^>'>'*.-*n>V\^ 
 
 i 
 
■f^^ 
 
 % 
 
THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 A NOVEL 
 
 BY 
 
 GILLAN YASE 
 
 A novel is a subjective epopee, wherein the author 
 begs permission to treat the world after his fashion: 
 the question therefore is, has he a fashion ? the rest 
 icill atte)id to itself — Goethe 
 
 IN THEEE VOLUMES 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON 
 SMITH, ELDEE, & CO., 15 WATERLOO PLACE 
 
 1889 
 
 [-■1// ri'jhls reserved'] 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/throughlovetolif01vase 
 

 CONTENTS 
 
 OP 
 
 THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 -•<>*- 
 
 ^ CHAPTER PAGB 
 ^■^ I. ROWS 1 
 
 II. MY FIRST LOVE 17 
 
 III. A COMMON PERSON BENEATH CRITICISM . . .35 
 
 • ^ IV. BALLYACORA HALL 46 
 
 A ; V. LIFE AND ITS ATTRACTIONS 63 
 
 ^ VI. PRINCE AND DAME DE COMPAGNIE . . . . 76 
 
 VII. UN GRAND PETIT HOMME 87 
 
 VIII. GRACIEUSE 98 
 
 o^ IX. A COTELETTE, A CAT, AND A CAPTAIN . . .112 
 
 \ 
 
 X. JOSEF AUFDERMAUER 1?8 
 
 •^^^ 
 
 ^. XI. THE REASON WHY HO 
 
 XII. THE FOHN 158 
 
 XIII. A NEW THERESE 168 
 
 XIV. MY LITTLE MISTRESS 18 1 
 
 XY. THEKESE 204 
 
vi THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 XVI. A SOLEMN VOW 221 
 
 XVII. IN THE SCHENKSTUBE 227 
 
 XVIII. A BLOW FOR A KISS 243 
 
 XIX. UNSOLVED PROBLEMS 253 
 
 XX. PROSIT ! 271 
 
 XXI. ' DOWN TO PENZANCE ' 290 
 
THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ROWS. 
 I spell my name with the Y. — Esmond. 
 
 It was a quarter to seven when the row began 
 — ^just before dinner-time. 
 
 Notice that I say the row. A row was as 
 common in our house as — sa}^ in Ireland, or 
 in the Chamber of Deputies in France. ^4 
 row wouldn't have been worth recordino^. 
 
 But this row taught me two or three thin^^s, 
 whicli I never afterwards forgot. 
 
 Is it not something for a man to learn — a 
 man in futuro, for I had been but recentlj^ 
 
 (^ VOL. I. B 
 
2 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 breeched — that woman is as False as she is 
 Fair'^ and that fathers and mothers may beP — 
 well, never mind what ! 
 
 I was in the hall. Let me confess the 
 truth. I had been robbing my parents of 
 sundry pears and sundry bunches of grapes, 
 and conscience had driven me into a recess 
 behind a naked and extremely chubby boy in 
 white marble, who was always aiming at every 
 one who passed him with a bow and arrow. 
 Down behind him I crouched, waiting for an 
 opportunity to escape. 
 
 I was rather interested in this boy, for 
 mamma's friends used to say that I was very 
 like him (when mamma was there), and used 
 to poke their fingers in my cheeks and pull 
 my curls, and call me 'a little love,' and ask 
 me how many / meant to shoot when I 
 began. 
 
 I wondered how many he shot. I never 
 saw him hit anybody myself, but Therese, 
 
ROWS 3 
 
 mamma's French maid, said he did sometimes. 
 And she was all dimples and white teeth when 
 I asked her, and sobbing before she had 
 answered, lier pretty hand upon her bosom as 
 if a sudden pain had sprung up there and was 
 more than she could bear. 
 
 ' Did he ever hit you, Therese? ' I asked. 
 
 ' Hit me ? Oh, but he is foolish, the little 
 one ! He is always hitting me, my little 
 monsieur.' 
 
 ' When, Therese ? ' 
 
 ' All the da3's, petit. When men smile at 
 me, and they do sometimes^ why I — I feel a 
 pain here, and that is his arrow.' 
 
 She was showing all her pearls again. 
 
 ' Does he hit you when I put my arms 
 round your neck and tell you that I love you 
 better than anyone in the world? — no, not 
 better than mj nurse,' I added, with a great 
 feeling of compunction. 
 
 ' See how he knows already how to make 
 
 B 2 
 
4 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 love, the little one,' laughed Therese. ' Wait 
 till you are a man, mon enfant^ and break 
 hearts then.' 
 
 ' Is it good to break hearts ? Papa whips 
 me sometimes when I break other thincrs.' 
 
 ' Good ? I do not know. It is very easy 
 and hien drole ; funny, you call it ; and it makes 
 you laugh, and the other cry. That is why I 
 laugh and cry and sing and dance : Tra, la, la, 
 la, la. L'amour — But what can a hehe like 
 you know about love ? ' 
 
 Very little, I dare say. But as she laughed, 
 I felt a sharp, sharp pain in the spot where 
 my heart wen^ pit-a-pat, keen as an arrow. 
 I looked up in sudden passion to the 
 marble image, still levelling his bow — yet 
 with a difference. Some effect of falling lialit 
 or shade had changed his arch smile into a 
 cruel sneer. 
 
 Having introduced you to Therese, let me 
 go back to the row. 
 
ROWS 5 
 
 From my hiding-place I had a good view 
 of the staircase, and could also see every door 
 leading into the hall. To my right was my 
 father's room, the oaken door liidden behind 
 another covered with baize which swung to 
 and fro on noiseless hinges. Beyond that was 
 the dining-room, its door slightly ajar, as I 
 had left it when I had fled before William and 
 the butler with my booty. For I had been 
 tempted down into these lower regions as our 
 first mother was tempted — by lust after 
 forbidden fruit. 
 
 I was looking earnestly into this room in 
 order to take advantage of the first oppor- 
 tunity for escape. The butler's calm face was 
 discomposed ; he had found out the disarrange- 
 ment of his dishes, and was, no doubt, inwardly 
 swearing revenge. I watched him repair the 
 breaches I had made, noiselessly putting the 
 master-touch to the tout ensemble , while William 
 stood at liis side, possibly profiting from the 
 
6 • THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 lesson he was receiving, but with a far-away 
 look in his honest blue eyes and a pallor over 
 his usually ruddy cheek, hardly like the 
 visible and outward signs of inward satis- 
 faction. 
 
 ' The de'il tak' him,' muttered the butler, 
 who was a Scotchman ; ' my finest pears and 
 juiciest bunch of grapes ! ' 
 
 Of course. Did he think I'd risk my 
 reputation for nothing ? 
 
 ' Cruel and heartless,' murmured William, 
 ' and yet so pretty, so pretty.' 
 
 I was a pretty boy — I had been told that 
 many and many a time (by mamma's friends 
 principally) — but cruel and heartless ! O'ho, 
 William, look out for nips ! ' 
 
 And then they turned together and my 
 opportunity was come. 
 
 But no ! a footfall on the stairs. A sweet 
 saucy face appearing above the banister. I 
 slunk back again into my corner. I couldn't 
 
ROWS 7 
 
 trust Therese. She might connive at my 
 escape or might betray me, just according to 
 her humour. 
 
 Her humour was dangerous now. Iler 
 eyehds were reddened, and in the centre of 
 each pale cheek burned a crimson spot ; yet 
 out of her brown eyes flashed a hght so 
 intense that the staircase seemed illuminated 
 with it, and her mouth was wreathed witli 
 dimples. Somebody had angered Therese, 
 and somebody was going to get punished 
 for it. 
 
 She came down the broad oaken steps 
 slowly ; her shapely little head erect and 
 haughty, her smiling lips quivering a little. 
 As she passed the statue behind which I was 
 crouching, she turned her sparkling eyes full 
 upon it, clenched her little fist, and laughed. 
 Then more quickly, and with an air of 
 passionate resolution, she passed on to my 
 father's room, pulled open the baize-covered 
 
8 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 door, and rapped sharply upon the oaken one 
 behind it — once, twice. 
 
 My father himself appeared in answer to 
 the summons. 
 
 As she raised her beautiful, agitated face 
 to his red, pompous, overbearing one, I felt 
 rather than saw that a second spectator had 
 appeared upon the scene. A second heart 
 began to beat in quick unison with mine. 
 
 ' What is it ? ' said my father. 
 
 ' It is madanie who has bidden me to go,' 
 answered the girl, sobbing. ' It is madame 
 who has raised the foot to kick me out 
 of the house. Is it that I am a slave to 
 lick the dust at madame's bidding ? I am 
 come to say my adieux to monsieur. Je 
 111 en vais! 
 
 ' No, you don't,' said my father. 
 
 ' I am sensible of the kindness of mon- 
 sieur,' continued Therese ; ' I have a heart — I. 
 And then le petit w'^^ cry after me. But I have 
 
J^OIVS 9 
 
 my lionour too, and " slut " and '' hussy " are 
 words that stick Hke pitch and burn hke fire. 
 Je men vais' 
 
 As she uttered these words for the second 
 time, the shadow of a sound fell over my ears 
 and deafened them. Was it Eros himself 
 crying out in tones of smothered agony, 
 ' Therese ! Therese ! Mamsell Therese ! ' ? 
 
 I saw my father's arm around her waist, 
 and her face raised to his with a maddenincr 
 look upon it — a look full of simulated coyness 
 and sly invitation, and then 
 
 And then the grapes in my hand turned 
 sour as vinegar, and the pears in my trouser- 
 pockets heavy as lead. 
 
 The row was at its fiercest when I became 
 conscious of it. There was a rustle of silken 
 skirts, a stamping of heavy feet, hoarse 
 threatenings, and through all, the sharp sound 
 of a woman's voice, envenomed with bitter 
 sarcasm and biting innuendo. It ended with 
 
lo THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 the usual wind-up of hysterics, during which 
 my mother was carried away prostrate. 
 
 Yet, thoucrh she fasted and my father 
 dined, the victory was hers, and I knew it as 
 well as anyone. 
 
 I was no longer afraid of discovery. 
 Pain had driven out fear. I walked boldly 
 into the dinincr-room, and sittin<y down in a 
 corner half hidden by a heavy silken curtain, 
 watched my father dine. The butler watched 
 him too, and so did William. 
 
 He didn't seem to enjoy his dinner much, 
 I thought. He took it, as I took medicine, 
 in great gulps, vfashing all down with copious 
 draughts of wine. Once he broke out into a 
 furious passion, dashing a full wineglass on 
 to the table, and staining the white damask 
 deep red with its contents. 
 
 The dinner was over at last. It seemed a 
 lon£^ time before the butler and William went 
 away, but they went finally. And then he 
 
J^OWS II 
 
 gave up trying to seem not to care. He 
 leaned his head upon his hand, so that I could 
 see the silver threads runnino^ throuc^h his 
 hair, and groaned and struck the table witli 
 his fist until all tlie crystal on it trembled. 
 
 I had been feeling towards him like a 
 judge towards a criminal; now my mind 
 suddenly changed its attitude. We were 
 both wronf^^doers and both suflerinof. 
 
 ' Papa,' I said, ' papa !.' 
 
 He looked up with a start; then his blood- 
 shot eye brightened, the heavy frown passed 
 away from his forehead, and his lips parted to 
 a smile. 
 
 ' Hoighty-toighty ! ' he said; 'you there, 
 little mannikin ? ' 
 
 We were both wrongdoers and botli 
 sufferino^, nevertheless I had a burning word 
 to say, and meant to say it. Yet my resolu- 
 tion was falterimr fast. He was lookins: at me 
 witli a piteous longing in his eyes — a longing 
 
12 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 I knew how to interpret. He was not over- 
 sensitive, but the sharp, bitter words of his 
 wife might have wounded a tougher-skinned 
 nature even than his, and he was bleeding 
 inwardly. He wanted a morsel of the only 
 cure for heart wounds. He was hungering 
 for a fragment of love. 
 
 Yet I hung back still, even though he put 
 out both red, hard, beringed hands, and 
 would fain have drawn me to his knee. 
 
 ' Have a drop of wine, my boy ? ' 
 
 Child-like, I abandoned the weapon I held 
 to grasp the one he offered. I cried out in 
 a passion, born of the conflict within me. 
 
 'It is wine makes you so red and ugly, 
 and I hate it.' 
 
 He half rose and clenched his fist. I drew 
 back, involuntarily ducking my head to avoid 
 the blow I expected. 
 
 But he only laughed, repeating my words 
 as if they had been a joke. 
 
1^0 JVS 13 
 
 ' Makes me red and ugly, does it ? Very 
 well, you sha'n't have wine if you don't like 
 it. You shall have some fin's. Ein^ the bell 
 and bid the lazy brutes bring you some figs.' 
 
 ' I don't want anything to eat, papa. I 
 only want to tell you ' 
 
 'Well?' 
 
 ' That ' 
 
 'Well?' 
 
 ' That ' And in spite of all my efforts 
 
 I burst out a-crying. 
 
 ' Good gracious, what's the matter ? Tell 
 me what it is, my boy. Everything I have is 
 yours. I've been working all my life that you 
 may have everything you want.' 
 
 ' But I want ' 
 
 ' Speak out, don't be afraid.' 
 
 A certain sense of childish dignity came 
 now to my aid. I wiped my eyes, drew up 
 my head, straightened my back, and spoke 
 out like a man. 
 
14 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 ' I want Therese. I love her. I shall be a 
 man some day, and I am going to marry her.' 
 
 If I had sprung up suddenly into a man 
 before his eyes, he could not have looked 
 more confounded. Then the humour of ^the 
 thins struck him. He burst into a loud fit 
 of laughter, and laughed until the tears ran 
 down his cheeks. 
 
 ' You are beginning early, young man.' 
 
 I resented his ridicule almost as much as 
 I had resented the foregoing insult. There 
 was no danger of my crying now. My heart 
 was swelling high, but it was with pride and 
 indignation. My body seemed to swell with it. 
 
 ' And I don't want — I don't choose,' I added 
 haughtily, ' that anyone shall kiss her but me. 
 William is only a servant. You have got 
 mamma, and ought to be content.' 
 
 My argument was simple and childlike 
 enough. But it led him back into the old 
 track, wherein his soul liad been wandering 
 
jROWS 15 
 
 SO drearily. He seemed to forget — he might 
 well forget — that he was speaking to a child. 
 
 ' Yes,' he repeated, ' I've got mamma, and 
 I ought to be content. And she's no French 
 adventuress, come from nowhere, and owned 
 by nobody, but a baronet's daughter, and I 
 ought to be more than content. And she 
 leads me the life of a — a baronet's dauf^hter's 
 husband, and I ought to be most content. So 
 I am ! So I am ! ' 
 
 But he looked like a wild and furious 
 animal as he got up and paced the room, and 
 he looked like an animal bruising its head 
 against the bars of its cage, when he brought 
 his fist again into thundering contact with the 
 mahogany. 
 
 ' I was once an adventurer myself,' he con- 
 tinued, 'and might have been a different man if 
 she — I mean, I might have remained one of a 
 beggarly lot. But now I'm Charles Smythe, 
 Esquire — with the Y, remember ! And they 
 
i6 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 know me well on 'Change. And I could buy 
 up hundreds of pauper baronets and bankrupt 
 lords. And I'm a greater man than I ever 
 hoped to be. And I ought to be content. 
 Good God ! so I am ! ' 
 
 He had forgotten that I was there until 
 he caught sight of me, pale and terror- 
 stricken. 
 
 ' Go back to your nurse,' he cried, like a 
 man beside himself, ' and learn from her to 
 be a better man than your father.' 
 
17 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 MY FIRST LOVE. 
 
 Aber die Natur behauptet mit Nachdruck ihre Recbte, und 
 da sie niemals •^■illkiirlich fordert, so ninimt sie, uubefriedigt, 
 auch keine ForderuDpf zuriick. 
 
 ScHiLLEK {Anmuth und Wiirde). 
 
 NoTWiTUSTANDiNG my opposition, and notwith- 
 standing my father's, Therese had to go the 
 next day, and, to add to my bewilderment 
 and dismay and despair, WilUam went with 
 her. 
 
