to the tone of that voice, to that hand which +she had kissed, to the touch of those lips on her +brow, to the door-step she had made so white for +him, day by day. . . + The sound of the rain had long ceased. There +was the noise of a gathering wind. + "Then in went a lot of others," Clarence was +saying. "And they all shouted out 'Zuleika!' just +like he did. Then a lot more went in. First I +thought it was some sort of fun. Not it!" And +he told how, by inquiries further down the river, +he had learned the extent of the disaster. "Hun- +dreds and hundreds of them -- <i>all</i> of them," he +summed up. "And all for the love of <i>her</i>," he +added, as with a sulky salute to Romance. + Mrs. Batch had risen from her chair, the better +to cope with such magnitude. She stood with +wide-spread arms, silent, gaping. She seemed, by +sheer force of sympathy, to be expanding to the +dimensions of a crowd. + Intensive Katie recked little of all these other +deaths. "I only know," she said, "that he hated +her." + "Hundreds and hundreds -- <i>all</i>," intoned Mrs. +Batch, then gave a sudden start, as having remem- +bered something. Mr. Noaks! He, too! She +staggered to the door, leaving her actual offspring + + +308 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +to their own devices, and went heavily up the +stairs, her mind scampering again before her. . . . +If he was safe and sound, dear young gentleman, +heaven be praised! and she would break the awful +news to him, very gradually. If not, there was +another "family" to be solaced; "I'm a mother +myself, Mrs. Noaks". . . + The sitting-room door was closed. Twice did +Mrs. Batch tap on the panel, receiving no answer. +She went in, gazed around in the dimness, sighed +deeply, and struck a match. Conspicuous on the +table lay a piece of paper. She bent to examine +it. A piece of lined paper, torn from an exercise +book, it was neatly inscribed with the words <i>What +is Life without Love?</i> The final word and the +note of interrogation were somewhat blurred, as +by a tear. The match had burnt itself out. The +landlady lit another, and read the legend a second +time, that she might take in the full pathos of it. +Then she sat down in the arm-chair. For some +minutes she wept there. Then, having no more, +tears, she went out on tip-toe, closing the door +very quietly. + As she descended the last flight of stairs, her +daughter had just shut the front-door, and was +coming along the hall. + "Poor Mr. Noaks -- he's gone," said the +mother. + "Has he?" said Katie listlessly. + "Yes he has, you heartless girl. What's that + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 309 + +you've got in your hand? Why, if it isn't the +black-leading! And what have you been doing +with that?" + "Let me alone, mother, do," said poor Katie. +She had done her lowly task. She had expressed +her mourning, as best she could, there where she +had been wont to express her love. + + +XXI + +AND Zuleika? She had done a wise thing, and +was where it was best that she should be. + Her face lay upturned on the water's surface, +and round it were the masses of her dark hair, +half floating, half submerged. Her eyes were +closed, and her lips were parted. Not Ophelia in +the brook could have seemed more at peace. + "Like a creature native and indued + Unto that element," +tranquil Zuleika lay. + Gently to and fro her tresses drifted on the +water, or under the water went ever ravelling and +unravelling. Nothing else of her stirred. + What to her now the loves that she had inspired +and played on? the lives lost for her? Little +thought had she now of them. Aloof she lay. + Steadily rising from the water was a thick va- +pour that turned to dew on the window-pane. The +air was heavy with scent of violets. These are +the flowers of mourning; but their scent here and +now signified nothing; for Eau de Violettes was +the bath-essence that Zuleika always had. + The bath-room was not of the white-gleaming +kind to which she was accustomed. The walls +were papered, not tiled, and the bath itself was of + +310 + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 311 + +japanned tin, framed in mahogany. These things, +on the evening of her arrival at the Warden's, +had rather distressed her. But she was the better +able to bear them because of that well-remembered +past when a bath-room was in itself a luxury pined +for -- days when a not-large and not-full can of +not-hot water, slammed down at her bedroom +door by a governess-resenting housemaid, was as +much as the gods allowed her. And there was, +to dulcify for her the bath of this evening, the yet +sharper contrast with the plight she had just come +home in, sopped, shivering, clung to by her +clothes. Because this bath was not a mere lux- +ury, but a necessary precaution, a sure means of +salvation from chill, she did the more gratefully +bask in it, till Mélisande came back to her, laden +with warmed towels. + A few minutes before eight o'clock she was +fully ready to go down to dinner, with even more +than the usual glow of health, and hungry beyond +her wont. + Yet, as she went down, her heart somewhat +misgave her. Indeed, by force of the wide ex- +perience she had had as a governess, she never +did feel quite at her ease when she was staying +in a private house: the fear of not giving satisfac- +tion haunted her; she was always on her guard; +the shadow of dismissal absurdly hovered. And +to-night she could not tell herself, as she usually +did, not to be so silly. If her grandfather knew + + +312 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +already the motive by which those young men +had been actuated, dinner with him might be a +rather strained affair. He might tell her, in so +many words, that he wished he had not invited +her to Oxford. + Through the open door of the drawing room +she saw him, standing majestic, draped in a volum- +inous black gown. Her instinct was to run away; +but this she conquered. She went straight in, re- +membering not to smile. + "Ah, ah," said the Warden, shaking a fore- +finger at her with old-world playfulness. "And +what have you to say for yourself?" + Relieved, she was also a trifle shocked. Was +it possible that he, a responsible old man, could +take things so lightly? + "Oh, grand-papa," she answered, hanging her +head, "what <i>can</i> I say? It is -- it is too, too, +dreadful." + "There, there, my dear. I was but jesting. If +you have had an agreeable time, you are forgiven +for playing truant. Where have you been all +day?" + She saw that she had misjudged him. "I have +just come from the river," she said gravely. + "Yes? And did the College make its fourth +bump to-night?" + "I -- I don't know, grand-papa. There was so +much happening. It -- I will tell you all about it +at dinner." + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 313 + + "Ah, but to-night," he said, indicating his gown, +"I cannot be with you. The bump-supper, you +know. I have to preside in Hall." + Zuleika had forgotten there was to be a bump- +supper, and, though she was not very sure what +a bump-supper was, she felt it would be a mockery +to-night. + "But grand-papa-" she began. + "My dear, I cannot dissociate myself from the +life of the College. And, alas," he said, looking +at the clock, "I must leave you now. As soon +as you have finished dinner, you might, if you +would care to, come and peep down at us from +the gallery. There is apt to be some measure of +noise and racket, but all of it good-humoured and +-- boys will be boys -- pardonable. Will you +come?" + "Perhaps, grand-papa," she said awkwardly. +Left alone, she hardly knew whether to laugh +or cry. In a moment, the butler came to her +rescue, telling her that dinner was served. + As the figure of the Warden emerged from Salt +Cellar into the Front Quadrangle, a hush fell on +the group of gowned Fellows outside the Hall. +Most of them had only just been told the news, +and (such is the force of routine in an University) +were still sceptical of it. And in face of these +doubts the three or four dons who had been +down at the river were now half ready to believe +that there must, after all, be some mistake, and + + +314 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +that in this world of illusions they had to-night +been specially tricked. To rebut this theory, there +was the notable absence of undergraduates. Or +was this an illusion, too? Men of thought, agile +on the plane of ideas, devils of fellows among +books, they groped feebly in this matter of actual +life and death. The sight of their Warden heart- +ened them. After all, he was the responsible +person. He was father of the flock that had +strayed, and grandfather of the beautiful Miss +Zuleika. + Like her, they remembered not to smile in +greeting him. + "Good evening, gentlemen," he said. "The +storm seems to have passed." + There was a murmur of "Yes, Warden." + "And how did our boat acquit itself?" + There was a shuffling pause. Every one looked +at the Sub-Warden: it was manifestly for him to +break the news, or to report the hallucination. +He was nudged forward -- a large man, with a +large beard at which he plucked nervously. + "Well, really, Warden," he said, "we -- we +hardly know,"* and he ended with what can only + + *Those of my readers who are interested in athletic sports +will remember the long controversy that raged as to whether +Judas had actually bumped Magdalen; and they will not need +to be minded that it was mainly through the evidence of +Mr. E. T. A. Cook, who had been on the towing-path at the +time, that the 0. U. B. C. decided the point in Judas' favour, +and fixed the order of the boats for the following year accordingly. + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 315 + +be described as a giggle. He fell low in the +esteem of his fellows. + Thinking of that past Sub-Warden whose fame +was linked with the sun-dial, the Warden eyed +this one keenly. + "Well, gentlemen," he presently said, "our +young men seem to be already at table. Shall we +follow their example?" And he led the way up +the steps. + Already at table? The dons' dubiety toyed +with this hypothesis. But the aspect of the Hall's +Interior was hard to explain away. Here were +the three long tables, stretching white towards +the dais, and laden with the usual crockery and +cutlery, and with pots of flowers in honour of the +occasion. And here, ranged along either wall, +was the usual array of scouts, motionless, with +napkins across their arms. But that was all. + It became clear to the Warden that some organ- +ised prank or protest was afoot. Dignity required +that he should take no heed whatsoever. Look- +ing neither to the right nor to the left, stately he +approached the dais, his Fellows to heel. + In Judas, as in other Colleges, grace before +meat is read by the Senior Scholar. The Judas +grace (composed, they say, by Christopher Whit- +rid himself) is noted for its length and for the +excellence of its Latinity. Who was to read it +to-night? The Warden, having searched his mind +vainly for a precedent, was driven to create one. + + +316 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + "The Junior Fellow," he said, "will read +grace." + Blushing to the roots of his hair, and with crab- +like gait, Mr. Pedby, the Junior Fellow, went +and unhooked from the wall that little shield of +wood on which the words of the grace are carven. +Mr. Pedby was -- Mr. Pedby is -- a mathemati- +cian. His treatise on the Higher Theory of +Short Division by Decimals had already won for +him an European reputation. Judas was -- Judas +is -- proud of Pedby. Nor is it denied that in +undertaking the duty thrust on him he quickly +controlled his nerves and read the Latin out in +ringing accents. Better for him had he not done +so. The false quantities he made were so ex- +cruciating and so many that, while the very scouts +exchanged glances, the dons at the high table lost +all command of their features, and made horrible +noises in the effort to contain themselves. The +very Warden dared not look from his plate. + In every breast around the high table, behind +every shirtfront or black silk waistcoat, glowed +the recognition of a new birth. Suddenly, un- +heralded, a thing of highest destiny had fallen +into their academic midst. The stock of Common +Room talk had to-night been re-inforced and en- +riched for all time. Summers and winters would +come and go, old faces would vanish, giving place +to new, but the story of Pedby's grace would be +told always. Here was a tradition that genera- + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 317 + +tions of dons yet unborn would cherish and +chuckle over. Something akin to awe mingled +itself with the subsiding merriment. And the +dons, having finished their soup, sipped in silence +the dry brown sherry. + Those who sat opposite to the Warden, with +their backs to the void, were oblivious of the +matter that had so recently teased them. They +were conscious only of an agreeable hush, in which +they peered down the vistas of the future, watch- +ing the tradition of Pedby's grace as it rolled +brighter and ever brighter down to eternity. + The pop of a champagne cork startled them +to remembrance that this was a bump-supper, and +a bump-supper of a peculiar kind. The turbot +that came after the soup, the champagne that +succeeded the sherry, helped to quicken in these +men of thought the power to grapple with a +reality. The aforesaid three or four who had +been down at the river recovered their lost belief +in the evidence of their eyes and ears. In the +rest was a spirit of receptivity which, as the meal +went on, mounted to conviction. The Sub-War- +den made a second and more determined attempt +to enlighten the Warden; but the Warden's eye +met his with a suspicion so cruelly pointed that +he again floundered and gave in. + All adown those empty other tables gleamed +the undisturbed cutlery, and the flowers in the pots +innocently bloomed. And all adown either wall, + + +318 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +unneeded but undisbanded, the scouts remained. +Some of the elder ones stood with closed eyes +and heads sunk forward, now and again jerking +themselves erect, and blinking around, wondering, +remembering. + And for a while this scene was looked down on +by a not disinterested stranger. For a while, her +chin propped on her hands, Zuleika leaned over +the rail of the gallery, just as she had lately +leaned over the barge's rail, staring down and +along. But there was no spark of triumph now +in her eyes; only a deep melancholy; and in her +mouth a taste as of dust and ashes. She thought +of last night, and of all the buoyant life that this +Hall had held. Of the Duke she thought, and of +the whole vivid and eager throng of his fellows +in love. Her will, their will, had been done. But. +there rose to her lips the old, old question that +withers victory -- "To what end?" Her eyes +ranged along the tables, and an appalling sense +of loneliness swept over her. She turned away, +wrapping the folds of her cloak closer across her +breast. Not in this College only, but through +and through Oxford, there was no heart that beat +for her -- no, not one, she told herself, with that +instinct for self-torture which comes to souls in +torment. She was utterly alone to-night in the +midst of a vast indifference. She! She! Was it +possible? Were the gods so merciless? Ah no, +surely. . . + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 319 + + Down at the high table the feast drew to its +close, and very different was the mood of the +feasters from that of the young woman whose +glance had for a moment rested on their unro- +mantic heads. Generations of undergraduates +had said that Oxford would be all very well but +for the dons. Do you suppose that the dons had +had no answering sentiment? Youth is a very +good thing to possess, no doubt; but it is a tire- +some setting for maturity. Youth all around +prancing, vociferating, mocking; callow and alien +youth, having to be looked after and studied and +taught, as though nothing but it mattered, term +after term -- and now, all of a sudden, in mid- +term, peace, ataraxy, a profound and leisured still- +ness. No lectures to deliver to-morrow; no "es- +says" to hear and criticise; time for the unvexed +pursuit of pure learning. . . + As the Fellows passed out on their way to Com- +mon Room, there to tackle with a fresh appetite +Pedby's grace, they paused, as was their wont, +on the steps of the Hall, looking up at the sky, +envisaging the weather. The wind had dropped. +There was even a glimpse of the moon riding be- +hind the clouds. And now, a solemn and plangent +token of Oxford's perpetuity, the first stroke of +Great Tom sounded. + + +XXII + +STROKE by stroke, the great familiar monody of +that incomparable curfew rose and fell in the +stillness. + Nothing of Oxford lingers more surely than it +in the memory of Oxford men; and to one revisit- +ing these groves nothing is more eloquent of that +scrupulous historic economy whereby his own par- +ticular past is utilised as the general present and +future. "All's as it was, all's as it will be," says +Great Tom; and that is what he stubbornly said +on the evening I here record. + Stroke by measured and leisured stroke, the +old euphonious clangour pervaded Oxford, +spreading out over the meadows, along the river, +audible in Iffley. But to the dim groups gather- +ing and dispersing on either bank, and to the silent +workers in the boats, the bell's message came +softened, equivocal; came as a requiem for these +dead. + Over the closed gates of Iffley lock, the water +gushed down, eager for the sacrament of the sea. +Among the supine in the field hard by, there +was one whose breast bore a faint-gleaming star. +And bending over him, looking down at him with + +320 + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 321 + +much love and pity in her eyes, was the shade of +Nellie O'Mora, that "fairest witch," to whose +memory he had to-day atoned. + And yonder, "sitting upon the river-bank o'er- +grown," with questioning eyes, was another shade, +more habituated to these haunts -- the shade +known so well to bathers "in the abandoned +lasher," and to dancers "around the Fyfield elm +in May." At the bell's final stroke, the Scholar +Gipsy rose, letting fall on the water his gathered +wild-flowers, and passed towards Cumnor. + And now, duly, throughout Oxford, the gates +of the Colleges were closed, and closed were the +doors of the lodging-houses. Every night, for +many years, at this hour precisely, Mrs. Batch +had come out from her kitchen, to turn the key in +the front-door. The function had long ago be- +come automatic. To-night, however, it was the +cue for further tears. These did not cease at her +return to the kitchen, where she had gathered +about her some sympathetic neighbours -- women +of her own age and kind, capacious of tragedy; +women who might be relied on; founts of ejacula- +tion, wells of surmise, downpours of remembered +premonitions. + With his elbows on the kitchen table, and his +knuckles to his brow, sat Clarence, intent on be- +lated "prep." Even an eye-witness of disaster +may pall if he repeat his story too often. Clar- +ence had noted in the last recital that he was + + +322 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +losing his hold on his audience. So now he sat +committing to memory the names of the cantons +of Switzerland, and waving aside with a harsh +gesture such questions as were still put to him +by the women. + Katie had sought refuge in the need for "put- +ting the gentlemen's rooms straight," against the +arrival of the two families to-morrow. Duster in +hand, and by the light of a single candle that +barely survived the draught from the open win- +dow, she moved to and fro about the Duke's +room, a wan and listless figure, casting queerest +shadows on the ceiling. There were other can- +dles that she might have lit, but this ambiguous +gloom suited her sullen humour. Yes, I am sorry +to say, Katie was sullen. She had not ceased to +mourn the Duke; but it was even more anger than +grief that she felt at his dying. She was as sure +as ever that he had not loved Miss Dobson; but +this only made it the more outrageous that he had +died because of her. What was there in this +woman that men should so demean themselves +for her? Katie, as you know, had at first been +unaffected by the death of the undergraduates at +large. But, because they too had died for Zu- +leika, she was bitterly incensed against them now. +What could they have admired in such a woman? +She didn't even look like a lady. Katie caught +the dim reflection of herself in the mirror. She +took the candle from the table, and examined the + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 323 + +reflection closely. She was sure she was just as +pretty as Miss Dobson. It was only the clothes +that made the difference -- the clothes and the be- +haviour. Katie threw back her head, and smiled +brilliantly, hand on hip. She nodded reassuringly +at herself; and the black pearl and the pink +danced a duet. She put the candle down, and un- +did her hair, roughly parting it on one side, and +letting it sweep down over the further eyebrow. +She fixed it in that fashion, and posed accordingly. +Now! But gradually her smile relaxed, and a +mist came to her eyes. For she had to admit that +even so, after all, she hadn't just that something +which somehow Miss Dobson had. She put away +from her the hasty dream she had had of a whole +future generation of undergraduates drowning +themselves, every one, in honour of her. She +went wearily on with her work. + Presently, after a last look round, she went +up the creaking stairs, to do Mr. Noaks' room. + She found on the table that screed which her +mother had recited so often this evening. She +put it in the waste-paper basket. + Also on the table were a lexicon, a Thucydides, +and some note-books. These she took and shelved +without a tear for the closed labours they bore +witness to. + The next disorder that met her eye was one +that gave her pause -- seemed, indeed, to transfix +her. + + +324 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + Mr. Noaks had never, since he came to lodge +here, possessed more than one pair of boots. This +fact had been for her a lasting source of annoy- +ance; for it meant that she had to polish Mr. +Noaks' boots always in the early morning, when +there were so many other things to be done, in- +stead of choosing her own time. Her annoyance +had been all the keener because Mr. Noaks' boots +more than made up in size for what they lacked +in number. Either of them singly took more time +and polish than any other pair imaginable. She +would have recognised them, at a glance, any- +where. Even so now, it was at a glance that she +recognised the toes of them protruding from be- +neath the window-curtain. She dismissed the +theory that Mr. Noaks might have gone utterly +unshod to the river. She scouted the hypothesis +that his ghost could be shod thus. By process +of elimination she arrived at the truth. +"Mr. Noaks," she said quietly, "come out of +there." + There was a slight quiver of the curtain; no +more. Katie repeated her words. There was a +pause, then a convulsion of the curtain. Noaks +stood forth. + Always, in polishing his boots, Katie had found +herself thinking of him as a man of prodigious +stature, well though she knew him to be quite +tiny. Even so now, at recognition of his boots, +she had fixed her eyes to meet his, when he should + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 325 + +emerge, a full yard too high. With a sharp drop +she focussed him. + "By what right," he asked, "do you come pry- +ing about my room?" + This was a stroke so unexpected that it left +Katie mute. It equally surprised Noaks, who had +been about to throw himself on his knees and +implore this girl not to betray him. He was +quick, though, to clinch his advantage. + "This," he said, "is the first time I have caught +you. Let it be the last." + Was this the little man she had so long de- +spised, and so superciliously served? His very +smallness gave him an air of concentrated force. +She remembered having read that all the greatest +men in history had been of less than the middle +height. And -- oh, her heart leapt -- here was the +one man who had scorned to die for Miss Dob- +son. He alone had held out against the folly of +his fellows. Sole and splendid survivor he stood, +rock-footed, before her. And impulsively she +abased herself, kneeling at his feet as at the great +double altar of some dark new faith. + "You are great, sir, you are wonderful," she +said, gazing up to him, rapt. It was the first +time she had ever called him "sir." + It is easier, as Michelet suggested, for a woman +to change her opinion of a man than for him to +change his opinion of himself. Noaks, despite +the presence of mind he had shown a few moments + + +326 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +ago, still saw himself as he had seen himself dur- +ing the past hours: that is, as an arrant little +coward -- one who by his fear to die had put him- +self outside the pale of decent manhood. He had +meant to escape from the house at dead of night +and, under an assumed name, work his passage +out to Australia -- a land which had always made +strong appeal to his imagination. No one, he +had reflected, would suppose because his body was +not retrieved from the water that he had not +perished with the rest. And he had looked to +Australia to make a man of him yet: in Encounter +Bay, perhaps, or in the Gulf of Carpentaria, he +might yet end nobly. + Thus Katie's behaviour was as much an embar- +rassment as a relief; and he asked her in what +way he was great and wonderful. + "Modest, like all heroes!" she cried, and, still +kneeling, proceeded to sing his praises with a so +infectious fervour that Noaks did begin to feel +he had done a fine thing in not dying. After all, +was