 There had been a deep, deep reason for 
 that indignant clause in my reproach to my 
 father : ' William is only a servant ' — a reason 
 so profound that my childish brain only just 
 perceived, and had not yet grasped and 
 defined, it. Surely he could not be my rival 
 
 VOL. I. C 
 
i8 THROUGH LOVE TO UFE 
 
 — he, tlie only man in the house who ever 
 found fault with Therese, the only one wlio 
 never told her how light her step was, nor 
 how glossy her wavy hair, nor how bright 
 were her dark eyes, nor how round and 
 smooth her neck, nor how enchanting her 
 dimples. Other men said these things, for the 
 saying of which I cordially hated them (I felt, 
 but could not express), and only William 
 never did. 
 
 Yet a secret instinct showed me that his 
 blame meant more than their praise, his 
 pained look of disapproval more than their 
 flattery. Sometimes, behind her back, these 
 sycophants would laugli at Therese, calhng 
 her a spoiled chit, a minx, a heartless French 
 coquette, and the like, while Wilham would 
 keep indignant silence or break out into 
 indignant defence, always saying that she was 
 a deal better — a thousand times better — than 
 she would appear. 
 
MV FIRST LOVE 19 
 
 And once I was witness to a scene between 
 these two which tended to make my fleeting 
 impression into a permanent, yet still incom- 
 prehensible, one. 
 
 It was evening, I remember, and my nurse 
 was putting my little sisters to bed, while I 
 was intent on finishing a second Tower of 
 Babel. I was alone in the day nursery, laying 
 my bricks to the time of a tune my nurse was 
 humming in the room adjoining, and wonder- 
 ing as I built which voice was the sweeter — 
 hers or Therese's, and which of the two I 
 really loved the best. 
 
 Thinking of Therese, I began to fancy I 
 could hear her light step on the landing out- 
 side, a heavier one following it. I put down 
 the brick in my hand and listened intently ; 
 and now I distinctly heard a low, sweet, 
 mocking laugh and a scuffle ; then a cry of 
 
 anger. 
 
 I ran to the door, opened it and looked out. 
 
 '2 
 
20 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 I knew it was Therese, yet it was not 
 William whom I had expected to see beside 
 her, nor had I ever fancied him with his arm 
 around her waist and his hand close to her 
 crimson cheek. 
 
 ' Has he been beating you, Therese ? ' I 
 asked. 
 
 She was laughing, showing all her white 
 teeth and dimples as she pushed him from 
 her, yet for all that she was in a furious 
 passion, her eyes flashing and her bodice 
 rising and falling like the waves of an angry 
 sea. 
 
 ' Has he been beating you ? ' I repeated in 
 my wisdom and knowledge of human nature, 
 and I ran to stroke her red cheek and lay my 
 own against it. 
 
 ' Yes, he has, he has ! ' she cried violently, 
 pushing me from her, striking the air with 
 her outstretched hands, and all in a tremble 
 from head to foot. ' He has no right to do it. 
 
MV FIRST LOVE 21 
 
 Frn not a nun to be shut up in a convent. I'm 
 not eighty yet, to liave done with Ufe and 
 be ready to die. I'm only a girl, and I want 
 pleasure and sweetness and freedom. I will 
 have what I want. I will, I will I ' 
 
 It was odd to see how rapidly her speech 
 passed on into action, and how emphatic the 
 action made her Avords. When she spoke of 
 not being a nun, she drew her wliite apron 
 over her head and across her dimpled chin, 
 making you scorn the absurd idea with her- 
 self. When comparing her own blooming 
 youth to eighty, she wrinkled her smooth 
 forehead, humped her straight back, and drew 
 in her full red lips, shocking you almost as 
 much as if the simulated change had been real. 
 When she had declared that she would have 
 enjoyment and sweetness and liberty, she had 
 raised her longing eyes and parted her coral 
 lips as if about to taste heavenly nectar. With 
 that bright flush upon her usually pale cheek 
 
22 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 she had looked then like a female Dionysus — 
 goddess of pleasure and the lust of it. 
 
 I turned angrily towards Wilham. How 
 could I know, child that I was, whether she 
 were claiming a divine right or stretching' forth 
 impious hands to clutch a gift from the altar ? 
 I only knew that she was beautiful, that her 
 beauty made my heart ache, and every fibre 
 in me vibrate, and that I loved her. 
 
 I turned towards William and saw in his 
 face the same feeling animating mine, only 
 intensified. For while in me it was as child- 
 like as my body, in him it was in the full 
 strength of its manhood. 
 
 ' Therese, Therese ! ' he cried ; ' Mamsell 
 Therese ! ' 
 
 I faltered. I still propounded the foolish 
 question upon my lips, but I did so now fully 
 conscious that the answer would be beyond me. 
 
 ' Why did you beat Therese ? ' I asked. 
 ' IIow dared you beat her ? ' 
 
MV FIRST LOVE 23 
 
 Before he could answer, a gentle but firm 
 summons to my nursery forced me to give 
 up the riddle or find an answer to it myself. 
 But before leavinf]^ the two I saw a sicfht 
 which so complicated it that I was forced to 
 abandon the idea of a solution in despair. 
 
 I saw that incomprehensible Therese, who 
 had been twisting the corner of her white 
 apron into a hard knot and mercilessly lashing 
 her pretty fingers with the same, suddenly 
 dart forward, throw herself upon her knees 
 before the footman, and, taking his hard hand, 
 press it to her lips. Then she vanished down 
 the staircase, leaving William still standing 
 there, like a husre imac^e carved in stone. 
 
 Heisfhho ! There are thinf^s in this world 
 hard to understand ! 
 
 It w^as the day after the row that William 
 and Therese came together into my nursery 
 to say good-bye to me and to my nurse. 
 
24 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 Oh, that nursery, wherein much bread was 
 cast upon the waters, many good seeds sown, 
 which seemed long lost among the tares, but 
 which, I humbly hope, eventually bore some 
 good fruit — I can fancy myself there again, 
 high up among the chimneypots, and see 
 again its one smoke-stained window looking 
 out upon them, its one solitary unframed print 
 representing the rich man feasting with his 
 boon companions and sick Lazarus at his 
 gates, its one worn leather-covered easy-chair, 
 wherein sat the house's (guardian ans^el — the 
 one righteous being, I have since thought, who 
 saved us from destruction ! 
 
 For the weather outside in the dark heart 
 of the City of London was not more un- 
 pleasantly variable than was the weather 
 within. Inside too there was the change from 
 storm to apathetic calm, from darkness un- 
 relieved to darkness visible, from falling rain 
 to fog impenetrable. Two things we never 
 
MV FIRST LOVE 25 
 
 had — the bow of Hope and the sunshine ; or 
 rather only in that one warm heart, where they 
 were no flitting lodgers but perpetual in- 
 mates. 
 
 It was a wild and stormy day in late 
 autumn when Therese went away. A fierce, 
 dry wind was raging through the City, making 
 the windows rattle again and bringing clouds 
 of dust against our house. Inside there had 
 been a fresh row, and some of its angry breath 
 had risen up to us. Even my nurse sighed a 
 little as she sat rocking the baby in the cradle, 
 and her mouth twitched at the corners as it 
 did when she was o^rieved. 
 
 They came in together side by side, William 
 and Therese, and even I was struck by the 
 contrast they presented, the girl's beauty 
 seeming more delicate and lovely than ever 
 compared with the man's strong, square sturdi- 
 ness, her petulancy painfully in dissonance 
 with his great gentleness. I remember his 
 
26 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 wanting to relieve her of some trifle, and the 
 sharp way in which she declined his help, as 
 clearly as if it happened yesterday. 
 
 Therese was in a dozen different moods as 
 usual, and it was impossible to say which mood 
 was the dominant one. She had been cryinji, 
 for her trim bodice still rose and fell convulsively, 
 yet she was laughing too as merrily as if grief 
 were the best joke in the world. She had just 
 spoken so sharply to William that the tears 
 had sprung into my nurse's eyes, and now she 
 looked up into his face and touched his arm 
 in a manner which made the simple action like 
 a passionate caress. 
 
 ' I am come to saymyadieux,'she said in her 
 rich, soft, full contralto voice. ' Monsieur talks 
 like a man, but madame has gained the victory 
 as ever. Madame will have to paint herself 
 for the future, or o-et an Eno-lishwoman to do 
 it. Bon Dieu^ une Anglaise ! ' 
 
 How she manan-ed it heaven knows, but 
 
MV FIRST LOVE 27 
 
 for a second slie stood there transformed 
 before us ; her round shoulders squared, hei* 
 bright eyes half-veiled in ostentatious mock- 
 modesty, her mobile French mouth drawn 
 down at the corners, her smoothly fitting 
 dress creased and angular. Nay, even her 
 hair seemed to participate in the change, and 
 to fall around her graceful head in stifTer 
 curls than usual. lu the twinkling of an 
 eye she had become an Englishwoman — the 
 typical Englishwoman of the Parisian stage. 
 
 ' How funny you look ! ' said little 
 Florence. 
 
 We all laughed — it was impossible to help 
 it. Even William smiled. 
 
 'Ah, you do not like your countrywomen, 
 you prefer Therese,' said the minx, becoming 
 herself airain with a sins^le toss of her saucy 
 head. ' But I must go, and all because of the 
 jealousy of a woman. Now, I am not jealous — 
 moi^ I never was.' 
 
28 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 ' You have no need,' said William. 
 
 'Who spoke to you, sir?' she returned, 
 flashing round upon him ; ' who wants to 
 know what you think about it ? I never 
 forget but you try to make me remember. I 
 am never happy but you try to make me 
 miserable. I never taste a good thing but 
 you snatch it from my lips. Why was I ever 
 born ? Why didn't le hon Dieu make me old 
 and hateful and ugly ? ' 
 
 She was sobbing now, her face buried in 
 her hands, her body trembling with the 
 violence of her emotion. 
 
 ' Hush, hush, my dear ! ' interposed my 
 nurse gently, rocking the cradle in which 
 slept my youngest sister, little Aileen. ' Those 
 are rough words, and cruel too, when offered 
 in exchange for a great gift — a gift worth 
 every other in the world,' she added, the tears 
 starting to her eyes. 
 
 William's ruddy face was pale as death, 
 
MV FIRST LOVE 29 
 
 and his broad back bent as if there were 
 an unseen load upon it almost insupport- 
 able. 
 
 ' You, you are an angel,' sobbed the girl, 
 falling upon her knees and resting her head 
 upon my nurse's lap. ' You ought to be in 
 heaven, instead of here where it is hell. When 
 I pray to the blessed Mother of God, it is 
 your dear patient face I seem to see, your 
 faithful breast, pierced as hers was. Bless 
 me, bless me before I go.' 
 
 ' God bless you, my child,' said my nurse, 
 ' and teach you the difference between gold 
 and dross.' 
 
 ' Amen,' said William. 
 
 ' As for that,' cried Therese, springing to 
 her feet again, ' as for that, there may be two 
 opinions. I've got a ring, old-fashioned and 
 ugly, . which is pure gold, and I've got a 
 bracelet — le voila I — only gilded, but I like 
 the bracelet best.' 
 
30 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 My nurse was silent ; William turned away 
 his head to cough. 
 
 ' Je prefere hien le bracelet,' she continued 
 defiantly, throwing back her loose sleeve and 
 disclosing an arm wliich entranced even me, 
 and at which William gazed as if spellbound. 
 Regardez I it is pretty, is it not ? I think 
 it is pretty myself — so firm, so soft, so 
 round, so dimpled.' She stroked it and 
 touched it with her lips. ' And the bracelet 
 looks well upon it. Vous trouvez ? It isn't 
 gold, but nobody knows that, and the ring is 
 ugly, and I can't sell it because it was left me 
 by my grandmother for good luck. But I 
 believe in these ' — raisins^ her round arms as^ain 
 — ' much more than in luck. Therefore I 
 prefer the bracelet. Je le jyrefere hien.' 
 
 What a cough William had, to be sure, 
 and how it shook him ! 
 
 ' As for madame,' continued Therese, pout- 
 ing, yet dimpling too, ' she is as foolish as she 
 
MV FIRST LOVE 31 
 
 is old and ugly. Does slie think I would have 
 let that great, fat, ugly husband of hers kiss 
 me ? Thank heaven, I'm not so hard driven 
 up for kisses as that ! I've no need to go 
 begging for them. He wanted a. kiss — ha ! — 
 and got a soufflet! 
 
 'But you did let him kiss you,' I cried, all 
 my anger reawakened, ' you did' 
 
 She laughed, and made as if she would 
 have kissed me, and laughed louder still when 
 I drew back in a rage. 
 
 ' I want you all to myself,' I said ; ' I don't 
 want to kiss you if you kiss others too. Go 
 away — No, don't go ; you shall not go.' 
 
 ' Yoila ! ' she answered, looking at me with 
 dancing eyes, ' the little one is jealous also. 
 He has inherited it.' 
 
 ' Where are you going ? ' interrupted my 
 nurse, more sternly than I ever heard her 
 speak before. 
 
 ' Going ? Oh, there are a liundred places 
 
32 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 where I can go. I'm not so homeless as 
 madame thinks. I've got better blood in my 
 veins than she has. And / was never sold to 
 pay my father's debts. Oh, the grand name 
 Smythe ! the lordly name of Smythe ! Coeur 
 cheri' — and here she sank upon her knees 
 again — ' I know who you are, and I'd rather 
 have a hair of your dear head than all their 
 riches.' 
 
 'You are a heap, heap better, Mamsell 
 Therese,' interposed Wilham, ' than you'd 
 have us fur to think. Other folk builds 
 'emselves up, but you pulls yourself down 
 perpetual.' 
 
 ' There you go again,' she cried, on her 
 feet like a Hash of lightning. ' Why do you 
 make me bad when I am crood ? I want to be 
 good sometimes. I am a mechante Jille, I 
 know it ; yet sometimes I want to be good.' 
 
 She was crying loudly a^rain, and William 
 was cous^hinfT and there was a re^i^ular 
 
 tj tJ ' CD 
 
MV FIRST LOVE 33 
 
 hubbub in the nursery, for the baby had been 
 awakened, and was joining lustily in the 
 chorus. As for me, I naturally made what 
 little noise I could, with my arms round 
 Therese's waist, the while I told her, firstly, 
 that she should never go, and then, that I 
 would come after her and marry her and 
 bring her back in triumpli. I don't know 
 what else I might have said but for a piece of 
 tofiy, exceedingly sticky, which was suddenly 
 thrust into my mouth, and which completely 
 disabled me. But I ran after them down into 
 the hall, and saw Therese spring into the 
 coach, and William get in after her, coughing 
 still. 
 
 Then, just when I had abandoned hope, 
 and made sure she wouldn't, Therese turned 
 her lovely face and looked at me. All trace 
 of grief had gone out of it, and it was bright 
 and smihng. Nay, I am not quite sure that it 
 was not full of fun at my expense. I heard a 
 
 VOL. I. D 
 
34 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 silvery laugh as they drove off, and a sweet 
 fresh voice carolling a French chanson. I 
 recognised the air, and even the words, long 
 years afterwards. 
 
 ' Tra, la, la,' sang Therese, with one break- 
 ing heart beside her and another breaking 
 heart left behind : — 
 
 ' Tra, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, 
 L' Amour vous attend la.' 
 
 As if she knew, as if she ever could learn, 
 the cruel enchantress, what Love meant ! 
 
35 
 
 CHAPTEE in. 
 
 A COMMOJ^ PERSON BENEATH CRITICISM. 
 
 Es hort doch jeder nur, was er versteht. 
 
 Goethe (Sprilche in Prosa). 
 
 Only a footDian and a lady's-maid ! for what 
 was Tlierese after all, in spite of her airs and 
 graces — what was she but a lady's-maid, 
 forced to brush my mother's hair, paint my 
 mother's face, submit to my mother's whims, 
 and take my mother's wages ? What differ- 
 ence did it make that she could take a sweet 
 revenge along with these things, by many a 
 side glance over my mother's head into the 
 mirror, smiling a little as if she were trium- 
 phantly comparing nature and art ? 
 
 Only a footman and a lady's-maid ! while 
 
36 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 I was Charles Reginald Smythe (with the Y, 
 remember !), only son to one of the richest 
 men in the City, and, as my father told me a 
 hundred times, getting on tip-toe to say it, 
 for he was but short and the sum vast and 
 majestic, heir to a million — me-illion ! 
 
 Yet for all the apparent chasm between 
 us, the destinies of these two were iri*etriev- 
 ably interwoven with mine. Fate plays us 
 queer tricks ; sometimes making of our own 
 most cherished hopes knotted cords where- 
 with to scourge us ; sometimes fashioning a 
 lifeboat of our fears, which may become our 
 only refuge from the shipwreck of our 
 hopes. 
 
 I was born in London, and if I may trust 
 my own memory in regard to that important 
 event, I was born in a row. If you will not 
 trust my memory in this respect, you will 
 allow me to draw conclusions, I suppose, and 
 my conclusions all agree as to the extreme 
 
A COMMON PERSON 37 
 
 probability of tliis premiss. For why else 
 should rows from my very earliest infancy 
 have come as natural to me as my bottle ? 
 
 I suppose too that neither rows nor bottle 
 agreed with me particularly. I think I ran 
 the gauntlet of every disease incidental to 
 childhood before I was two years old, having 
 a very turbulent special row of my own with 
 Death on each occasion. And I am quite 
 sure that he, like my mother, would inevit- 
 ably have had the best of it, but for one 
 faithful champion who fought for me, and 
 who would without the least hesitation have 
 supplied a failing bolt to bar him out with 
 ]ier own tender arm, as another did before 
 her. 
 
 Need I say that this champion was a 
 woman .^ For it is the women alone who, 
 doing some of the hardest and least rewarded 
 work of this world, let others have the credit 
 of it. 
 
38 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 I was baptized in a row. The dispute as 
 to whether my name should be Charles, after 
 my father, or Eeginald, after the hero of the 
 last romance my mother had been reading, 
 was continued even at the font, and only 
 settled by the impatient clergyman, who cut 
 the Gordian knot by christening me with 
 both. 
 
 Thus I became duly registered and 
 catalogued among my fellow-creatures, and 
 in course of time grew into the knowledge 
 that I was I — a little centre around which 
 the universe naturally revolved. 
 
 Once — heaven knows what prompted me 
 to the effort ! — I tried to love my mother. I 
 had got into her boudoir somehow, and was 
 sitting on a low footstool near the couch on 
 which she was reclining, watching her hand 
 whereon diamonds glittered, as it lazily turned 
 the pages of a novel she was reading. Her 
 eyebrows were very black, and her cheeks 
 
A COMMON PERSON 39 
 
 very pink, and her lips even redder than 
 tliose of Tlierese. 
 
 I sat there watching her, my heart grow- 
 ing fuller every moment, my lip beginning to 
 tremble, as I thought of the Bible stories my 
 nurse had told me — of Hasrar and Ishmael. of 
 Eebecca and Jacob, of Hannah and Samuel. 
 Surely those veiling lids must cover eyes able 
 to look at me differently than with the cold look 
 to which I was accustomed ; surely the warm 
 colour on the cheeks must be the reflex of 
 something warmer underneath ! 
 
 The next moment I was clinging to her, 
 crying passionately, my wet lips on hers, the 
 hot drops from my eyes washing away the 
 rosy flush I had thought so beautiful, and 
 revealinof nothincr underneath it but a cold 
 and sickly pallor. 
 
 I never tried to love my mother again. 
 She murdered even the wish as she threw me 
 off and sat up upon the couch, her face ghastly 
 
40 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 pale except for patches of red upon her lips, 
 and streaks of the same colour, fringed with 
 yellow, on her cheek. 
 
 I was not crying as I scrambled to my feet 
 again, though I had knocked my head against 
 the footstool and bruised my arm. My white 
 frock was crushed and stained, my curls were 
 hopelessly out of order, and my cheek was 
 burning, but I was not crying. 
 
 For a moment I stood and she sat, both 
 of us lookino^ at one another. Then I cried 
 out to go back to my nurse, and she cried out 
 to her maid to take me there. That night I 
 woke up from sleep, trembling. Again I saw 
 as in a vision the semblance of a woman's face 
 crowned with a mountain of hair. Its colour 
 was a sickly yellow stained with red ; its eyes 
 were wide open and dilated — full of dread as 
 if they were looking upon death. So they 
 were — upon the corpse of filial love. 
 
 But that another supplied the places of 
 
A COMMON PERSON 41 
 
 both father cand mother, I should, in spite of 
 my heirship, have been a wretched little 
 pauper indeed. 
 
 She was nothing particular to look at, that 
 dear nurse of ours. A little woman, neat and 
 unpretending as a Quakeress, with the patient 
 peace in her face which you may oftenest see 
 in the face of such an one — peace which was 
 not the result of want of trial, but the result 
 of having come out of it. ' These are they 
 which came out of great tribulation.' Such 
 are the Bible words which recur to my 
 memory when I think of her. 
 
 For she had come out of it. The deep 
 lines in her face had been graven there by 
 sorrow, yet the peace spread over all made 
 them so beautiful that you would not willingly 
 have missed one. Her eyes were blue and 
 gentle, the smile in them softened by the 
 shadows of many shed tears ; her mouth still 
 retained a nervous twitch which it had ac- 
 
42 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 quired during some supreme trial ; her hands 
 were the large, strong hands of a worker ; 
 her hair of a pale yellow, soft as silk. This 
 hair, I fancy, was something like a thorn in 
 the flesh to her, it beinsf in a constant state 
 of rebelhon against. the severe discipline to 
 which it was subjected. However deter- 
 minately combed back in the mornings under 
 the high mob cap she wore (in which cap, 
 bluebottles used to get and hum, to my 
 intense delight), towards afternoon and even- 
 ing it would break into ripples, curling back 
 in little rings over her broad low forehead in 
 a way I used to think lovely. It was obstinate 
 hair, and, like us children, wouldn't always 
 be trained in the way it should go. Once, I 
 remember, the baby pulled off her cap, and I 
 fancy I see again now the torrent of sunshine 
 which for a moment flooded the sedate shawl 
 she wore crossed over her bosom. 
 
 This woman's name was Smith. She told 
 
A COMMON PERSON 43 
 
 me this once herself in a httle burst of emotion, 
 and with an unusual flash in her gentle eye. 
 And she added quickly that my grandfather 
 had borne it with honour and left it unsullied. 
 It had been good enough for him. 
 
 I inquired why it was not good enough 
 for my father, being still too much of a child 
 to comprehend the gulf which separates Smith 
 from Smythe. 
 
 To which she gave a strange and curious 
 answer, her mouth twitching in the old 
 nervous way and with the same most unusual 
 warmth. 
 
 ' Let the cruel thing that weaned a 
 brother from a sister answer that,' said she. 
 
 I pressed for a still further explanation, 
 this being somewhat enigmatical. 
 
 Continuing the game of cross questions 
 and crooked answers, she further remarked, 
 sobbing now and strongly agitated, that it 
 was offering up of own relations on the shrine 
 
44 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 of Mammoth (I think she said Mammoth, 
 though I don't pretend to know what she 
 meant), which somehow or other had resulted 
 in Smythe, and finally she broke into a fit 
 of crying, all the more terrifying because 
 she cried so seldom, until it became quite as 
 much as I could do to kiss her back to 
 smiles again. 
 
 I remember that the smiles were very 
 watery, and that the gentle bosom upon 
 which I nestled was long agitated. When she 
 put me to bed an hour afterwards, she herself 
 joined audibly with me in one clause of the 
 Lord's Prayer, repeating it with almost pas 
 sionate earnestness. ' Forgive us our tres- 
 passes,' we said together, ' as we forgive them 
 that trespass against us.' 
 
 Even after she had said good-night and 
 snugly tucked me up in my cot, she lingered 
 musingly beside me, finally kneeling down 
 again at the bedside to lay her head upon 
 
A COMMON PERSON 45 
 
 the pillow close to mine ; her hair hope- 
 lessly in confusion, her sunken cheek brightly 
 flushed, her gentle lip trembling. After a few 
 moments of silence she put her mouth close 
 to my ear, and whispered softly that I must 
 forget what she had said, that it was naughty 
 of her to have said it, and that she was sorry. 
 1 nearly had forgotten, in the interest of a 
 wonderful fairy story she had told me since, 
 probably for that very purpose, but this 
 remark of hers, well meant but injudicious — 
 the dear little woman was not wise in her 
 generation, being one of the children of light 
 — brought it all back again, investing it with 
 new importance. I fell asleep murmuring 
 her own words of an hour before : 
 
 ' Let the cruel thing that weaned a brother 
 from a sister answer that.' 
 
46 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 CHAPTER lY. 
 
 BALLYACORA HALL. 
 
 But the child's sob in the silence curses deeper 
 Than the strong man in his wrath. 
 
 Elizabeth B. Beowninq. 
 
 I WAS eiglit years old when we migrated to 
 Bally acora Hall. Two or three other things 
 of almost equal importance occurred about 
 the same period. Firstly, I was promoted 
 to real trousers — real ones, like a man's. 
 Secondly, my curls were cut off. Thirdly, I 
 became owner of a live pony and a live groom, 
 both of whom could wince if 1 whipped 'em. 
 
 Hip, hip, hip ! 
 
 No, I can't for the life of me ! There was 
 a fourthly, which, like Aaron's rod, swallowed 
 
BALLYACORA HALL 47 
 
 up all the others, remaining afterwards as 
 lean and gaunt as ever. 
 
 I had to part with my nurse. All my 
 kickin^i^s and screamincrs and threateninfrs to 
 kill myself lost their potency on this occasion. 
 Why, I learnt afterwards. 
 
 Ballyacora Hall, County Cork, Ireland, 
 had become my father's in some mysterious 
 manner connected with a bankrupt lord, 
 with racecourses, and the devil to pay gene- 
 rally. I picked up this information from 
 scraps of talk which fell from the lips of my 
 elders, piecing them together, while pre- 
 serving every outward sign of complete 
 indifference. 
 
 I also found out in the same manner that, 
 though my maternal grandfather had certainly 
 been a baronet, that high-minded aristocrat 
 had not scrupled to allow his daughter to pay 
 his numerous debts in a way which she called 
 heroic, but which my father styled some- 
 
48 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 thing very different. And a very tough rod, 
 fashioned out of this act, was in constant 
 requisition by my parents for the chastisement 
 of each other. 
 
 But in whatever way Ballyacora Hall be- 
 came the property of my father, it certainly 
 possessed eminently suitable qualities for 
 making a gentleman of his heir. It was so 
 redolent of aristocratic perfume from cellar to 
 attic that you couldn't live in it without im- 
 bibing its odour. The wine vaults had formerly 
 been dungeons, wherein kernes had been tor- 
 tured to death, and there was a recess in the 
 wall still which had once contained, so they 
 said, a human skeleton. Upstairs was an 
 oaken chest, which smelt like a vault, and 
 which had been the burial-place of a noble 
 lady, nailed in there by an offended lord to 
 die at her leisure. And the banqueting, now 
 the entrance, hall still reeked with the legends 
 of former revellers, when the times were ' ijood 
 
BALLYACORA HALL 49 
 
 old times,' and masters were masters and serfs 
 serfs, and women creatures to be dealt with as 
 men chose. What wonder that after sucking 
 in such tales like mother's milk I went out 
 among my dependents to swagger and hector 
 and kick where I could — every evil instinct 
 in me at its strongest, every good one 
 dormant ? 
 
 Thus I grew up to be fourteen years old, 
 a big, handsome, headstrong boy ; my only 
 discipline an occasional thrashing from my 
 father, at times when I deserved it least ; my 
 only mentor an occasional twinge from a con- 
 science, which had been so tenderly fostered 
 in my early childhood that no neglect would 
 quite silence it now. 
 
 It was one of these twinges of conscience 
 which sent me to the top of the house before 
 my .departure for Eton to say good-bye to 
 my neglected sisters, who lived, or sickened 
 
 VOL. I. B 
 
50 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 and died, up there, out of sight and sound 
 and hearing of the denizens below. 
 
 ' Poor httle wretches ! ' I thought, as I 
 mounted stair after stair, ' what a deuce of a 
 way to go up and come down ! By the way, 
 do they ever come down ? ' 
 
 And my heart swelled a little, half with 
 pity, half with complacency at my own 
 superior position — the boy who could not be 
 ignored — the heir who would be lord of all. 
 
 I was directed in my search for the right 
 room by a child's voice and the song of a 
 canary. I opened the door, walked in un- 
 announced, and stood among its inmates. 
 
 My abrupt entrance was the signal for a 
 wild retreat on the part of several long-haired, 
 short-frocked, bare-legged, sticky-mouthed 
 atoms of feminine humanity to the protecting 
 skirts of nurse. Only two remained stationary, 
 the baby in the cradle, (even the slatternly 
 nursemaid rocking it started up aghast at 
 
BALLYACORA HALL 51 
 
 my unexpected appearance) and a little girl 
 in a corner, who continued her singular occu- 
 pation of tearing paper from the wall, with a 
 nonchalance which surprised even me. 
 ' Hullo ! ' I said, ' what's the row ? ' 
 (Eows came so natural to me, you know.) 
 The flock of timid sheep clustered round 
 nurse, looked at me with wide blue eyes, but 
 uttered not a word. The little girl in the 
 corner laughed a harsh, disdainful laugh, most 
 unchildhke. 
 
 ' Oh, 'tis only that they're so naughty and 
 so ill-behaved, sir,' said nurse, a gaunt, bony, 
 scraggy-necked individual, with a sharp voice 
 and sharp red nose. ' Nobody'd think as I took 
 the pains with 'em I do, or that they was 
 clean this morning. Hold your noise, you 
 brute ! ' This last to the canary, which broke 
 out into a shrill, sarcastic whistle. 
 
 Oh, how knowing that bird looked, to be 
 sure 1 How artfully he cocked one bright eye, 
 
 E 2 
 
52 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 first at me and then at nurse ! How cun- 
 ningly lie turned a pirouette on liis perch, 
 coming up wrong side foremost and seeming 
 to be pantomimically saying with his quiver- 
 ing tail, ' Gammon, sir, gammon, all gammon ! ' 
 
 ' That is a lie, Atkinson,' said the little girl 
 in the corner, quietly endorsing the canary, 
 the while she continued her occupation of 
 stripping the wall of its covering. ' You stayed 
 in bed this morning to breakfast and told Sally 
 to dress us, and Sally read her book and told 
 us to dress ourselves. That's the reason we 
 are so dirty, except Florry. Florry would be 
 clean in a pigstye.' 
 
 I don't think anyone in the room drew 
 breath for a few seconds after this speech, ex- 
 cept perhaps the baby. I'm sure the canary 
 didn't, for he stood motionless on his perch, 
 his head drawn into his body and every 
 feather in him standino; out as straight as an 
 arrow. I'm sure / didn't either, for the look 
 
BALLYACORA HALL 
 
 53 
 
 nurse directed towards the back of the daring 
 httle speaker was ahnost murderous. 
 
 ' Is it me or Miss Mabel that's telhniz a 
 he ? ' she gasped, turning to another of tlie 
 children, whom, if I hadn't known it before, I 
 should still have recognised as Florence from 
 her sister's last words. Her pinafore was the 
 only unsoiled one in the room, her trousers 
 were the only ones frilled. Her snowy neck 
 and shoulders, soft, dimpled hands, and rose- 
 tinted cheeks seemed unsoilable. I noticed 
 too that her long, rich brown curls were care- 
 fully brushed and tied back with a ribbon. 
 It was evident that whether anybody else took 
 care of her or not, Florence would take care 
 of herself. She stood among the others, un- 
 stained and soilless, like a dehcate hothouse 
 flower among weeds. 
 
 '' Is it me or is it Miss Mabel ? ' repeated 
 the nurse. 
 
 I watched Florry's blue- veined lids fall 
 
54 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 over her bluer eyes, and saw the rose-tint on 
 her cheek deepen a little. 
 
 ' Florry will say what you wish,' broke in 
 again that fearless voice from the corner ; ' she 
 is afraid of beincr beaten else, or havino^ her 
 ribbon taken away, and Florry loves her own 
 comfort and fine clothes better than the truth. 
 I used to be afraid of you too, but I'm not 
 now. I've made you afraid of me.' 
 