it not moral cowardice as much as love that +had tempted him to die? He had wrestled with +it, thrown it. "Yes," said he, when her rhapsody +was over, "perhaps I am modest." + "And that is why you hid yourself just now?" + "Yes," he gladly said. "I hid myself for the +same reason," he added, "when I heard your +mother's footstep." + "But," she faltered, with a sudden doubt, + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 327 + +"that bit of writing which Mother found on the +table --" + "That? Oh, that was only a general reflection, +copied out of a book." + "Oh, won't poor Mother be glad when she +knows!" + "I don't want her to know," said Noaks, with +a return of nervousness. "You mustn't tell any +one. I -- the fact is --" + "Ah, that is so like you!" the girl said tenderly. +"I suppose it was your modesty that all this while +blinded me. Please, sir, I have a confession to +make to you. Never till to-night have I loved +you." + Exquisite was the shock of these words to one +who, not without reason, had always assumed that +no woman would ever love him. Before he knew +what he was doing, he had bent down and kissed +the sweet upturned face. It was the first kiss +he had ever given outside his family circle. It +was an artless and a resounding kiss. + He started back, dazed. What manner of man, +he wondered, was he? A coward, piling pro- +fligacy on poltroonery? Or a hero, claiming ex- +emption from moral law? What was done could +not be undone; but it could be righted. He drew +off from the little finger of his left hand that iron +ring which, after a twinge of rheumatism, he had +to-day resumed. + "Wear it," he said. + + +328 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + "You mean --?" She leapt to her feet. + "That we are engaged. I hope you don't think +we have any choice?" + She clapped her hands, like the child she was, +and adjusted the ring. + "It is very pretty," she said. + "It is very simple," he answered lightly. "But," +he added, with a change of tone, "it is very +durable. And that is the important thing. For +I shall not be in a position to marry before I am +forty." + A shadow of disappointment hovered over +Katie's clear young brow, but was instantly +chased away by the thought that to be engaged +was almost as splendid as to be married. + "Recently," said her lover, "I meditated leav- +ing Oxford for Australia. But now that you have +come into my life, I am compelled to drop that +notion, and to carve out the career I had first set +for myself. A year hence, if I get a Second in +Greats -- and I <i>shall</i>" he said, with a fierce look +that entranced her -- "I shall have a very good +chance of an assistant-mastership in a good pri- +vate school. In eighteen years, if I am careful -- +and, with you waiting for me, I <i>shall</i> be careful -- +my savings will enable me to start a small school +of my own, and to take a wife. Even then it +would be more prudent to wait another five years, +no doubt. But there was always a streak of mad- + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 329 + +ness in the Noakses. I say 'Prudence to the +winds!'" + "Ah, don't say that!" exclaimed Katie, laying +a hand on his sleeve. + "You are right. Never hesitate to curb me. +And," he said, touching the ring, "an idea has +just occurred to me. When the time comes, let +this be the wedding-ring. Gold is gaudy -- not at +all the thing for a schoolmaster's bride. It is a +pity," he muttered, examining her through his +spectacles, "that your hair is so golden. A school- +master's bride should -- Good heavens! Those +ear-rings! Where did you get <i>them</i>?" + "They were given to me to-day," Katie fal- +tered. "The Duke gave me them." + "Indeed?" + "Please, sir, he gave me them as a memento." + "And that memento shall immediately be +handed over to his executors." + "Yes, sir." + "I should think so!" was on the tip of Noaks' +tongue, but suddenly he ceased to see the pearls +as trinkets finite and inapposite -- saw them, in a +flash, as things transmutable by sale hereafter +into desks, forms, black-boards, maps, lockers, +cubicles, gravel soil, diet unlimited, and special +attention to backward pupils. Simultaneously, +he saw how mean had been his motive for repu- +diating the gift. What more despicable than +jealousy of a man deceased? What sillier than to + + +330 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +cast pearls before executors? Sped by nothing but +the pulse of his hot youth, he had wooed and won +this girl. Why flinch from her unsought dowry? + He told her his vision. Her eyes opened wide +to it. "And oh," she cried, "then we can be +married as soon as you take your degree!" + He bade her not be so foolish. Who ever heard +of a head-master aged three-and-twenty? What +parent or guardian would trust a stripling? The +engagement must run its course. "And," he said, +fidgeting, "do you know that I have hardly done +any reading to-day?" + "You want to read <i>now -- to-night?</i>" + "I must put in a good two hours. Where are +the books that were on my table?" + Reverently -- he was indeed a king of men -- she +took the books down from the shelf, and placed +them where she had found them. And she knew +not which thrilled her the more -- the kiss he gave +her at parting, or the tone in which he told her +that the one thing he could not and would not +stand was having his books disturbed. + Still less than before attuned to the lugubrious +session downstairs, she went straight up to her +attic, and did a little dance there in the dark. +She threw open the lattice of the dormer-window, +and leaned out, smiling, throbbing. + The Emperors, gazing up, saw her happy, and +wondered; saw Noaks' ring on her finger, and +would fain have shaken their grey heads. + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 331 + + Presently she was aware of a protrusion from +the window beneath hers. The head of her be- +loved! Fondly she watched it, wished she could +reach down to stroke it. She loved him for hav- +ing, after all, left his books. It was sweet to be +his excuse. Should she call softly to him? No, it +might shame him to be caught truant. He had +already chidden her for prying. So she did but +gaze down on his head silently, wondering whether +in eighteen years it would be bald, wondering +whether her own hair would still have the fault of +being golden. Most of all, she wondered whether +he loved her half so much as she loved him. + This happened to be precisely what he himself +was wondering. Not that he wished himself free. +He was one of those in whom the will does not, +except under very great pressure, oppose the con- +science. What pressure here? Miss Batch was +a superior girl; she would grace any station in +life. He had always been rather in awe of her. +It was a fine thing to be suddenly loved by her, +to be in a position to over-rule her every whim. +Plighting his troth, he had feared she would be +an encumbrance, only to find she was a lever. +But - -was he deeply in love with her? How was +it that he could not at this moment recall her fea- +tures, or the tone of her voice, while of deplorable +Miss Dobson, every lineament, every accent, so +vividly haunted him? Try as he would to beat +off these memories, he failed, and -- some very + + +332 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +great pressure here! -- was glad he failed; glad +though he found himself relapsing to the self- +contempt from which Miss Batch had raised him. +He scorned himself for being alive. And again, +he scorned himself for his infidelity. Yet he was +glad he could not forget that face, that voice -- +that queen. She had smiled at him when she +borrowed the ring. She had said "Thank you." +Oh, and now, at this very moment, sleeping or +waking, actually she was somewhere -- she! her- +self! This was an incredible, an indubitable, an +all-magical fact for the little fellow. + From the street below came a faint cry that +was as the cry of his own heart, uttered by her +own lips. Quaking, he peered down, and dimly +saw, over the way, a cloaked woman. + She -- yes, it was she herself -- came gliding to +the middle of the road, gazing up at him. + "At last!" he heard her say. His instinct was +to hide himself from the queen he had not died +for. Yet he could not move. + "Or," she quavered, "are you a phantom sent +to mock me? Speak!" + "Good evening," he said huskily. + "I knew," she murmured, "I knew the gods +were not so cruel. Oh man of my need," she +cried, stretching out her arms to him, "oh heaven- +sent, I see you only as a dark outline against the +light of your room. But I know you. Your name +is Noaks, isn't it? Dobson is mine. I am your + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 333 + +Warden's grand-daughter. I am faint and foot- +sore. I have ranged this desert city in search +of -- of <i>you</i>. Let me hear from your own lips that +you love me. Tell me in your own words --" +She broke off with a little scream, and did not +stand with forefinger pointed at him, gazing, gasp- +ing. + "Listen, Miss Dobson," he stammered, writh- +ing under what he took to be the lash of her irony. +"Give me time to explain. You see me here --" + "Hush," she cried, "man of my greater, my +deeper and nobler need! Oh hush, ideal which +not consciously I was out for to-night -- ideal +vouchsafed to me by a crowning mercy! I sought +a lover, I find a master. I sought but a live youth, +was blind to what his survival would betoken. +Oh master, you think me light and wicked. You +stare coldly down at me through your spectacles, +whose glint I faintly discern now that the moon +peeps forth. You would be readier to forgive +me the havoc I have wrought if you could for +the life of you understand what charm your +friends found in me. You marvel, as at the +skull of Helen of Troy. No, you don't think +me hideous: you simply think me plain. There +was a time when I thought <i>you</i> plain -- you whose +face, now that the moon shines full on it, is seen +to be of a beauty that is flawless without being +insipid. Oh that I were a glove upon that hand, +that I might touch that cheek! You shudder + + +334 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +at the notion of such contact. My voice grates +on you. You try to silence me with frantic though +exquisite gestures, and with noises inarticulate +but divine. I bow to your will, master. Chasten +me with your tongue." + "I am not what you think me," gibbered +Noaks. "I was not afraid to die for you. I love +you. I was on my way to the river this afternoon, +but I -- I tripped and sprained my ankle, and -- and +jarred my spine. They carried me back here. I +am still very weak. I can't put my foot to the +ground. As soon as I can --" + Just then Zuleika heard a little sharp sound +which, for the fraction of an instant, before she +knew it to be a clink of metal on the pavement, +she thought was the breaking of the heart within +her. Looking quickly down, she heard a shrill +girlish laugh aloft. Looking quickly up, she +descried at the unlit window above her lover's a +face which she remembered as that of the land- +lady's daughter. + "Find it, Miss Dobson," laughed the girl. +"Crawl for it. It can't have rolled far, and it's +the only engagement-ring you'll get from <i>him</i>," +she said, pointing to the livid face twisted pain- +fully up at her from the lower window. "Grovel +for it, Miss Dobson. Ask him to step down and +help you. Oh, he can! That was all lies about +his spine and ankle. Afraid, that's what he +was -- I see it all now -- afraid of the water. I + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 335 + +wish you'd found him as I did -- skulking behind +the curtain. Oh, you're welcome to him." + "Don't listen," Noaks cried down. "Don't +listen to that person. I admit I have trifled with +her affections. This is her revenge -- these wicked +untruths -- these -- these --" + Zuleika silenced him with a gesture. "Your +tone to me," she said up to Katie, "is not without +offence; but the stamp of truth is on what you +tell me. We have both been deceived in this +man, and are, in some sort, sisters." + "Sisters?" cried Katie. "Your sisters are the +snake and the spider, though neither of them +wishes it known. I loathe you. And the Duke +loathed you, too." + "What's that?" gasped Zuleika. + "Didn't he tell you? He told me. And I war- +rant he told you, too." + "He died for love of me: d'you hear?" + "Ah, you'd like people to think so, wouldn't +you? Does a man who loves a woman give away +the keepsake she gave him? Look!" Katie +leaned forward, pointing to her ear-rings. "He +loved <i>me</i>," she cried. He put them in with his +own hands -- told me to wear them always. And +he kissed me -- kissed me good-bye in the street, +where every one could see. He kissed me," she +sobbed. "No other man shall ever do that." + "Ah, that he did!" said a voice level with +Zuleika. It was the voice of Mrs. Batch, who + + +336 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +a few moments ago had opened the door for her +departing guests. + "Ah, that he did!" echoed the guests. + "Never mind them, Miss Dobson," cried +Noaks, and at the sound of his voice Mrs. Batch +rushed into the middle of the road, to gaze up. +"<i>I</i> love you. Think what you will of me. I --" + "You!" flashed Zuleika. "As for you, little +Sir Lily Liver, leaning out there, and, I frankly +tell you, looking like nothing so much as a gar- +goyle hewn by a drunken stone-mason for the +adornment of a Methodist Chapel in one of the +vilest suburbs of Leeds or Wigan, I do but felici- +tate the river-god and his nymphs that their water +was saved to-day by your cowardice from the con- +tamination of your plunge." + "Shame on you, Mr. Noaks," said Mrs. Batch, +"making believe you were dead --" + "Shame!" screamed Clarence, who had darted +out into the fray. + "I found him hiding behind the curtain," +chimed in Katie. + "And I a mother to him!" said Mrs. Batch, +shaking her fist. "'What is life without love?' +indeed! Oh, the cowardly, underhand --" + "Wretch," prompted her cronies. + "Let's kick him out of the house!" suggested +Clarence, dancing for joy. + Zuleika, smiling brilliantly down at the boy, +said "Just you run up and fight him!" + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 337 + + "Right you are," he answered, with a look of +knightly devotion, and darted back into the house. + "No escape!" she cried up to Noaks. "You've +got to fight him now. He and you are just about +evenly matched, I fancy." + But, grimly enough, Zuleika's estimate was +never put to the test. Is it harder for a coward +to fight with his fists than to kill himself? Or +again, is it easier for him to die than to endure +a prolonged cross-fire of women's wrath and +scorn? This I know: that in the life of even the +least and meanest of us there is somewhere one +fine moment -- one high chance not missed. I like +to think it was by operation of this law that Noaks +had now clambered out upon the window-sill, +silencing, sickening, scattering like chaff the women +beneath him. + He was already not there when Clarence +bounded into the room. "Come on!" yelled the +boy, first thrusting his head behind the door, then +diving beneath the table, then plucking aside either +window-curtain, vowing vengeance. + Vengeance was not his. Down on the road +without, not yet looked at but by the steadfast +eyes of the Emperors, the last of the undergradu- +ates lay dead; and fleet-footed Zuleika, with her +fingers still pressed to her ears, had taken full toll +now. + + +XXIII + +TWISTING and turning in her flight, with wild eyes +that fearfully retained the image of that small +man gathering himself to spring, Zuleika found +herself suddenly where she could no further go. + She was in that grim ravine by which you ap- +proach New College. At sight of the great shut +gate before her, she halted, and swerved to the +wall. She set her brow and the palms of her +hands against the cold stones. She threw back +her head, and beat the stones with her fists. + It was not only what she had seen, it was what +she had barely saved herself from seeing, and +what she had not quite saved herself from hear- +ing, that she strove so piteously to forget. She +was sorrier for herself, angrier, than she had been +last night when the Duke laid hands on her. Why +should every day have a horrible ending? Last +night she had avenged herself. To-night's out- +rage was all the more foul and mean because of +its certain immunity. And the fact that she had +in some measure brought it on herself did but whip +her rage. What a fool she had been to taunt +the man! Yet no, how could she have foreseen +that he would -- do <i>that?</i> How could she have + + +338 + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 339 + +guessed that he, who had not dared seemly death +for her in the gentle river, would dare -- +<i>that?