 ' Come out of that corner this minute,' said 
 nurse, now too furious to conceal her wrath 
 any longer. ' Of all spiteful, impish ' 
 
 ' Go on,' said the voice ; ' let Charley hear 
 you, and the nice words you teach us. I'll come 
 out of the corner when I choose ; you put me 
 here for your pleasure, and I shall stay for 
 mine.' 
 
 It was time to put an end to the scene, for 
 nurse's wrath was changing from hot to cold, 
 and a strangled sob made me think with terror 
 of my mother's hysterics. I put out my hand 
 
BALLYACORA HALL 55 
 
 and drew one of tlie weeds towards me — a 
 pretty weed with innocent eyes, a rosebud of 
 a mouth, extremely dirty, and a quantity of 
 rough, unkempt yellow hair hanging behind 
 it. This weed, which had a chubby thumb in 
 its mouth, was my favourite among them — 
 little Irish Aileen. 
 
 ' Come,' I said coaxingly, ' you'll talk to 
 me, won't you ? I'm going away to school, 
 and I sha'n't see you again for ever so long. 
 What's the matter.^ You know who I am, 
 don't you ? ' 
 
 If Aileen's thumb had been soluble, it must 
 have disappeared before my eyes, she sucked 
 it so vigorously. 
 
 ' Miss Aileen, you naughty girl, take your 
 thumb out of jo\xv mouth and answer your 
 brother,' said nurse, glad to hnd a less danger- 
 ous victim, ' or ' 
 
 The ' or ' was sufficient. The thumb came 
 out with a sound like a cork from a bottle. 
 
56 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 and Aileen's cherub lips opened to a lisping 
 ' Yeili.' 
 
 ' Who am I, then ? Don't be frightened,' 
 I said encouragingly. 
 
 Eenewed hesitation, renewed impetus, and 
 the answer came forth again with a burst : 
 
 ' Master Charles.' 
 
 ' What a silly little girl you are ! Say 
 ''Charles.'" 
 
 ' Nurse tails you Master Charles, and says 
 she would like to have the trimming of you.' 
 
 ' Nurse is only a servant — only a common 
 servant,' I replied indignantly, ' but you will 
 be a lady. She calls you Miss Aileen too, 
 doesn't she .^ ' 
 
 ' Thometimes ' — this with a pressure of 
 the baby lips, which shows me that, though 
 Aileen can be awed by nursery discipline, she 
 is still capable of revolt against it — ' and 
 thometimes hussy, and chit, and 'ittle yetch.' 
 
 Aileen is not such a heroine as that other 
 
BALLYACORA HALL 57 
 
 weed in the corner. Her cournge is of a true 
 feminine order ; capable of audacious daring, 
 but rapidly sinking afterwards into profound 
 dismay at its own act. She drew nearer to 
 nie as she spoke, and put her little hand upon 
 my shoulder. 
 
 'Never mind,' I said, breaking the suc- 
 ceeding silence by an embarrassed laugh. 
 ' Tell me what I shall bring you when I 
 come home for the holidays. What would 
 you like, Florence ? Speak. You are the 
 eldest.' 
 
 Florence's blue eye brightened, her breath 
 came a trifle quicker, the lovely colour on her 
 cheek deepened again. 
 
 'Well?' 
 
 ' A pink frock, trimmed with lace,' she 
 said eagerly. 
 
 ''Our last kitten was black, and not all 
 the soap in the world could wash it white,' 
 broke in that uncanny voice from the corner. 
 
58 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 ' But we never tried,' said innocent Aileen ; 
 ' bethides, it would have hurt it.' 
 
 ' And what would you like, Mabel ? ' I 
 asked, and I waited with curiosity for the 
 answer. 
 
 For the first time since I entered the room 
 Mabel turned so that we could see her face. 
 I had often seen it before, of course, but 
 I saw it now with opened eyes and awakened 
 understanding. There was no beauty in it. 
 The forehead was too broad and pronounced 
 for a girl, the temples too bare and promi- 
 nent. Even the keen, sarcastic grey eye 
 looked more dangerous than attractive ; there 
 was a sparkle in it, sharp as the edge of a 
 knife. Her scanty brown hair was close- 
 cropped like a boy's, her long nose slightly 
 crooked ; round her thin straight mouth were 
 lines that would have looked premature in a 
 woman of thirty. Her mouth was expanded 
 and her forehead contracted, yet she was 
 
BALLYACORA HALL 59 
 
 neither smilini:^ nor frowniiii? as she answered 
 me. 
 
 ' What is it to be, Mabel ? ' 
 
 ' A rod for a fool's back,' said the strange 
 girl. 
 
 I don't know why I coloured, nor why I 
 fancied that these words were aimed with 
 special intention, and that their aim was my- 
 self. As if the child knew what she was talk- 
 ing^ about ! Then I turned to Aileen. 
 
 ' Now, my pet, what is your choice ? 
 
 ' Can I have what I want most ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, what you want most.' 
 
 There was a curious agitation in Aileen's 
 little throat, and her blue eyes were filled with 
 tears, and her round mouth was quivering. 
 
 ' Don't cry. You ain't going to cry, are 
 you ? Tell me what you want most.' 
 
 If there had been a recording angel present, 
 he would have had a heavy reckoning to set 
 against my mother's name that moment. The 
 
6o THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 look on tlie child's face was full of iDfinite 
 pathos and infinite reproach. 
 
 She put her arms around my neck and her 
 wet cheek close to mine, and whispered so low 
 that no one else could hear : 
 
 ' Bring me back a new mamma.' 
 
 If there had been a recording angel present, 
 no tear, no ocean of tears, could have blotted 
 out tliat indictment. I had a boy's heart, 
 tough and unimpressible, but the words fell 
 heavy upon it ; they left an indelible wound 
 there, which is angry and throbs still. 
 
 I went away soon after that, after having 
 distributed my sweets and kissed each dirty 
 little mouth, save one. I could not kiss 
 Florence ; she had advanced towards me with 
 so much graceful dignity, that I made her as 
 awkward a bow as I should have done to a 
 grown lady. 
 
 Nurse accompanied me to the door, once 
 more as sweet and slimy as butter-scotcli. 
 
BALLYACORA HALL 6i 
 
 as mellow as tofly. ' How Miss Mabel do put 
 me out to be sure ! ' she said ; ' but there, I 
 never bear malice. My bark's worse than my 
 bite any day.' 
 
 I made no response. When she shut the 
 door I remained a moment on the landing, 
 but there was no sound inside, save the creak- 
 ing of the cradle and the song of the canary. 
 Yet there was an oppressive feel in the silence 
 quite the reverse of reassuring. 
 
 I had ascended the stairs with a vafjue 
 expectation of finding three or four feminine 
 creatures there, looking a little different 
 outwardly but as like as peas within. I had 
 imagined sweets and dolls in the present, 
 dresses and lovers in the future, to be the 
 summit of their ambition. Yet even in that 
 neglected garden each plant was growing 
 according to its nature. Culture might make 
 an apple of the crab, a plum of the sloe, a 
 garden of the hedge-side rose, but it was 
 
62 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 powerless to induce the bramble-bush to 
 put forth figs, or the fig-tree brambles. The 
 characters of those three sisters of mine were 
 as difierent as if they had not sprung from the 
 same root and been cultivated in the same 
 soil — nay, as different as if they had been 
 masculine instead of feminine. My thoughts 
 were crude enough, but I pondered over these 
 things. 
 
 I had found one sister capable of vanity, 
 one capable of sarcasm, one capable of love. 
 
 ' A rod for a fool's back.' Who was rod 
 and who was fool ? Nonsense, pure folly ! 
 
 Yet the words haunted me, recurring again 
 and again like a prophecy. 
 
63 
 
 CHAPTEE y. 
 
 LIFE AND ITS ATTRACTIONS. 
 
 Only deeds give life its strength, and only moderation its 
 charm. — Jean Paul. 
 
 The next day I left home for Eton, went 
 through the usual courses of faomna and 
 flogging there, picked up some scraps of 
 knowledge, the most important of which was 
 perhaps that I was by no means universally 
 acknowledged as the centre of the universe, 
 and finally, after being, as I congratulate 
 myself, rather brilliantly plucked at Oxford 
 after a few years' residence there, came home 
 to celebrate my majority. 
 
 That over, and the discovery made that 
 my sisters were growing into remarkably fine 
 girls ; that there was no other fine girl cir- 
 
64 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 dilating round, not a sister, available for a 
 preliminary flirtation ; that my father was 
 balder, greyer, and more plebeian-looking 
 than ever ; and that my mother was having 
 the worst of it in her daily contest with 
 acre, I came to the definite conclusion that 
 Ballyacora was the dullest place in creation, 
 and life there insupportable. 
 
 This result 1 communicated in the best ol 
 good faith to my father, almost as soon as it 
 was arrived at. 
 
 We were alone together in his sanctum 
 sanctorum, euphemistically called ' the study,' 
 though the only subject studied there was 
 £ s. d. — debit and credit. I was lounging 
 in his easy-chair, the while he stood before 
 me, my sensitive university nose wrinkling 
 in undisguised disgust at the tradesman-like 
 atmosphere of the place, my sensitive hands 
 thrust deep down into my trouser-pocke 
 for fear of contamination. 
 
LIFE AND ITS ATTRACTIONS 65 
 
 ' I can't stand this humdrum place any 
 longer,' I said. ' I want to see Ufe and to 
 enjoy it.' 
 
 ' And so you shall, Charley,' said my 
 father, ' so you shall.' 
 
 There was somethini^^ in the tone of his 
 voice as he spoke which startled me and 
 made me look up ; something as if two voices 
 belonging to two people had melted into one. 
 And yet, though melted, they were separate 
 still, and discordant, and not in unison. 
 
 There was also a double expression in his 
 face as I looked at it. The one half, the 
 usual and dominant expression — the other, a 
 latent and concealed one, long kept in the 
 background, but now breaking irresistibly 
 forth in futile yet hot rebellion. 
 
 And for a moment I recoo-nised the old 
 Enj^lish oak crackincf the varnish which 
 would fain have concealed its existence — the 
 true among the false, his heirloom and mine, 
 
 VOL. I. F 
 
66 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 inherited from a long line of noble an- 
 cestors. 
 
 ' So you sliall,' lie said, ' on one con- 
 dition,' 
 
 ' What is that ? ' 
 
 ' You are my only son,' he continued, 
 wiping his face with a red and yellow silk 
 handkerchief, as if conscious that it was 
 eloquent on its own account and had better 
 be silenced, ' and are heir to a million — a 
 me-illion.' 
 
 I had heard this so often that it seemed 
 as natural and as immutable a law of the 
 universe as that my hair was blond and 
 curly, that my mother read novels per- 
 petually, that the girls were of no importance 
 as compared to me, and that the earth 
 revolved round the sun. 
 
 ' A me-illion,' he continued, one hand on 
 the bulging pocket of his coat, the other 
 jingling loose coin in his breeches pockets, 
 
LIFE AND ITS ATTRACTIONS 67 
 
 ' wasn't earned in a day, no, nor in a month 
 either, nor without sleepless nights and 
 anxious days, and tears of blood, and 
 indignities without number, and insults to be 
 stored up and paid back with usury.' 
 
 As he withdrew his hand from the 
 bulging pocket to draw forth the red and 
 yellow pocket handkerchief again, I almost 
 heard the varnish creak, it split so furiously ; 
 as he wiped away some moisture which had 
 gathered in his eyes, I think that if my 
 moral nature had not been so warped and 
 poisoned, and he the poisoner, I should 
 almost have respected him. As it was, the 
 emotion which for a moment contracted my 
 throat was gone as he revarnished himself 
 and revarnished me. 
 
 ' What is the condition ? ' I asked care- 
 lessly. 
 
 But though I asked, I knew well enough 
 what he meant. It had been talked about a 
 
 F 2 
 
68 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 hundred times. Even the babies in the 
 nursery must have known that I was destined 
 to marriage with a duke's daughter ; to scale 
 the summit of the aristocratic ladder which 
 my father had striven so unsuccessfully to 
 mount himself. 
 
 And I was satisfied on the whole with this 
 condition. I would do what he wished. 
 Only not now, not now ! I must have my fling 
 first. 
 
 ' I've sweated and toiled all for you, my 
 boy,' he went on. ' To make a gentleman of 
 you has been the aim of my life. I was not 
 always Smythe of Bally acora. And if the 
 place is dull to you, don't you think it's dull 
 to me ? don't you think I want a bit of change 
 sometimes ? But I'm willing to give up every- 
 thing else for the sake of the one thing I've 
 set my heart upon. Look at you there, young, 
 rich, handsome, clever — a match for anyone ! ' 
 
 He was looking at me with pride and 
 
LIFE AND ITS ATTRACTIOXS 69 
 
 afTection, and yet his look did not soften, it 
 only hardened me. For my thoughts had 
 sprung back with a sudden rebound to long- 
 forfTotten memories. I saw another face, 
 something like his and yet so different, and 
 heard a voice sayino- ' Let the cruel thin^ 
 that weaned a brother from a sister ansAver 
 that.' 
 
 ' You shall see life,' he said, ' see it at your 
 leisure and with full pockets. I can wait 
 another year or two. And then, my boy, you 
 will come back to fulfil my life's desire and 
 take my place in Ballyacora Hall. 
 
 ' I have always done my duty by you,' he 
 concluded pompously, ' and I shall expect you 
 then to do your duty by me.' 
 
 If occasionally licking me, not for my 
 benefit, but his own relief, if pampering every 
 bad thing within me, if stifling my conscience 
 and pauperising my heart, had been doing 
 that duty, so he had — so he had. As for mine 
 
yo THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 to him, had he never read those divine words: 
 ' What a man soweth, that shall he also 
 reap ? ' 
 
 So we separated. I went upstairs to make 
 preparation for my speedy departure from 
 Bally acora, aided or hindered therein by 
 Aileen, who persisted in wasting oceans of 
 love upon me in spite of my meagre acknow- 
 ledgment of the same, while he remained 
 behind, either encrpossed in the absorbino^ 
 stud}^ of £ s. d. or brooding over his parental 
 programme and its approaching consummation. 
 
 But, lack-a-da}^ ! Fate sometimes plays the 
 dickens with parental programmes. 
 
 I had written to some Oxford friends of 
 mine — friends after my father's own heart, for 
 they were both noble, I mean titled — and 
 informed them that I was coming up to 
 London to see life in their company. After 
 which I dutifully went again to my father's 
 
LIFE AND ITS ATTRACTIONS 71 
 
 study to receive from him certain pieces of 
 paper and his blessing ; thrashed Patsey, my 
 groom, to make him remember, and hand- 
 somely tipped him to make him forget ; ran 
 lip to my mother's boudoir to kiss her, stage- 
 fashion, both of us simultaneously salutin<? the 
 air ; rubbed my sprouting moustache against 
 Aileen's wet little face ; and departed in high 
 feather, leaving the dullest place in creation 
 and my own destiny behind me for an inde- 
 finite period. To ^^outh to-day is everything ; 
 to-morrow, something so far removed as 
 hardly to be worth taking into consideration. 
 Well, I saw life in the company of these 
 noble friends, both of whom sought to find 
 some new bloom upon it from tlie freshness of 
 their companion — saw it, at first, with eager 
 curiosity, quaffing cup after cup of its 
 pleasures with all the insatiability of im- 
 maturity ; then suddenly 1 came to the dregs, 
 and the swallowins^ of them sickened me. 
 
72 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 There was nothing worth Hving for in 
 England ; that was as clearly evident to me 
 as that Bally acora was the dullest place in 
 creation. Again I tried to turn my back 
 upon m3^self, forgetting that whithersoever I 
 went I must carry it with me. 
 
 ' It's une gr ancle ijassion you need,' said 
 the nobler of my two noble friends, Lord 
 George Graceless, who was himself tout epris^ 
 as he called it, with one of the ladies of the 
 ballet. (My other noble friend, Sir Harry 
 Goitt, was already gone — to the dogs.) 
 
 ' I'll go abroad,' I said, ' and try life 
 there.' 
 
 ' If it wasn't for Celestiue, I'd go with 
 you,' sighed his lordship. ' They understand 
 how to live better than we do, over there in 
 France.' 
 
 So I went to France, carrying my malady 
 with me, for I could not leave myself behind. 
 
 And I went to Austria and Spain, and 
 
LIFE AND ITS ATTRACTIONS 73 
 
 finally to Italy, seeking what I could not find 
 — an illusive something which ever danced 
 before me, and the futile search for which 
 led me deeper and deeper into the marshes. 
 
 At last, weary and hopeless, I crossed the 
 mountain barrier and descended into Switzer- 
 land. 
 
 I would spend a few days here, I thought, 
 to try and believe in Nature, if I could, after 
 having lost all faith in man. I wandered on 
 amoncf defiles and over mountains, lookino- 
 up to the snowy summits, all turned towards 
 God, hoping that up there at least was purity, 
 long since vanished, alas ! from every spot 
 nearer earth. 
 
 It was an evening early in September and 
 the sun was setting, when I reached Lucerne. 
 The promenade beside the lake was thronged 
 with admiring spectators, amongst whom I 
 wandered listlessly and hopelessly. There 
 were people of all nations among the crowd. 
 
74 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 Ever and anon I cauglit scraps of English, 
 French, German, and Itahan. 
 
 The setting sun, dying in a lake of blood 
 behind Mount Pilate, bathed the world in a 
 crimson flood and heated red-hot with its 
 fiery breath the top of every mountain. 
 Mount Pilate itself, clothed sumptuously in 
 purple and fine linen, was beginning to reflect 
 the light of a gentler monarch now that the 
 more ardent one was departing. Already the 
 moon's young crescent, pale with envy, sent 
 a silvery messenger over the snow to herald 
 his coming ; already the deep blush on the 
 mountains was paling, and the gold on the 
 rippling water at my feet changing into silver. 
 
 I was listlessly wondering which was the 
 more beautiful, the passion of the moment 
 before or the purity of the present. I was 
 leaning on the parapet and looking down into 
 the dazzling water, when a lady's dress swept 
 lightly over my foot, the lace on a lady's 
 
• LIFE AND ITS ATTRACTIONS 75 
 
 mantle tickled my hand, and a lady's soft 
 warm breath mingled itself with the breath of 
 Nature upon my cheek. 
 
 I had been crowded, hustled, run against, 
 pushed aside a hundred times this evening 
 already, and why these gentle touches should 
 have affected me so powerfully, I cannot tell. 
 I only know that they ran through me like a 
 succession of electric shocks, and that every 
 nerve in my body throbbed a response to 
 them. I looked round. 
 
 Close beside me stood a lady and beyond 
 her a gentleman. Both were leaning, as I 
 was, upon the parapet which protects the 
 promenade towards the lake. Both were 
 apparently occupied, as I was, in contem- 
 plating the wondrous landscape before us, 
 which Nature had just been freshly colouring 
 into a glory unspeakable. 
 
76 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 CHAPTEE YI. 
 
 PEIXCE AXD DAME DE COMPAGXIE 
 
 Who hath not found himself surprised into revenge, or 
 action, or passion, for good or evil, whereof the seeds lay within 
 him, latent and unsuspected, until the occasion called them 
 forth ? — Thackbhax {Esmond). 
 
 But appearances may be deceitful. The pair 
 beside me, both wonderfully handsome, both 
 evidently struggling with a supreme emotion, 
 were as indifferent to the beauty of the scene 
 before them as if they had been blind. They 
 were gazing, not at it, but, intently at one 
 another. 
 
 Yet that she was lookincr at liim could 
 only be guessed at by the expression in his 
 face, turned towards me. It was lit up by 
 
PRINCE AND DAME DE COMPAGNIE 77 
 
 the last sun rav, and was all aflame with 
 passion and anger and love and entreaty and 
 fury at the opposition which he seemed to 
 read in hers, and fierce intention to over- 
 come it. 
 
 How can I describe him — the man whom 
 I instinctively felt was destined to become my 
 arch-enemy — the man whom I was fated to 
 hunt down unto his death ? 
 
 At the very moment when I had finally 
 discovered that life was not worth the living, 
 Fate lit up two fires in my heart, which for a 
 long time burned with almost equal intensity 
 — fires fundamentally opposed, and yet con- 
 tinually fed the one by the other — love and 
 hate. 
 
 That he would be no despicable enemy was 
 apparent at the first glance. His rank was evi- 
 dently far beyond my own. His beauty was 
 so extraordinary that as I gazed I saw others 
 gaze too in open-eyed admiration. 
 
78 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 ' What a magnificent man ! ' whispered an 
 Enghsh lady passing us. 
 
 ' Mon Dieu ! quelle beaute superbe I ' mur- 
 mured a Frenchman. 
 
 ' Donnerwetter ! welch ein Paar I ' cried 
 an enthusiastic German. 
 
 Whether these remarks were heard or not 
 by the object of them, I cannot say. His 
 deep, dark, heavily-fringed blue eyes re- 
 mained fixed upon the lady's face ; his 
 beautifuUy-cut, transparent nostrils still 
 quivered ; between his full, red, haughtily- 
 curled lips his white teeth gleamed — like 
 those of some magnificent, ferocious wild 
 animal ; and through the rich brown of his 
 complexion you might still see the hot 
 Southern blood palpitate. When at last he 
 spoke I drew my breath to listen, bending my 
 head low over the water as if that were the 
 sole object of my thoughts. 
 
 His voice corresponded to his appearance. 
 
PRINCE AND DAME DE COMPAGNIE 79 
 
 perfectly. It was soft, musical, seductive, 
 passionate, and commanding all in one. 
 Through every word he uttered ran a threat 
 which seemed to say, ' Yield, or I will com- 
 pel thee. Eesist, and I will oppose the 
 strength of my manhood to the weakness of 
 thy womanhood, and kill if I cannot conquer 
 thee.' 
 
 I saw the woman shudder as he broke the 
 spell which had bound her, and saw too the 
 look with which he stilled and silenced her, 
 awing even the fibres of her body into sub- 
 mission. 
 
 ' Kathe,' he said (I understood enough 
 German to be able to follow him), ' Mddchen, 
 entschliesse dich dock. Glauhst du etwa dass 
 meine Geduld ewig dauern wird f ' (Make up 
 your mmd. Do you think my patience will 
 last for ever ?) 
 
 She made no answer, except by a quick 
 motion of her hand, meant to indicate, I 
 
8o THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 believe, that there was some one near who 
 might hear and heed him. It is a singular 
 characteristic of women that they never, even 
 at the most critical moment, lose their innate 
 fear of exposure, although men under the 
 same circumstances forget it utterly. 
 
 Her companion turned his wonderful eyes, 
 with their attractive yet steely glitter, full on 
 me for a moment, then lowered them con- 
 temptuously. 
 
 ' Bah,' he muttered, ' ein verrUckter Ena- 
 lander' (a crazy Englishman). 'He'll under- 
 stand no other language than his own ac- 
 cursed one.' 
 
 I felt flattered, of course, so flattered that 
 I ground my teeth, cursing him through them, 
 and laid my hand involuntarily upon the hilt 
 of a short Italian dagger I kept in my pocket. 
 But I listened on, restraining myself for the 
 present, my tell-tale eyes upon the water. 
 
 'Kathe,' he said again, and through the 
 
PRINCE AND DAME DE COMPAGNIE 8i 
 
 music of his voice ran the same chord of 
 threatening, ' speak, speak qnickly, and say, 
 " Eberhard, my Eberhard, I will yield, I will 
 do what thou wishest," or, hei Gott! I shall 
 kill thee or kill myself. I cannot endure 
 this uncertainty any longer, denn ich habe 
 dich lieb. Gerechter Himmel! until now I 
 scorned the passion, lighting up its flame in 
 the hearts of others and laughing as it con- 
 sumed them ! ' 
 
 The fierceness of his manner as he spoke, 
 the brutality of the passion which flashed out 
 of his eyes, his profane use of the tender 
 German words : Ich habe dich lieb — w^ords 
 almost more sweetly simple than our English 
 ' I love you ' — maddened me into a fury as un- 
 controllable as it was unreasonable. As crazy 
 for the moment as he had insultingly called 
 me, I. turned fiercely towards him, my hand 
 again upon the hilt of my dagger, at the 
 sharp point of which my hatred seemed to 
 
 VOL. I. G 
 
82 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 concentrate itself, and to become deadly, and 
 to lust for blood. 
 
 ' Der gnddige Ilerr verzeihen,' I said, ironi- 
 cally using the most deferential form of words 
 I could find, ' but I am neither so crazy nor 
 so ignorant as you seem to imagine. I per- 
 fectly understand what you have been saying, 
 and — and ' 
 
 The passion which was consuming me 
 consumed my voice too, and prevented my 
 finishing what I had to say. His haughty 
 eyes met mine once more, this time a faint 
 shadow of surprise modifying their brilliancy. 
 
 'Yery well, sir,' he answered, speaking 
 slowly, but in very excellent and refined 
 English, ' and what then ? You have a right 
 to understand, of course, but gentlemen do 
 not listen.' 
 
 The hot blood, which instantly dyed my 
 face scarlet, pleaded guilty to the charge he 
 implied, and maddened me still further. He 
 
PRINCE AND DAME DE COMPAGNIE 83 
 
 smiled sarcastically as he turned from me to 
 his companion again. She had slightly moved, 
 and I could see the lovely contour of her face, 
 and the slow tears which were falling one by 
 one into the water. 
 
 ' Come. Kathe,' he said, ' let 11 s go.' 
 'Not yet, sir,' I cried, casting prudence, 
 forethought, everything but wild passion, to 
 the mnd. ' You have twice deliberately in- 
 sulted me. I call you to account for it. I 
 demand satisfaction.' 
 
 The contemptuous look with wdiich he 
 now regarded me from head to foot was 
 worse than a blow — worse than a blow in the 
 eyes of all the populace. Then he stooped to 
 the lady, uttering a few rapidly- spoken words 
 in a language quite new to me. She rose 
 instantly from her leaning position on the 
 parapet, still keeping her face averted, and 
 they moved slowly away together ; his spurred 
 heels (he was attired in the closely-fitting rich 
 
 G 2 
 
84 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 uniform of a foreign cavalry officer) seeming 
 to spurn the ground they touched ; his long 
 sword clattering noisily after him upon the 
 pavement, 
 
 ' Sir,' I said, quickly following and trying 
 to speak with dignity and calmness, ' here is 
 my card. You will give me yours in return if 
 you please, and we can settle this matter at a 
 more convenient season.' 
 
 He took my card, glanced at the name 
 upon it with that curling back of his full red 
 lips which made him look so like a magnifi- 
 cent wild animal, and said in a sharp, clear 
 voice, and in words of which every one struck 
 and hurt me : 
 
 ' I am staying at the hotel L'Imperatrice 
 d'Autriche. If you will call there to-morrow 
 morning I will give orders that my courier 
 and maitre cC affaires. Monsieur de LafFolie, 
 shall give you audience. He will be quite 
 ready to show you wliat Aveapon we use in 
 
PRINCE AND DAME DE COMPAGNIE 85 
 
 my country for cliastising the impertinences 
 of boys. Not the sword, Herr je! but the 
 horsewhip, my young sir, or the cane.' 
 
 As lie uttered these insultinj^ words he 
 tore my card in two, flung it over the parapet 
 into the water, and strode forward again, 
 leaving me with the boihng passion in my 
 heart stilled into that intense quiet which is 
 the bes^innino^ of murder. 
 
 What I should have done next I know 
 not — I had already drawn my dagger from 
 its sheath — when the lady turned and looked 
 at me, her lovely eyes first full of terrified 
 caution, rapidly changing into profound sur- 
 prise and eager curiosity. 
 
 O, those eyes and that face ! and, above 
 all, that incomprehensible expression ! Had 
 she seen me before, or I her, or had we both 
 known and loved one another in a dream ? 
 
 I do not know when I became aware that 
 I was the centre of attraction for many curious 
 
86 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 eyes. I remember hearing again the words 
 which had formed an excuse for my first out- 
 break of fury. ' Ach^ ein verruckter Engldnder ! ' 
 the people cried, forming a dense crowd 
 around the place where I stood. ' Ein verruck- 
 ter Engldnder ! ' the burly gendarme echoed, as 
 he forced his way through the gaping multi- 
 tude and bore down heavily upon me. 
 
87 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 UN GRAND PETIT HOMME. 
 
 For we are all so heavily weighted by the laws and con- 
 ditions of the present ordered time, that no one, be he never so 
 free, can long remain upright, without the support of a business 
 or the excitement of a love affair. — Immeemaxij {Munchausen). 
 
 Ix another moment I became aware that I 
 was not only a laughing-stock for the public, 
 but also in a confounded pickle. The gen- 
 darme's heavy hand was on my shoulder, his 
 red face and flamino^ moustache in threateninsj; 
 proximity to mine, and his husky voice of 
 authority in ni}^ ears, bidding me hand over 
 the daixi^er I still brandished and follow 
 liim.- I knew that opposition would be worse 
 than useless, and might be punished by long 
 months of Ai^rest. 
 
88 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 But before I had time to consider what I 
 should do, the hand of the incorruptible officer 
 of the law loosened its grasp of my shoulder 
 to grasp something else ; his ferocious mous- 
 tache suddenly grew quite amicable ; his left 
 hand, palm outwards, deferentially touched 
 the side of his official hat ; and leaving me, 
 the offender, unmolested, he began soundly to 
 rate the unoffending bystanders for blocking 
 up the way. 
 
 While I gazed and wondered, half believ- 
 ing myself deluded by some vision, the dagger 
 I still held was drawn gently from my clenched 
 fist and replaced in its sheath. 
 
 Looking round amazed, I met a caustic, 
 curious ray, darting out from the deep-set 
 eyes of a little wiry Frenchman. 
 
 ' Pardon, monsieur,' he said, with the 
 national shrug of tlie shoulder, the national 
 pohteness, and the national grimace, ' I have 
 fear that I have permitted myself to take too 
 
UN GRAND PETIT HOMME 89 
 
 great a liberty, mats — ah, monsieur, you have 
 much of — vat you call it? — plock, plock 
 anglais^ but it values better to have a little 
 of discretion, a little of patience with the 
 aristocrats.' 
 
 His voice began softly, rising at the end 
 of each clause into the sing-song emphasis of 
 ' the world's city.' His shabby clothes, too, 
 had been made in Paris, and, though rubbed 
 and worn at the seams, had a Parisian jaunti- 
 ness about them still. His umbrella, a cheap 
 one of cotton, was rolled into the smallest 
 compass possible, and the toes of his shining 
 boots reflected the crescent moon as if they 
 had been mirrors. 
 
 ' Was it you who sent away the gen- 
 darme ? Did you hear what that — that devil 
 said to me ? ' I gasped. ' Do you know him ? ' 
 
 ' The gendarme ? — iiiais oui, monsieur ; a 
 very worthy citizen of Lucerne.' 
 
 ' With a weakness for les pourboire.' 
 
90 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 ' You have said it, monsieur. But who 
 has not his httle weaknesses ? Behold mine,' 
 showing his shining boots. 
 
 ' I did not mean him, thoug^h.' 
 
 ' I have divined that also. You will say 
 the other.' 
 
 ' I mean the other.' 
 
 ' And you called him cle dayvil. You 
 have well said, monsieur ; it is the truth.' 
 
 ' Do you know him too ? ' 
 
 ' Sz, monsieur, I know him. I know 
 him well, and I mean, I, to knoAV him 
 better.' 
 
 The sparkle was gone from his eye, leav- 
 ing it dark and menacing ; his teeth met and 
 moved slowly over one another like the grind- 
 ing-stones of a mill ; the light on his brightly 
 polished boots changed from white to dull 
 red, and looked like spots of blood. 
 
 ' Where is he staying ? ' I asked. ' What 
 is his name ? ' 
 
UN GRAND PETIT HOMME 91 
 
 All the music and the bright crescendo 
 were gone from the Frenchman's voice as he 
 answered me. 
 
 ' He is staying at the hotel LTmperatrice 
 d'Autriche, and his name is Monsieur le 
 Prince de Pobeldowski.' 
 