</i> + She shuddered the more as she now remem- +bered that this very day, in that very house, she +had invited for her very self a similar fate. What +if the Duke had taken her word? Strange! she +wouldn't have flinched then. She had felt no +horror at the notion of such a death. And thus +she now saw Noaks' conduct in a new light -- saw +that he had but wished to prove his love, not at +all to affront her. This understanding quickly +steadied her nerves. She did not need now to +forget what she had seen; and, not needing to +forget it -- thus are our brains fashioned -- she +was able to forget it. + But by removal of one load her soul was but +bared for a more grievous other. Her memory +harked back to what had preceded the crisis. She +recalled those moments of doomed rapture in +which her heart had soared up to the apoca- +lyptic window -- recalled how, all the while she was +speaking to the man there, she had been chafed by +the inadequacy of language. Oh, how much more +she had meant than she could express! Oh, the +ecstasy of that self-surrender! And the brevity +of it! the sudden odious awakening! Thrice in +this Oxford she had been duped. Thrice all that +was fine and sweet in her had leapt forth, only +to be scourged back into hiding. Poor heart + + +340 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +inhibited! She gazed about her. The stone alley +she had come into, the terrible shut gate, were for +her a visible symbol of the destiny she had to put +up with. Wringing her hands, she hastened along +the way she had come. She vowed she would +never again set foot in Oxford. She wished her- +self out of the hateful little city to-night. She +even wished herself dead. + She deserved to suffer, you say? Maybe. I +merely state that she did suffer. + Emerging into Catherine Street, she knew +whereabouts she was, and made straight for +Judas, turning away her eyes as she skirted the +Broad, that place of mocked hopes and shattered +ideals. + Coming into Judas Street, she remembered the +scene of yesterday -- the happy man with her, the +noise of the vast happy crowd. She suffered in +a worse form what she had suffered in the gallery +of the Hall. For now -- did I not say she was +not without imagination? -- her self-pity was +sharpened by remorse for the hundreds of homes +robbed. She realised the truth of what the poor +Duke had once said to her: she was a danger in +the world . . . Aye, and all the more dire now. +What if the youth of all Europe were moved by +Oxford's example? That was a horribly possible +thing. It must be reckoned with. It must be +averted. She must not show herself to men. She +must find some hiding-place, and there abide. + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 341 + +Were this a hardship? she asked herself. Was +she not sickened for ever of men's homage? And +was it not clear now that the absorbing need in +her soul, the need to love, would never -- except +for a brief while, now and then, and by an unfor- +tunate misunderstanding -- be fulfilled? + So long ago that you may not remember, I +compared her favourably with the shepherdess +Marcella, and pleaded her capacity for passion as +an excuse for her remaining at large. I hope you +will now, despite your rather evident animus +against her, set this to her credit: that she did, +so soon as she realised the hopelessness of her +case, make just that decision which I blamed Mar- +cella for not making at the outset. It was as she +stood on the Warden's door-step that she decided +to take the veil. + With something of a conventual hush in her +voice, she said to the butler, "Please tell my maid +that we are leaving by a very early train to-mor- +row, and that she must pack my things to-night." + "Very well, Miss," said the butler. "The +Warden," he added, "is in the study, Miss, and +was asking for you." + She could face her grandfather without a +tremour -- now. She would hear meekly whatever +reproaches he might have for her, but their sting +was already drawn by the surprise she had in +store for him. + It was he who seemed a trifle nervous. In his + + +342 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + "Well, did you come and peep down from the +gallery?" there was a distinct tremour. + Throwing aside her cloak, she went quickly to +him, and laid a hand on the lapel of his coat. +"Poor grand-papa!" she said. + "Nonsense, my dear child," he replied, disen- +gaging himself. "I didn't give it a thought. If +the young men chose to be so silly as to stay away, +I -- I --" + "Grand-papa, haven't you been told <i>yet</i>?" + "Told? I am a Gallio for such follies. I +didn't inquire." + "But (forgive me, grand-papa, if I seem to +you, for the moment, pert) you are Warden here. +It is your duty, even your privilege, to <i>guard</i>. Is +it not? Well, I grant you the adage that it is +useless to bolt the stable door when the horse has +been stolen. But what shall be said of the ostler +who doesn't know -- won't even 'inquire' whether +-- the horse <i>has</i> been stolen, grand-papa?" + "You speak in riddles, Zuleika." + "I wish with all my heart I need not tell you +the answers. I think I have a very real grievance +against your staff -- or whatever it is you call your +subordinates here. I go so far as to dub them +dodderers. And I shall the better justify that +term by not shirking the duty they have left un- +done. The reason why there were no under- +graduates in your Hall to-night is that they were +all dead." + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 343 + + "Dead?" he gasped. "Dead? It is disgrace- +ful that I was not told. What did they die of?" + "Of me." + "Of you?" + "Yes. I am an epidemic, grand-papa, a +scourge, such as the world has not known. Those +young men drowned themselves for love of me." + He came towards her. "Do you realise, girl, +what this means to me? I am an old man. For +more than half a century I have known this Col- +lege. To it, when my wife died, I gave all that +there was of heart left in me. For thirty years +I have been Warden; and in that charge has +been all my pride. I have had no thought but +for this great College, its honour and prosperity. +More than once lately have I asked myself +whether my eyes were growing dim, my hand less +steady. 'No' was my answer, and again 'No.' +And thus it is that I have lingered on to let Judas +be struck down from its high eminence, shamed +in the eyes of England -- a College for ever +tainted, and of evil omen." He raised his head. +"The disgrace to myself is nothing. I care not +how parents shall rage against me, and the Heads +of other Colleges make merry over my decrepi- +tude. It is because you have wrought the down- +fall of Judas that I am about to lay my undying +curse on you." + "You mustn't do that!" she cried. "It would +be a sort of sacrilege. I am going to be a nun. + + +344 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +Besides, why should you? I can quite well under- +stand your feeling for Judas. But how is Judas +more disgraced than any other College? If it +were only the Judas undergraduates who +had --" + "There were others?" cried the Warden. "How +many?" + "All. All the boys from all the Colleges." + The Warden heaved a deep sigh. "Of course," +he said, "this changes the aspect of the whole +matter. I wish you had made it clear at once. +You gave me a very great shock," he said sinking +into his arm-chair, "and I have not yet recovered. +You must study the art of exposition." + "That will depend on the rules of the convent." + "Ah, I forgot that you were going into a con- +vent. Anglican, I hope?" + Anglican, she supposed. + "As a young man," he said, "I saw much of +dear old Dr. Pusey. It might have somewhat +reconciled him to my marriage if he had known +that my grand-daughter would take the veil." He +adjusted his glasses, and looked at her. "Are +you sure you have a vocation?" + "Yes. I want to be out of the world. I want +to do no more harm." + He eyed her musingly. "That," he said, "is +rather a revulsion than a vocation. I remember +that I ventured to point out to Dr. Pusey the +difference between those two things, when he was + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 345 + +almost persuading me to enter a Brotherhood +founded by one of his friends. It may be that +the world would be well rid of you, my dear child. +But it is not the world only that we must con- +sider. Would you grace the recesses of the +Church?" + "I could but try," said Zuleika. + "'You could but try' are the very words Dr. +Pusey used to me. I ventured to say that in such +a matter effort itself was a stigma of unfitness. +For all my moods of revultion, I knew that my +place was in the world. I stayed there." + "But suppose, grand-papa" -- and, seeing in +fancy the vast agitated flotilla of crinolines, she +could not forbear a smile -- "suppose all the young +ladies of that period had drowned themselves for +love of you?" + Her smile seemed to nettle the Warden. "I +was greatly admired," he said. "Greatly," he +repeated. + "And you liked that, grand-papa?" + "Yes, my dear. Yes, I am afraid I did. But I +never encouraged it." + "Your own heart was never touched?" + "Never, until I met Laura Frith." + "Who was she?" + "She was my future wife." + "And how was it you singled her out from the +rest? Was she very beautiful?" + "No. It cannot be said that she was beautiful. + + +346 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +Indeed, she was accounted plain. I think it was +her great dignity that attracted me. She did not +smile archly at me, nor shake her ringlets. In +those days it was the fashion for young ladies to +embroider slippers for such men in holy orders +as best pleased their fancy. I received hundreds +-- thousands -- of such slippers. But never a pair +from Laura Frith." + "She did not love you?" asked Zuleika, who +had seated herself on the floor at her grand- +father's feet. + I concluded that she did not. It interested +me very greatly. It fired me." + "Was she incapable of love?" + "No, it was notorious in her circle that she had +loved often, but loved in vain." + "Why did she marry you?" + "I think she was fatigued by my importunities. +She was not very strong. But it may be that she +married me out of pique. She never told me. I +did not inquire." + "Yet you were very happy with her?" + "While she lived, I was ideally happy." + The young woman stretched out a hand, and +laid it on the clasped hands of the old man. He +sat gazing into the past. She was silent for a +while; and in her eyes, still fixed intently on his +face, there were tears. + "Grand-papa dear" -- but there were tears in +her voice, too. + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 347 + + "My child, you don't understand. If I had +needed pity --" + "I do understand -- so well. I wasn't pitying +you, dear, I was envying you a little." + "Me? -- an old man with only the remembrance +of happiness?" + "You, who have had happiness granted to you. +That isn't what made me cry, though. I cried +because I was glad. You and I, with all this +great span of years between us, and yet -- so won- +derfully alike! I had always thought of myself +as a creature utterly apart." + "Ah, that is how all young people think of +themselves. It wears off. Tell me about this +wonderful resemblance of ours." + He sat attentive while she described her heart +to him. But when, at the close of her confidences, +she said, "So you see it's a case of sheer heredity, +grand-papa," the word "Fiddlesticks!" would out. + "Forgive me, my dear," he said, patting her +hand. "I was very much interested. But I do +believe young people are even more staggered +by themselves than they were in my day. And +then, all these grand theories they fall back on! +Heredity. . . as if there were something to baffle +us in the fact of a young woman liking to be +admired! And as if it were passing strange of +her to reserve her heart for a man she can respect +and look up to! And as if a man's indifference to +her were not of all things the likeliest to give + + +348 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +her a sense of inferiority to him! You and I, +my dear, may in some respects be very queer +people, but in the matter of the affections we are +ordinary enough." + "Oh grand-papa, do you really mean that?" +she cried eagerly. + "At my age, a man husbands his resources. +He says nothing that he does not really mean. +The indifference between you and other young +women is that which lay also between me and +other young men: a special attractiveness. . . +Thousands of slippers, did I say? Tens of thous- +ands. I had hoarded them with a fatuous pride. +On the evening of my betrothal I made a bonfire +of them, visible from three counties. I danced +round it all night." And from his old eyes darted +even now the reflections of those flames. + "Glorious!" whispered Zuleika. "But ah," +she said, rising to her feet, "tell me no more of +it -- poor me! You see, it isn't a mere special at- +tractiveness that <i>I</i> have. <i>I</i> am irresistible." + "A daring statement, my child -- very hard to +prove." + "Hasn't it been proved up to the hilt to-day?" + "To-day? . . Ah, and so they did really all +drown themselves for you? . . Dear, dear! . . +The Duke -- he, too?" + "He set the example." + "No! You don't say so! He was a greatly- +gifted young man -- a true ornament to the Col- + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 349 + +lege. But he always seemed to me rather -- what +shall I say? -- inhuman . . . I remember now that +he did seem rather excited when he came to the +concert last night and you weren't yet there. . . +You are quite sure you were the cause of his +death?" + "Quite," said Zuleika, marvelling at the lie -- +or fib, rather: he had been <i>going</i> to die for her. +But why not have told the truth? Was it possible, +she wondered, that her wretched vanity had sur- +vived her renunciation of the world? Why had +she so resented just now the doubt cast on that +irresistibility which had blighted and cranked her +whole life? + "Well, my dear," said the Warden, "I confess +that I am amazed -- astounded." Again he ad- +justed his glasses, and looked at her. + She found herself moving slowly around the +study, with the gait of a <i>mannequin</i> in a dress- +maker's show-room. She tried to stop this; but +her body seemed to be quite beyond control of +her mind. It had the insolence to go ambling +on its own account. "Little space you'll have +in a convent cell," snarled her mind vindictively. +Her body paid no heed whatever. + Her grandfather, leaning back in his chair, +gazed at the ceiling, and meditatively tapped the +finger-tips of one hand against those of the other. +"Sister Zuleika," he presently said to the ceiling. + "Well? and what is there so -- so ridiculous + + +350 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +in" -- but the rest was lost in trill after trill of +laughter; and these were then lost in sobs. + The Warden had risen from his chair. "My +dear," he said, "I wasn't laughing. I was only -- +trying to imagine. If you really want to retire +from --" + "I do," moaned Zuleika. + "Then perhaps --" + "But I don't," she wailed. + "Of course, you don't, my dear." + "Why, of course?" + "Come, you are tired, my poor child. That is +very natural after this wonderful, this historic +day. Come dry your eyes. There, that's better. +To-morrow --" + "I do believe you're a little proud of me." + "Heaven forgive me, I believe I am. A grand- +father's heart -- But there, good night, my +dear. Let me light your candle." + She took her cloak, and followed him out to +the hall table. There she mentioned that she +was going away early to-morrow. + "To the convent?" he slyly asked. + "Ah, don't tease me, grand-papa." + "Well, I am sorry you are going away, my +dear. But perhaps, in the circumstances, it is +best. You must come and stay here again, later +on," he said, handing her the lit candle. "Not +in term-time, though," he added. + "No," she echoed, "not in term-time." + + +XXIV + +FROM the shifting gloom of the stair-case to the +soft radiance cast through the open door of her +bedroom was for poor Zuleika an almost heart- +ening transition. She stood awhile on the thres- +hold, watching Mélisande dart to and fro like a +shuttle across a loom. Already the main part of +the packing seemed to have been accomplished. +The wardrobe was a yawning void, the carpet was +here and there visible, many of the trunks were +already brimming and foaming over . . . Once +more on the road! Somewhat as, when beneath +the stars the great tent had been struck, and the +lions were growling in their vans, and the horses +were pawing the stamped grass and whinnying, +and the elephants trumpeting, Zuleika's mother +may often have felt within her a wan exhilaration, +so now did the heart of that mother's child rise +and flutter amidst the familiar bustle of "being +off." Weary she was of the world, and angry she +was at not being, after all, good enough for some- +thing better. And yet -- well, at least, good-bye +to Oxford! + She envied Mélisande, so nimbly and cheerfully +laborious till the day should come when her be- + +351 + + +352 ZULEIKA DOBSON + +trothed had saved enough to start a little café +of his own and make her his bride and <i>dame de +comptoir</i>. Oh, to have a purpose, a prospect, a +stake in the world, as this faithful soul had! + "Can I help you at all, Mélisande?" she asked, +picking her way across the strewn floor. + Mélisande, patting down a pile of chiffon, +seemed to be amused at such a notion. "Made- +moiselle has her own art. Do I mix myself in +that?" she cried, waving one hand towards the +great malachite casket. + Zuleika looked at the casket, and then very +gratefully at the maid. Her art -- how had she +forgotten that? Here