 ' Is he there alone ? ' 
 
 'He is there with Madame la Princesse 
 and suite.' 
 
 ' You do not mean to say that the lady is 
 — that he is married ? ' I faltered, somethinc^ 
 putting an icy hand on my heart and congeal- 
 ing its current. 
 
 ' The lady with him is only the dame de 
 conqjagnie of Madame la Princesse,' answered 
 my companion, eyeing me keenly, ' and is 
 poor and bourgeoises I believe. N'importe ; she 
 is beautiful as an angel. I am old now, 
 but I 'have been young too dans le temps. 
 Mon Dieu ! what hair ! shininc^ like pure s^old. 
 What eyes! no sky of summer was ever half 
 
92 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 SO blue. What teintl white and pure as the 
 snow upon the tops of the mountains.' 
 
 He paused, watching me and the betraying 
 hue upon my face, then went on : 
 
 ' If I were young, instead of old, I would 
 revenge myself on the aristocrat by entering 
 the lists against him and bearing off the 
 prize he is burning to win for himself. The 
 prize may be honest as well as beautiful — 
 jpar ma foi, je le crois! — may prefer mar- 
 riage with a bourgeois to a liaison with a 
 prince.' 
 
 I remembered the terror-stricken expres- 
 sion on the lovely face when it was turned 
 towards him ; I saw again the eager, curious, 
 interested look upon it when it was turned 
 towards me. And suddenly life assumed a 
 new aspect, became filled to the brim with a 
 new desire, to the realisation of which T 
 vowed to devote it. 
 
 ' Ecoutez' said the Frenchman, as we 
 
UA' GRAND PETIT HOMME 
 
 93 
 
 moved away from the crowd, ' I am going to 
 help you. Jlalte la I there is no reason for 
 that vehement outburst of gratitude, because 
 I am helping myself first. Only the good 
 God knows for how many, many of days I 
 have searched for an ally in vain. I, I also 
 have a little account to settle with Monsieur 
 le Prince.' 
 
 ' You are a gentleman,' I said eagerly ; ' be 
 my second m this affair. I will kill him, or, 
 by Jove, he shall kill me.' 
 
 ' TiensI tiens ! Behold your English plock ! 
 Nevertheless it is you who would be killed, 
 monsieur. Thoucrh he would not ficrht with 
 you. A prince will not fight with a com- 
 moner.' 
 
 ' By Jupiter Ammon, I'll make him, or 
 show him that I too can handle a whip.' 
 
 Again the Frenchman's teeth met — this 
 time sharply and savagely. Again his voice 
 had lost its melodious ring when he spoke 
 
94 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 ' A whip — un fouet — bon ! We will not 
 forget that either. It too must have its place 
 in our programme. But we have learned — 
 we other Frenchmen — to go softly, to bide our 
 time, to use the subterfuges. Et le temps^ le 
 temps de vengeance viendra ! ' 
 
 He lifted his dark eyes to the peaceful 
 evening sky wherein the young moon now 
 rode in all her glory, and murmured some- 
 thing which sounded like ' Gracieuse.' For a 
 few minutes we walked on in silence. 
 
 ' You will succeed, monsieur,' he continued. 
 ' Something tells me that you will succeed if 
 you will only let me help you. And it is not 
 only the vengeance that I seek — is it not a 
 good work to rescue the innocent ? ' 
 
 He seemed to find his answer in the stars, 
 towards which he turned his eyes again. He 
 seemed to be satisfied with that answer too, as 
 he turned them back towards me. 
 
 ' You have seen, monsieur,' he continued. 
 
UN GRAND PETIT HOMME 95 
 
 ' how her blood rushes back afTriii'hted to her 
 heart when lie even looks at her. And I have 
 seen her walk alone beside the lake, lookinir 
 into it, as if only under its water she knew 
 where to turn for safety.' 
 
 There was nothing now but compassion in 
 the dark eyes of my companion. I took his 
 hand ; I grasped it firmly in my own. 
 
 ' You shall lead and I will follow,' I said ; 
 ' 3'ou shall be my captain, and I will be your 
 lieutenant and aide-de-camp. As for the prize 
 when it is won, we will ' 
 
 ' Divide it ? ' he inquired, with an expres- 
 sive French grimace. ' In the meantime leave 
 my hand unmaimed, mon lieutenant Ouf! 
 That was the grip of a lion ! Permit me to 
 embrace you, French fashion, in return.' 
 
 French fashion did not quite accord with 
 my British notions, but I submitted to it 
 nevertheless. 
 
 ' Behold one fact accomplished,' he cried 
 
96 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 vivaciously. ' This evening Fate is smiling on 
 us both. I — I have found an ally; young, 
 eager, vigorous. And you, man ami, you 
 have found something to do.' 
 
 SomethincT to do. How did he know of 
 the malady which was sapping my hfe-springs ? 
 Yet how different hfe looked now to what it 
 had done an hour before! The blood ran 
 swiftly, almost joyously, through the veins 
 that had been so stagnant. My heart beat 
 high and vigorously. Over a dark horizon a 
 bright star had arisen. 
 
 ' We will begin at once,' I said. 
 
 'We will begin at once, monsieur. But 
 you must first know who I am before en- 
 rolling yourself under my banner. Will you 
 see it ? I always carry it with me.' 
 
 He drew a small leather case out of his 
 pocket, opened it, and held it before my as- 
 tonished eyes. It was a piece of blue ribbon, 
 
UN GRAND PETIT HOMME 97 
 
 Stained with dull red marks. Upon it were 
 stitched a few snow-white hairs. Underneath 
 was written in red ink the one word: 
 ' Gracieuse.' 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
98 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 GRACIEUSE. 
 
 Qui veut voyager loin manage sa m mture. 
 
 Racine {Les Plaideurs). 
 
 My curiosity was strongly excited. I urged 
 him to begin. 
 
 Let me tell the story again, translated 
 from his own words, every syllable of which 
 seemed graven on my heart as he poured it 
 forth in the silvery moonlight. How strangely 
 it contrasted with the peace of Nature ! The 
 placid water rippled at our feet, pale hghts 
 twinkled feebly in the city behind us, the young 
 moon hung motionless in a cloudless heaven, 
 the solemn mountains had drawn fog-mantles 
 over their ears, and seemed to repose. Every- 
 
GR AC IE USE 99 
 
 thing around appeared silently protesting 
 against our disturbing human element and 
 intrusion of human passion into the stillness 
 of the passionless night. 
 
 ' I live in Lucerne, monsieur,' bec^an the 
 Frenchman. 'I have already lived here 
 many years. There are reasons why I can- 
 not return to my beloved France, my poor 
 Napoleon-ridden country — pohtical reasons, 
 monsieur. Do not fear. I am an honest 
 man.' 
 
 Every line in his face — and there were 
 many — had told me that already. 
 
 ' It was last autumn, monsieur, when that 
 happened about which I am going to tell 
 you. It is not a great thing — you may think 
 it very insignificant when you have heard 
 it. But nimporte, I will tell it you all the 
 same. 
 
 ' Monsieur de Pobeldowski was also here, 
 as now, with his mother, Madame la Prin- 
 
 H 2 
 
lOD THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 cesse, and suite, only it was another dame ds 
 compagnie — not this one. I knew him well 
 by sight. Who, having once seen him, could 
 fail to know him again ? I think if the arch- 
 fiend could ascend from his infernal kingdom, 
 clothed in every bit of masculine beauty con- 
 ceivable, he would look like that man.' 
 
 I assented. The Frenchman had found a 
 fit comparison. 
 
 ' I lodge in a humble apartment au rez-de- 
 chaussee, monsieur, with a widow who doubt- 
 less takes as good care of me as I deserve. 
 For if her attentions are meagre and her re- 
 proaches munificent, who am I that I should 
 complain ? 
 
 ' It was a very hot night in August, now 
 more than a year ago. I had sunk to sleep 
 after much uneasy tossing to and fro, but 
 no sooner had I lost consciousness than I 
 found it again. Something sobbing at my 
 bedside caused me to spring up in a fright. 
 
GRACIEUSE loi 
 
 ' I was lialf awake and half asleep, and I 
 thought it was my little sister, who had died, 
 poor little one, at the fete of the Virgin, which 
 was her own fete too, for we had called her 
 Gracieuse Marie after the blessed Mother of 
 God. I put out my hand and laid it on her 
 soft, warm, curly head, and cried, " Gracieuse^ 
 ma 'petite I sois tranquille : c'est moi'' 
 
 ' Then I awoke a little more, and remem- 
 bered how we had laid her in her last bed, 
 dressed in the pretty frock she had worn at 
 the fete, white, with blue ribbons, tlie Virgin's 
 colours, and I sat up all trembling and said, 
 " It is a spirit, and it no doubt betokens my 
 death." 
 
 ' It would have been quite dark in my 
 room, for the night was sulphurous and heavy, 
 but for tlie rays of a lamp outside in the street 
 My window was open — I had forgotten to 
 shut it — and I arose in order to do so, and to 
 see what was beside me, whether spirit or 
 
J02 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 living thing. But I only saw my own white 
 face in a mirror, and the trembling of a tassel 
 hanging from my bonnet de nuit, and I heard 
 nothing save the beating of my own frightened 
 heart. 
 
 ' " Pooh I " I said, " a nightmare ! — rien de 
 plus r' I mixed and drank to the dregs a 
 strong glass of eau sucree, readjusted my 
 bonnet de nuit, glanced down the deserted 
 street, shut my window, and crept into bed 
 again. " There's a storm brewing over Mount 
 Pilate," I muttered ; " I might have known 
 yester-evening he wouldn't unsheath his 
 sword for nothing. It is well 1 awoke, or I 
 should have got hot ears in the morning for 
 letting in the rain." 
 
 'In spite of the eau sucree^ that strong 
 sedative, monsieur, I tossed and turned, seek- 
 ing sleep in vain on the right hand and on the 
 left. At last I tried what lying still w^ould 
 do, and with one result, at least. I heard the 
 
GRACIEUSE 103 
 
 sobbinc^ as^ain, and now I was wide awake. 
 There wan some one in the room. 
 
 ' Tliat wasn't a buro-lar behind tlie door, it 
 was only my own coat and pantaloons, and 
 those boots were mine too — nobody else's were 
 ever half so bright. And besides, what had 
 I got for any burglar to steal, except some 
 shabby clothes and this umbrella and a cup 
 of tisane in the cupboard ? I broke that cup 
 looking for him there, and came to myself 
 in the dismay of remembering that Madame 
 Papillote (that's my hostess) was taking care 
 of the remnant of my half-yearly pension, and 
 would also take good care to make me 
 liberally pay for the damage. 
 
 ' Besides — thous^h that was the last 
 thouo'ht of all — I remembered that a bur^^^lar 
 was hardly hkely to begin his work by sob- 
 bing.-' 
 
 ' So you found nothing ? ' 
 
 ' Your question savours of impatience, 
 
I04 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 monsieur ; you doubtless think that I am 
 unusually old and garrulous ; nevertheless if 
 I am to tell my tale at all I must tell it in 
 my own way. Yes, I did find something. I 
 heard a movement under the bed, valiantly 
 put in my hand, which rested again on some- 
 thing warm and soft and curly, and drew 
 forth ' 
 
 He stood still, turning his head to look at 
 me. I stood still too, looking at him. 
 
 ' Ah, monsieur, you were smiling just 
 now at my long-windedness, and I smiled too, 
 yet some smiles are as mirthless as the light- 
 ning flash which momentarily lights up a 
 deep well of tears. My heart is full of tears 
 now as it was then, when I remember the poor 
 suffering creature which whined as I touched 
 it, and pitifully licked my hand and its own 
 bleeding wounds, looking up at me the while 
 with soft, dark, imploring eyes, for all the 
 world like those of my lost Gracieuse. 
 
GRACIEUSE 105 
 
 ' Ah, monsieur, it seems to me that those 
 who can bear to hurt the beautiful living 
 things which God gave us will be punished 
 liereafter with the heaviest punisliment He 
 lias to inflict. I would rather have to an- 
 swer at the great judgment seat for many a 
 crime which men deem mortal than for one 
 cruel act to a helpless thing put into my 
 power.' 
 
 ' It was only a dog then ? ' I said, half dis- 
 appointed, half uneasy. 
 
 ' Only a dog, monsieur. A little dog whose 
 long, silky hair was as white as the dress in 
 which we buried my Gracieuse. Eound its 
 neck was a blue leather collar, upon which 
 was worked in raised gold a princely coronet 
 and the letter P. But now everything was 
 stained with blood — clotted blood, which 
 clung, to my hands and to my rohe de chambre, 
 and seemed to get inside me somehow and 
 clinsf to mv heart. 
 
io6 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 ' Listen, monsieur. I knew the do^ 
 belonged to Monsieur de Pobeldowski, and 
 I knew too — I knew it by instinct — that it 
 was he who had beaten it to death. There 
 were plenty of rumours concerning him float- 
 ing about Lucerne, and not a few of them 
 had penetrated even to my humble lodging 
 chez Madame Papillote^ rez-de-chaussee. But 
 rumours are not invariably correct, and 
 therefore we are not bound to believe that 
 mademoiselle, if she falls, will not be the first 
 victim of her sex by many who have perished 
 in swamps, attracted thither by the will-o'- 
 the-wisp of his wonderful beauty ; nor that 
 he once caused a disobedient servant to be 
 tortured to death ; nor that — but why recall 
 them all ? They are doubtless exaggerated, 
 for even in distant Hungary — he is a Hun- 
 garian — there must, meme pour les princes^ 
 be something like law. 
 
 ' Yet there is one crime laid to his charge 
 
GRACIEUSE 107 
 
 of SO serious a nature, that I cannot refrain 
 from mentioning it. He was not always the 
 ruUng prince. There was an elder brother 
 whom the people loved, for he was brave and 
 good and gentle, and this brother died — was 
 killed. Let me tell you how. 
 
 ' One day there was to be a grand boar 
 hunt in the forest, and the princes, both of 
 whom were passionately fond of this diversion, 
 were to take part in it. I heard from a by- 
 stander, one of the suite, that it was a splendid 
 sight to see them mounted, a gallant retinue 
 surrounding them, the bugles blowing, the 
 hounds straining at their leaslies and panting 
 for the chase. The princess mother — step- 
 mother of the elder, and who hated him — was 
 there to see them depart, and it was remem- 
 bered long after how the elder prince turned 
 back -towards her, his impatient horse rearing 
 high at the sudden check, to say, " Mother, 
 there is a strange foreboding in my heart ; if 
 
io8 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 I have ever sinned against thee, forgive it 
 now, for the sake of this my brother, whom 
 we both love so dearly." 
 
 ' The people never forgot how the pale 
 cheek of the princess turned to sickly yelloAV 
 at these noble words, nor how she shrank 
 from him as if his soft voice had been a blow. 
 They remembered too how the younger 
 prince — Prince Eberhard — struck his spurs 
 into the flanks of the fiery animal he rode, 
 so that it started off at a fierce gallop. The 
 whole brilliant cavalcade followed, leaving 
 behind in the courtyard of the palace a 
 silence Hke the silence of death. 
 
 ' N'ever was sucli a hunt. Every shot 
 told, and the princes and their followers 
 seemed alike insatiable. At last the day 
 began to fade, and tliey were forced to 
 return to the spot where the horses were 
 waiting. 
 
 ' As they turned to go, another shot 
 
GRACIEUSE I09 
 
 echoed tlirough the darkening wood, followed 
 by a cry of such intense horror that every 
 leaflet in the broad forest, every startled bird 
 in the thickets, every drop of blood in the 
 liearts present seemed to stand still to listen. 
 And then the people knew that the noblest 
 of them all had fallen — that it was the life- 
 blood of their beloved prince which was 
 sickening every blade of grass upon the 
 sward. After this manner your enemy and 
 mine, monsieur, came into the rights of the 
 firstborn. 
 
 ' Yet the people said it was an accident.' 
 
 My httle friend at this point sank into 
 reflection — reflection which was so deep and 
 profound that he only emerged from it at the 
 gates of Lucerne. 
 
 ' Behold our destination,' he cried, ' and 
 my story is only just begun.' 
 
 ' Finish,' I said. ' Let us turn again ; my 
 time is my own.' 
 
no THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 ' But not mine,' he answered, shrugging 
 his shoulders, and looking up at me with his 
 expressive French grimace. ' What a delusion 
 it is of ours, my friend, to think we rule the 
 women, when, nine times out of ten, they so 
 despotically rule us.' 
 
 ' What has that to do with your story ? ' 
 ' Only this, that it terminates it for the pre- 
 sent. I shall get something warm for supper 
 to-night, and yet go to bed hungry and cold. 
 There's a riddle for you.' 
 
 ' Come to my hotel and sup with me.' 
 ' Merci hien^ mon ami, but I prefer to pay 
 to-day's debts to-day. Au revoirJ 
 
 '• Come and breakfast with me to-morrow.' 
 ' I will do that gladly, and finish my story 
 too, if it will not weary you.' 
 
 And he was gone, first having saluted 
 military fashion, his open hand against his 
 shabby hat. There was something mihtary 
 in his walk too, I thought, as I watched him 
 
GRACIEUSE III 
 
 pacing clown the street from under the broad 
 porte-cochere of my hotel. 
 
 Well, Fate had poured a good deal into 
 my empty Hfe this day ! 
 
112 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A COTELETTE, A CAT, AND A CAPTAm. 
 
 L'homme est si grand que sa grandeur paroit merae en ce 
 qu'il se connoit miserable. Un arbre ne se connoit pas miserable. 
 II est vrai que c'est etre miserable que de se connoitre mise- 
 rable ; mais c'est aussi etre grand que de connoitre qu'on est 
 miserable. Ainsi toutes ces miseres prouvent sa grandeur. Ce 
 sont miseres de grand seigneur, miseres d'un roi detr6n6. 
 
 Pascal. 
 
 I WAS long in sinking to sleep, and when I 
 awoke it was hardly yet morning. I walked 
 to my window, threw it open, and looked out. 
 Long rows of lighted windows casting 
 faint reflections on the lake showed me that 
 the ever-active Kellner were at their morning 
 work, and Nature outside was astir and busy 
 trimming the mighty lamp which would soon 
 extinguish the others every one. The east 
 
A COTELETTE, A CAT, AND A CAPTAIN 113 
 
 was bright in glowing expectation of the 
 returning monarch of day ; the usurping moon 
 had fled in alarm ; the stars, his courtiers, were 
 wan and pale in the morning sky ; the mountains 
 were shaking off the mists in which their 
 heads had been shrouded during the night ; 
 the green waters of the lake were rippling 
 a musical welcome to the golden sunbeams ; 
 while the snowy top of many a virgin 
 peak was beginning to crimson like the pure 
 cheek of a maiden under the fiery kiss of her 
 lover. 
 
 I had been restless during the night, 
 haunted by many strange visions. Little 
 white dogs, clammy with blood, had looked 
 up at me with human eyes, and spoken to me 
 with human voices. Beauteous ladies had 
 called upon me to come to their assistance. 
 Frenchmen had rescued me from poisonous 
 daggers levelled at my heart, and, oddly 
 enough, the instant afterwards challenged me 
 
 VOL. I. 1 
 
114 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 to mortal combat. Gendarmes bad dragged 
 me off to prison, to die there at my leisure, 
 like the fair lady of Ballyacora Hall. Madame 
 Papillote had snatched untasted suppers from 
 my famishing lips. Princes had fallen before 
 me like stubble before the wind. And in the 
 midst of all I had felt Aileen's wet cheek 
 against my own, while my father stood up to 
 curse me, only prevented by a woman's 
 resolute hand over his mouth, and a woman's 
 earnest voice saying, 'Let the cruel thing 
 that weaned a brother from a sister answer 
 that.' 
 
 The full day had been succeeded by a 
 fuller night. A thousand interests had sprung 
 up in a life which had been atrophising for 
 want of one. 
 
 My new leader was as punctual as the 
 waiter with our breakfast, and the last stroke 
 of ten found us together in the private room 
 where I had ordered it should be laid. I 
 
A COTELETTE, A CAT, AND A CAPTAIN 115 
 
 would not let him talk much until his 
 appetite was appeased, for I liad noted the 
 wistful glance he cast upon the viands, and 
 remembered his own sombre prediction of 
 the night before. 
 
 So I replenished his plate with every good 
 thing I could find to put upon it, keenly 
 watching him while I ostensibly played with 
 my knife and fork, for I had no appetite, 
 because I believe you may gain much know- 
 ledge of a man's character from the way in 
 which he eats. And as I watched, my confi- 
 dence in him was confirmed, and my heart 
 went out to this new acquaintance freely and 
 unreservedly. 
 
 For, firstl}', he ate like a gentleman ; he 
 was undeniably hungry, and the viands were 
 such as to give the spur to appetite, but in 
 the midst of his appreciation and enjoyment 
 he never forgot propriety. Then, again, he 
 ate like a man of sound and unimpaired 
 
 I 2 
 
ii6 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 digestion. Beginning with more substantial 
 dainties, he finished up with a huge shce of 
 sweet cake — which I couldn't have touched — 
 and finally pledged me in a glass of sparkhng 
 Veuve Clicquot, his eyes as sparkling as it, 
 like a man who knows the use but not the 
 abuse of the good gifts of God. Your drunk- 
 ard cannot eat like that, still less the man of 
 vicious life. I was only twenty-two, and he 
 at least, sixty ; but, alas ! I couldn't remember 
 tlie meal which had given me half the inno- 
 cent pleasure. 
 
 'Behold me satisfied at last,' he said. 
 ' Truly, monsieur, you have entertained me 
 with a dejeuner fit for a prince.' 
 
 ' Did you get any supper last night ? ' I 
 asked, smiling. 
 
 ' Ah, you may well inquire, judging of 
 my prowess to-day ! No, monsieur, but tlie 
 cat did.' 
 
 ' The cat .? ' 
 
A CUTELETTE, A CAT, AND A CAPTAIN 117 
 
 ' Monsieur, slie is an animal of <zreat (lis- 
 cernment. She acts as my Nemesis.' 
 
 ' Wiiy don't you hang her ? ' 
 
 ' Sooth to say, monsieur, such a tliouglit 
 has sometimes come to me, but I liave 
 rejected it. Do not we prey upon all 
 animals ? Can we blame them if they some- 
 times prey upon us ? Nevertheless I think 
 that my Nemesis is sometimes hard upon 
 me.' 
 
 ' How ? ' 
 
 ' A little punishment is salutary, monsieur, 
 and teaches us humility, but an overdose is a 
 folly as well as a wrong, because it rouses 
 up resistance. Now I confess to having felt 
 badly treated this morning when my coffee 
 and 'petit pain also were appropriated by 
 that insatiable animal. And I could not 
 quite agree with Madame Papillote, who said 
 that I deserved it.' 
 
 I laui^hed. There was something? comical 
 
ii8 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 in his distress, and in the droll way in which 
 he gave it utterance. 
 
 ' Ah, monsieur, you laugh and Madame 
 Papillote scolds, yet for all that I find that 
 my little cross is sometimes hard to bear. 
 Madame Papillote says she is a mother to 
 me, but, to tell the truth, I feel occasionally 
 that she is more mardtre than mere. How- 
 ever, we have had enough of myself. Let us 
 consider what to do next. And, firstly, can 
 you still, after a night's rest, consent with all 
 your heart to be my ally ? ' 
 
 ' To be your aide de camp^ to follow your 
 banner ? Yes, monsieur, with all my heart.' 
 
 ' And you do not even first inquire who 
 I am ? ' 
 
 ' No, monsieur. Your face is in the full 
 light of day, and there is no shadow there to 
 shame it. Your eyes meet mine straight and 
 unflinchingly. For the rest, I have heard you 
 talk and I have seen you eat.' 
 
A COTELETTE, A CAT, AND A CAPTAIN 119 
 
 It was his turn to laugh now, and he did 
 laugh heartily. But there was something 
 like a mist before his eyes, and his hand 
 trembled as he put it into his pocket. 
 
 ' You gave me a grand testimony yester- 
 day, mon ami, and you gave it me unsolicited 
 and with frank confidence. You said I was 
 a gentleman, and you did not mean that I 
 was an aristocrat, did you ? ' 
 
 I checked the smile which began to curl 
 my lips as my eye rested involuntarily on his 
 well-brushed pantaloons, his frayed linen 
 collar and shiny surtout, and I answered 
 boldly, ' I did not.' 
 
 ' Merci Men, monsieur. Thank you 
 heartily for that as well as for the other. 
 I have a little word to say to you about the 
 aristocrats before we commence our work. 
 Un tout petit mot, monsieur ; do not have fear. 
 In the meantime, regardez.' 
 
 He had drawn a card from his pocket. 
 
I20 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 carefully wrapped in a scrap of newspaper. 
 
 I opened it and read : 
 
 LOUIS- ADOLPHE MOPPERT, 
 
 Oapitaine au 67"°^ Regiment de Ligne. 
 
 ' Ha, a soldier ! A real captain to fight 
 under ! ' 
 
 ' I was a soldier, monsieur. I helped, side 
 by side with many a brave comrade, to fight 
 a grand battle for France. But we did not 
 risk our lives and the lives of those dear to 
 us — we other Frenchmen — to grovel at the 
 feet of an emperor. We did not drive out 
 kings and their sycophants to worship a 
 golden calf in the shape of a Napoleon. Bear 
 witness, all ye other nations of the earth, we 
 were not fools enough for that ! ' 
 
 He had sprung to his feet, his fist clenched, 
 his mild, sometimes sarcastic, eye irate and 
 fiery. 
 
 ' Pardon, monsieur,' he added more 
 quietly, as he reseated himself, ' it is a subject 
 
A CU7ELETTE, A CAT, AND A CAPTAIN 121 
 
 which puts every drop of my old blood into 
 motion, and makes me twenty-six again instead 
 of sixty. For they offered me — me, monsieur — 
 a de before my honest name — they would have 
 made of me — of Moppert, monsieur — a hatch- 
 ins^ duke ! ' 
 
 ' And you would rather be yourself ? ' 
 
 ' In my humble lodging, rez-de-chaussee, 
 c/iez Madame Papillote — a cat the arbiter of 
 my destiny. Mais oui, monsieur, you have 
 said it.' 
 
 I was silent and sat watching him, rny 
 head upon my hand. 
 
 ' My face is in the full light, as you have 
 already remarked, monsieur, and yours, facing 
 it, is therefore in shadow, and still further 
 shrouded by your hand. I feel the expression 
 you partially hide rather than see it, and I 
 feel it in my inmost soul.' 
 
 ' What expression, monsieur ? ' 
 
 ' Listen, man ami ; speak truth to Moppert, 
 
122 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 even if that truth must murder remorselessly 
 a new-born hope. Let it perish rather than 
 be reared upon a lie.' 
 
 ' What is it you want to know, monsieur ? 
 Ask, and I will answer like — like an honest 
 man.' 
 
 ^ Bon! that is better even than crentleman. 
 Tell me then, would you have consented more 
 willingly to work with me if I had been a 
 duke, or even Monsieur de Moppert ? ' 
 
 ' Not one iota.' 
 
 ' Bon again ! My soul begins to expand. 
 I shake off one fear which was heavy upon it.' 
 
 ' Yet another remains ? ' 
 
 ' Truly, monsieur, I will be as honest as 
 you and frankly avow it. There is another. 
 It has shrunk to half its size, but is not dead. 
 It breathes, it moves, it is capable of growth 
 still.' 
 
 ' Tell it me.' 
 
 ' I will go back a little way and tell you 
 
A COTELETTE, A CAT, AND A CAPTAIN 123 
 
 how it was begotten. It liad no existence 
 yesterday. And first I will tell you how it 
 was that I ventured to speak to you yesterday, 
 and even to act for you, the stranger. I was 
 on my quest as usual. I was looking for an 
 ally. You are not the first whom Monsieur 
 de Pobeldowski has wantonly insulted. He 
 takes deliberate pleasure in forcing everyone 
 with whom he comes in contact to lick the 
 dust. And there are many, monsieur, who 
 feel it an honour to lick dust at the feet of a 
 prince. 
 
 ' But even before that thunderous en- 
 counter, when for the first time he met with 
 furious opposition, I had been watching you 
 with interest. You are young, handsome, 
 evidently rich. Why should you have stood 
 among the gay crowd Hke an image of des])air ? 
 — no, not of despair, you had left that behind, 
 and there was nothing beyond you but death.' 
 
 I started. By wdiat magical power had 
 
124 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 the little man been enabled to look into my 
 heart ? 
 
 ' Yet at the very moment when you 
 thought you had outlived love, love was close 
 beside you, waiting to lay a thrilling touch 
 upon your heart. The very power to hate 
 had perished within you, you fancied, when 
 all the time hate was sharpening a dagger to 
 put into your hand. You deemed that you 
 had done with life, when life roughly came to 
 shake you out of your lethargy, saying, " It is 
 work, not pleasure, which is my aim and 
 end. I have work for thee to do ; come and 
 do it ! " ' 
 
 It was true. I had learned to live anew 
 since yesterday. 
 
 'A few minutes later, monsieur, I knew 
 that I had found my ally, and that tlie ally 
 was one after my own heart. For it is when 
 the passions are all ablaze that we see the 
 man as he is. There is no concealino- crust of 
 
A COTELETTE, A CAT, AND A CAPTAIN 125 
 
 conventionality over him then. Yesterday I 
 thought you were bourgeois hke myself.' 
 
 ' And to-day, monsieur ? ' 
 
 ' To-day I am puzzled, anxious, and uneasy. 
 You have very much the air of a grand sei- 
 gneur as you sit there before me, and a grand 
 seigneur is to me what a cat is to a dog. 
 Nature makes me want to worry him. I do 
 not like that curl on your lip, nor those 
 berinc^ed hands, nor that insouciant smile, 
 which seems as natural to you as the fauteuil 
 on which you are lounging. Look at my 
 hands ; and as for fauteuils^ monsieur, a 
 wooden stool is the seat for which / was 
 born ! ' 
 
 ' Well, suppose I am an aristocrat ? ' 
 
 ' Je nien doute, monsieur. You are either 
 one, or have lived so much among them that 
 you have imbibed a good deal of — let us say 
 their odour. Well, I accept the inevitable. 
 I will not let my dislike for a class lead me 
 
126 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 into injustice against an individual. Give me 
 the hand, monsieur. We will be allies and — 
 and friends all the same.' 
 
 ' Or suppose I am not ? ' 
 
 ' Ah, monsieur, you must not mock your- 
 self of Moppert. I — I accept the inevitable, 
 but I cannot joke about it. I have suffered 
 too much, I and France, to bear even a hght 
 finger on that wound. I am a republican to 
 the nails on my fingers and toes, monsieur. 
 I may love you, but I cannot love your class. 
 I cannot lift a hand to save — nay, I am com- 
 pelled to help to drive them to their certain 
 doom. Bon Dieu ! Were the millions made 
 for the few, or the few for the millions ? ' 
 
 ' Be consoled, monsieur. I am no more an 
 aristocrat than yourself. I am nothing and 
 nobody.' 
 
 And I covered my face with my hands, 
 ashamed of my useless life and the years I had 
 wasted. 
 
A COTELETTE, A CAT, AND A CAPTAIN 127 
 
 He almost sprang to the ceiling in his 
 excitement. He clasped me to his heart, em- 
 bracing me again and again. 
 
 ' Venez^' he cried. ' Even this big salon is 
 too small to hold me. Let us go down to the 
 lake and smoke a cigarette, and lay our plans 
 with clearer heads than we have now. Come, 
 my friend.' 
 
 I instantly acceded to his proposal, and we 
 passed out of the shadow of the salon into 
 the brilliant sunshine of the glowing noon 
 outside. 
 
128 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 JOSEF AUFDERMAUER. 
 
 Auf den Bergen wolint die Freiheit, und am Meere wird 
 man niemals Sclave. — Gutzkow. 
 