was solace, purpose. She +would work as she had never worked yet. She +<i>knew</i> that she had it in her to do better than she +had ever done. She confessed to herself that +she had too often been slack in the matter of +practice and rehearsal, trusting her personal mag- +netism to carry her through. Only last night +she had badly fumbled, more than once. Her +bravura business with the Demon Egg-Cup had +been simply vile. The audience hadn't noticed it, +perhaps, but she had. Now she would perfect +herself. Barely a fortnight now before her en- +gagement at the Folies Bergères! What if -- no, +she must not think of that! But the thought in- +sisted. What if she essayed for Paris that which +again and again she had meant to graft on to her +repertory -- the Provoking Thimble? + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 353 + + She flushed at the possibility. What if her +whole present repertory were but a passing phase +in her art -- a mere beginning -- an earlier man- +ner? She remembered how marvellously last +night she had manipulated the ear-rings and the +studs. Then lo! the light died out of her eyes, +and her face grew rigid. That memory had +brought other memories in its wake. + For her, when she fled the Broad, Noaks' win- +dow had blotted out all else. Now she saw again +that higher window, saw that girl flaunting her +ear-rings, gibing down at her. "He put them in +with his own hands!" -- the words rang again in +her ears, making her cheeks tingle. Oh, he had +thought it a very clever thing to do, no doubt -- +a splendid little revenge, something after his own +heart! "And he kissed me in the open street" -- +excellent, excellent! She ground her teeth. And +these doings must have been fresh in his mind +when she overtook him and walked with him to +the house-boat! Infamous! And she had then +been wearing his studs! She drew his attention +to them when -- + Her jewel-box stood open, to receive the jewels +she wore to-night. She went very calmly to it. +There, in a corner of the topmost tray, rested the +two great white pearls -- the pearls which, in one +way and another, had meant so much to her. + "Mélisande!" + "Mademoiselle?" + + +354 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + "When we go to Paris, would you like to make +a little present to your fiancé?" + "Je voudrais bien, mademoiselle." + "Then you shall give him these," said Zuleika, +holding out the two studs. + "Mais jamais de la vie! Chez Tourtel tout +le monde le dirait millionaire. Un garçon de café +qui porte au plastron des perles pareilles -- +merci!" + Tell him he may tell every one that they +were given to me by the late Duke of Dorset, +and given by me to you, and by you to him." + "Mais --" The protest died on Mélisande's +lips. Suddenly she had ceased to see the pearls +as trinkets finite and inapposite -- saw them as +things presently transmutable into little marble +tables, bocks, dominos, absinthes au sucre, shiny +black portfolios with weekly journals in them, +yellow staves with daily journals flapping from +them, vermouths sec, vermouths cassis . . . + "Mademoiselle is too amiable," she said, tak- +ing the pearls. + And certainly, just then, Zuleika was looking +very amiable indeed. The look was transient. +Nothing, she reflected, could undo what the Duke +had done. That hateful, impudent girl would +take good care that every one should know. "He +put them in with his own hands." <i>Her</i> ear-rings! +"He kissed me in the public street. He loved +me". . . Well, he had called out "Zuleika!" + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 355 + +and every one around had heard him. That was +something. But how glad all the old women +in the world would be to shake their heads and +say "Oh, no, my dear, believe me! It wasn't +anything to do with <i>her</i>. I'm told on the very best +authority," and so forth, and so on. She knew he +had told any number of undergraduates he was +going to die for her. But they, poor fellows, +could not bear witness. And good heavens! If +there were a doubt as to the Duke's motive, why +not doubts as to theirs? . . But many of them +had called out "Zuleika!" too. And of course any +really impartial person who knew anything at +all about the matter at first hand would be sure +in his own mind that it was perfectly absurd to +pretend that the whole thing wasn't entirely and +absolutely for her . . . And of course some of +the men must have left written evidence of their +intention. She remembered that at The Mac- +Quern's to-day was a Mr. Craddock, who had +made a will in her favour and wanted to read it +aloud to her in the middle of luncheon. Oh, +there would be proof positive as to many of the +men. But of the others it would be said that they +died in trying to rescue their comrades. There +would be all sorts of silly far-fetched theories, +and downright lies that couldn't be disproved. . . + "Mélisande, that crackling of tissue paper is +driving me mad! Do leave off! Can't you see +that I am waiting to be undressed?" + + +356 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + The maid hastened to her side, and with quick +light fingers began to undress her. "Made- +moiselle va bien dormir -- ca se voit," she purred. + "I shan't," said Zuleika. + Nevertheless, it was soothing to be undressed, +and yet more soothing anon to sit merely night- +gowned before the mirror, while, slowly and +gently, strongly and strand by strand, Mélisande +brushed her hair. + After all, it didn't so much matter what the +world thought. Let the world whisper and insinu- +ate what it would. To slur and sully, to belittle +and drag down -- that was what the world always +tried to do. But great things were still great, +and fair things still fair. With no thought for the +world's opinion had these men gone down to the +water to-day. Their deed was for her and them- +selves alone. It had sufficed them. Should it +not suffice her? It did, oh it did. She was a +wretch to have repined. + At a gesture from her, Mélisande brought to a +close the rhythmical ministrations, and -- using +no tissue paper this time -- did what was yet to +be done among the trunks. + "<i>We</i> know, you and I," Zuleika whispered to +the adorable creature in the mirror; and the +adorable creature gave back her nod and smile. + <i>They</i> knew, these two. + Yet, in their happiness, rose and floated a +shadow between them. It was the ghost of that + + +ZULEIKA DOBSON 357 + +one man who -- <i>they</i> knew -- had died irrelevantly, +with a cold heart. + Came also the horrid little ghost of one who +had died late and unseemly. + And now, thick and fast, swept a whole multi- +tude of other ghosts, the ghosts of all them who, +being dead, could not die again; the poor ghosts +of them who had done what they could, and could +do no more. + No more? Was it not enough? The lady in +the mirror gazed at the lady in the room, re- +proachfully at first, then -- for were they not sis- +ters? -- relentingly, then pityingly. Each of the +two covered her face with her hands. + And there recurred, as by stealth, to the lady in +the room a thought that had assailed her not long +ago in Judas Street . . . a thought about the +power of example . . . + And now, with pent breath and fast-beating +heart, she stood staring at the lady of the mirror, +without seeing her; and now she wheeled round +and swiftly glided to that little table on which +stood her two books. She snatched Bradshaw. + We always intervene between Bradshaw and +any one whom we see consulting him. "Made- +moiselle will permit me to find that which she +seeks?" asked Mélisande. + "Be quiet," said Zuleika. We always repulse, +at first, any one who intervenes between us and +Bradshaw. + + +358 ZULEIKA DOBSON + + We always end by accepting the intervention. +"See if it is possible to go direct from here to +Cambridge," said Zuleika, handing the book on. +"If it isn't, then -- well, see how one <i>does</i> get +there." + We never have any confidence in the intervener. +Nor is the intervener, when it comes to the point, +sanguine. With mistrust mounting to exasper- +ation Zuleika sat watching the faint and frantic +researches of her maid. + "Stop!" she said suddenly. "I have a much +better idea. Go down very early to the station. +See the station-master. Order me a special train. +For ten o'clock, say." + Rising, she stretched her arms above her head. +Her lips parted in a yawn, met in a smile. With +both hands she pushed back her hair from her +shoulders, and twisted it into a loose knot. Very +lightly she slipped up into bed, and very soon she +was asleep. + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Zuleika Dobson, by Max Beerbohm* + |