 There was not a cloud to be seen in the deep 
 blue of the sky as we passed out from under 
 the shadow of the broad porte-cochere^ and the 
 rugged summit of Mount Pilate stood out 
 darkly distinct from its brilliant sapphire 
 background. As we sauntered down to the 
 water's edge, lazily puffing the smoke from 
 our scented cigarettes, I was struck by the 
 extreme stillness of the emerald water and the 
 unwonted richness of its colouring. Every- 
 thing seemed sunk in repose except ourselves ; 
 the very flies had ceased to buzz over the 
 
JOSEF AUFDERMAUER 129 
 
 glassy surface of the water, unliarassed by 
 the fish which lay motionless under them, and 
 the houses of Lucerne, their windows hidden 
 behind green Venetian blinds, were slumber- 
 ing with their inmates. The sun, high in the 
 heavens, sent scorching rays down upon the 
 burning earth, which, like a heated stove, 
 seemed to c^ive back what it received with 
 usury. The only moving things were a 
 solitary pleasure-boat, lazily propelled by the 
 hands of some doubtlessly mad Englishman, 
 and the smoke from a steamer bound for 
 Fliielen, which, too weary to rise, fell darkly 
 back upon its deck again. 
 
 ' Comme ilfait chaud I ' said Moppert. 
 
 ' How hot it is ! ' I repeated. 
 
 ' It was cooler yonder in the salon,' said 
 my little friend, lighting a fresh cigarette. 
 'We had better have stayed there, mon ami. 
 Look how intensely blue the sky is, and hoAv 
 cLearly defined the peaks of Mount Pilate ; yet 
 
 VOL. I. K 
 
I30 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 I never remember this burning, sulphurous feel 
 in the air since the night I found Gracieuse. 
 And that was followed by a fearful storm, 
 though there is no sign of a storm to-day.' 
 
 ' Not one,' I answered, untying my cravat 
 and loosening my collar. ' It was certainly 
 cooler in the salon^ as you say ; nevertheless, I 
 do not want to go back.' 
 
 ' Youth never does,' said the Frenchman 
 quietly ; ' it leaves that for age.' 
 
 ' Look at the boat yonder,' I said ; ' the 
 Spaniards say that only dogs and Englishmen 
 go abroad in the sunshine of the noon-day, 
 but you may depend upon it the rower is 
 risfht. If there is a breath of air to be found 
 anywhere it will be upon the lake.' 
 
 ' Me voila tout pret,' said Moppert, ' and 
 there are boats enough ; but where is the 
 boatman ? ' 
 
 I looked round. There were plenty of 
 boats, big ones and little ones ; some drawn 
 
JOSEF AUFDERMAUER 131 
 
 up upon the shore, some upon the water ; but 
 not a shigle man to be seen anywhere, only a 
 barefooted boy, sitting under the shadow of a 
 boat, nursing a baby. 
 
 ' See, there's httle Josef,' said Moppert. 
 ' How is the baby, Josef? ' 
 
 ' Pretty quiet just now, sir, thank you.' 
 
 ' That httle lad is the eldest of seven,' said 
 Moppert. ' We call him the boy-mother, be- 
 cause his mother is bedridden, and he takes 
 care of the others. Poor little lad, he is a 
 cripple.' 
 
 I drew out a piece of gold. 
 
 The bo3^'s eyes glistened, but he put out 
 no hand to receive it. 
 
 ' Herre, I have done nothing to earn it.' 
 
 ' But you shall,' I said ; • fetch me a boat- 
 man.' 
 
 * ' Fetch your father, Josef,' said Moppert ; 
 ' he is the best boatman in Lucerne ; and take 
 the money for the mother.' 
 
 K 2 
 
132 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 The boy took it now, though with much 
 hesitation. ' The mother is ill,' he said, the 
 colour rushing to his face. Then he limped 
 off, baby and all. 
 
 ' When I have had a particularly hard 
 time with Madame Papillote and her cat,' said 
 the Frenchman gravely, ' I come down to 
 the shore and let that cripple lad teach me 
 how to bear. He will not teach for long, 
 monsieur. Such as he die early.' 
 
 A moment more of waiting and then 
 Moppert cried : 
 
 ' Void Josef's father ! Good-day, Aufder- 
 mauer.' 
 
 The man touched his cap in acknowledg- 
 ment of the greeting. 
 
 ' Good-day, gentlemen,' he responded. 
 ' Was it you who sent our Josef to request me 
 to find you a boat ? ' 
 
 His use of the word ' request ' {bitten) instead 
 of ' command,' the free-and-easy manner of his 
 
JOSEF AUFDERMAUER 133 
 
 salutation, courteous, but with the courtesy of 
 a lieutenant to his colonel — gentlemen both — 
 impressed me. And I thought of William 
 Tell, and wondered if he in any way resembled 
 this man. 
 
 ' Yes,' I said, ' we want a boat ; find us 
 one as soon as possible.' 
 
 He did not speak for a moment, only 
 turned liis dark eyes up towards the sky, letting 
 them rest on the summit of Mount Pilate. 
 
 'Mount Pilate has no collar on to-day,' 
 said Moppert. ' I know the signs of the 
 weather as well as you, Aufdermauer. To- 
 day a child might row on Vierwaldstdtter- See.' 
 
 ' Gentlemen,' said the boatman, without 
 replying to this remark, ' my boat will be 
 ready in ^yq minutes ; it is lying yonder. I 
 will row you myself.' 
 
 - ' We do not want a boatman,' I said ; ' I 
 shall not require you.' 
 
 ' Gentlemen,' said the boatman again, after 
 
134 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 another rapid glance at sky and lake, ' I will 
 take you out for a row myself and be glad 
 to do it. I was born here on the shores of 
 the lake and know what Mount Pilate means 
 when he lifts a finger. You must not go out 
 alone to-day.' 
 
 Must not? I had been one of the crack 
 rowers at Oxford, and this man's evident con- 
 tempt for my prowess nettled me. I was a 
 spoiled child of fortune, and his ' must not ' 
 made me determined that I would. 
 
 ' Get your boat ready,' I repeated haugh- 
 tily. ' We shall not want you.' 
 
 His dark eyes flashed, then he said with 
 effort : ' Sir, I have seen the piece of gold you 
 gave our Josef, and I cannot take it away 
 from my wife again, who has already shed 
 tears of joy over it. Hear me a moment. 
 Last summer, a young man, one of your 
 countrymen, took his bride out alone upon 
 the lake.' 
 
JOSEF AUFDERMAUER 135 
 
 ' What has that to do with me ? ' 
 
 ' Only this, Herre,' he continued, his great 
 dark eyes flashing again ; ' only this, that llie 
 young wife sleeps now in the churcliyard of 
 Lucerne, and he, the harebrained husband, 
 sleeps, and wakes, both in a madhouse. You 
 cannot turn a deaf ear to the spirits of our 
 lakes ; they will be heeded and obeyed.' 
 
 I was staefo-ered. For a moment I thouo'ht 
 of yielding, then I raised my eyes to the sky 
 and laughed at the absurdity of his fear. 
 There was not a cloud in it as big as a man's 
 hand. The boatman was only humbugging 
 us in order to increase the value of his 
 services. 
 
 ' I am poor,' continued tlie man — an 
 obvious fact of which he did not need to 
 inform us — ' and can make use of every 
 centime I earn, but I would rather not earn 
 another franc this week than let you go out 
 alone to-day.' 
 
136 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 Let us^ forsooth ! AYho was this man that 
 he dared gainsay my wishes? The idle desire 
 of half an hour ago had grown into a furious 
 longing under the stimulus of opposition. 
 
 ' If you cannot suj)ply us with a boat, 
 there are others who can, I suppose,' I said with 
 simulated coolness. ' For the rest, there was 
 no need of your putting so much stress on 
 your value. I should have paid you as much 
 for your absence as for your presence.' 
 
 The man's strong frame quivered with 
 suppressed passion. ' Sir, it is not that,' he 
 said ; 'you know it is not that. I am paid 
 already. There is my boat, it is unmoored, 
 take it. The dear God knows I have done 
 what I could.' 
 
 In another minute or so we were in the 
 boat, a rapidly increasing space of green 
 water between it and the handsome figure of 
 Josef Aufdermauer, who stood looking after 
 us, his hand shading his eyes from the burn- 
 
JOSEF AUFDERMAUER ly] 
 
 ing sunlight. I had heard his parting words to 
 Moppert, who had followed me mechanically. 
 ' Herre,' he said, 'you are older and wiser than 
 the Engldnder ; for heaven's sake, keep your 
 eye upon Mount Pilate.' 
 
 I pulled hard at the oars in spite of the 
 heat, ashamed to look at my friend, who sat 
 motionless by the rudder and uttered not a 
 word. I knew, too, that I lied when I said, a 
 few minutes later : 
 
 ' Ce ne sont que des sottises, monsieur. The 
 fellow wanted to humbug us.' 
 
 ' You have said it,' he answered monoto- 
 nously, using his customary words of assent, 
 but with no assent in them now. ' But how 
 hot it is — how hot it is ! ' 
 
 It was hot for a certainty. The sweat 
 stood in thick beads upon my forehead. 
 There was a suffocating feel in the air, which 
 compelled us to draw our breath with effort, 
 or hold it with nature. The blue vault. 
 
138 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 arched so high above, nevertheless weighed 
 upon us hke an incubus, and the smoke from 
 the chimneys in Lucerne, like the smoke of 
 the steamer, too sluggish to rise, fell back 
 again upon the city. I would have returned 
 but for shame, and I resolved to keep a strict 
 watch, and to pull for the shore on the 
 slightest sign of disturbance in the sky. In 
 the meantime I must arouse Moppert, and in- 
 duce him to look at me, instead of at Mount 
 Pilate. 
 
 ' Tell me the rest of your story,' I said ; 
 ' I can row and listen too.' 
 
 My ruse was successful. His face bright- 
 ened. His anxious eye cleared. He turned 
 his head away from the shore, and the two 
 busfbears there, tlie mountain and the moun- 
 tain's interpreter, and looked at me in- 
 stead. 
 
 I put into my face a confidence I did not 
 feel. I smiled his fears away, and rowing hard, 
 
JOSEF AUFDERMAUER 139 
 
 in order to lose sight of Josef Aufdermauer, 
 encouraged him to begin. 
 
 We were now alone upon the lake. The 
 solitary boat with its occupant had disap- 
 peared, and the quiet around us was undis- 
 turbed except by the splash of my oars. 
 Moppert began to narrate, and soon, in the 
 interest of his story, which made the beads on 
 his forehead swell into heavy drops and fall, 
 we had both forgotten Josef Aufdermauer, 
 and liis warning to keep an eye upon Mount 
 Pilate. 
 
140 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE REASON WHY. 
 
 Et via vix tandem voci laxata dolore est. — Viegil {^netd). 
 Chi puo dir com' egli arde, e un picciol fuoco. — Peteaeca. 
 
 ' The little dog did not die, monsieur. I 
 washed the blood from its wounds, put it in 
 the bed beside me, and let it lie there until 
 the morning. 
 
 ' Whether it slept or not, I cannot tell. 
 The storm which Mount Pilate had announced 
 broke upon us, and during it sleep was im- 
 possible for me. My little room was illumi- 
 nated by a light more intense than that of the 
 sun to-day, and the crash of the thunder was 
 so terrible and continuous, that more than 
 
THE REASON WHY 141 
 
 once I thought Lucerne must have fallen, as 
 did the walls of Jericho. 
 
 ' When it subsided, I arose from my sleep- 
 less couch, and looked long at my unique 
 bed-fellow. 
 
 ' It was not sleeping then. It was gazing 
 up at me with dark, soft, trustful eyes, for all 
 the world like those of my lost Gracieuse. 
 
 ' Then I stooped and took it in my arms 
 and said : " See, little one ! Thou and I art 
 outcasts : both of us have been cruelly ill- 
 used by those whom we would have loved 
 and honoured. Let us hve henceforth to- 
 gether, foregoing the vengeance I have sworn 
 during this night. Didst thou, too, under- 
 stand the words of the thunder when it said : 
 ' Vengeance is Mine ? ' " 
 
 ' It wagged its tail, monsieur, just as if it 
 had, and licked my hand ; and so we sealed 
 our compact, Gracieuse and I, and the dog 
 became my own. 
 
142 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 ' We led a harassed life though, for the 
 next week or two. Madame Papillote ex- 
 torted a raost exorbitant price for its board, 
 putting me also upon short rations to make 
 up for it in another way. As for the cat 
 — monsieur, I confess — there is yet a little 
 bottle of poison in my cupboard, hidden be- 
 hind the tisane, and a bit of rope. 
 
 'We could not stand it at last. I was obliged 
 to seek other lodgings for Gracieuse. So I 
 took her to the hut of a charcoal-burner, and 
 left her there in charge of the man's blind 
 daughter, Gabrielle. I was forced to hide her 
 for fear of her meeting her former master and 
 would-be murderer ; but every day, weather 
 permitting, I took my promenade in the 
 wood, spending my happiest hours there with 
 Gracieuse, both of us what the Germans call 
 vogelfrei. 
 
 ' I must not forget to say that I sent back 
 the blue leather collar, its costly gold em- 
 
THE REASON WHY 143 
 
 broidery all stained with blood, to Monsieur 
 le prince. And I added a few lines written 
 in blood too — the blood of the dog. They 
 were but a few : only to the effect that, if we 
 ever came into contact, it should be his fault ; 
 but z/we did, Heaven have mercy on him, for 
 I would have none. 
 
 'How much I learned to love the dog, 
 monsieur, I hardly venture to tell you. You 
 would think it folly, no doubt. But the pretty 
 creature loved me, and seemed to know that 
 it was I who had saved it. It would run from 
 Gabrielle to meet me, frantic with delight, and 
 on those days that I could not come, it would 
 refuse its food, sitting w^ith drooping tail and 
 ears in a corner, an image of desolation. 
 
 ' Thus the months slipped b}^ and the 
 golden leaves turned to russet brown, and, 
 dropping one by one, were covering the earth 
 with a brown mantle to protect it from the 
 winter's cold. 
 
144 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 ' I noticed this as I walked through the wood 
 towards the hut, by the side of a httle rippUng 
 rivulet imbedded in a stony couch softened by 
 moss. No bird was singing, but my heart 
 supplied the deficiency, and sang a duet with 
 the water, as it murmured of the clear lake 
 towards which it was hastening. My heart 
 felt unusually blithe that day ; the air was 
 fresh though soft, permeated by that pecu- 
 liarly invigorating element which only autumn 
 yields. 
 
 'Monsieur, if you are not tired, row a 
 little harder for a moment, that my nerves 
 may be steadied by the feeling of doing some- 
 thing. Did you ever feel particularly well 
 just before an illness, or particularly happy 
 just when Fate was raising the knife to cut 
 the throat of your happiness ? 
 
 ' I was surprised to find the cottage door 
 close shut : it was usually wide open to wel- 
 come me. And why was Gracieuse so tardy ? 
 
THE REASON WHY 145 
 
 and what had silenced Gabrielle's clear sonir ? 
 Yet I smiled ; I smiled, monsieur, as I tapped 
 at the door. Ha! ha! the soft wind had 
 carried away the sound of my coming ; they 
 were not expecting me, and all the greater 
 would be their delis^ht. 
 
 ' My rap was answered, but — by what ? 
 By the piteous, terrified, imploring howl of a 
 dog ! Then silence so profound that the gentle 
 ripple of the rivulet sounded like the roar of 
 a cataract. 
 
 ' I tried the door : it was fastened. 
 
 ' I knocked again ; loudly, angrily, in. 
 peratively. My heart's rapid beat sounded as 
 ominous as the tick of the death-watch, and the 
 sweat stood on my brow in thicker drops than 
 it does to-day. Was that fierce, harsh voice 
 mine, saying : " Gracieuse^ ma petite^ sois trail- 
 quills! ^ C'estmoiy 
 
 ' The next moment I was in the one room 
 of the cottage ; half of it stove, on the top of 
 
 VOL. 1. L 
 
146 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 which poor bhnd Gabrielle slept. Gabrielle 
 was not there ; only Gracieuse, crouched in a 
 corner, her bright eyes wide with terror. 
 
 ' Monsieur, row a little faster still, if you 
 please. I must feel like doing something while 
 I speak. Oh, the pain, the pain of this in- 
 action ! the torture of being forced to wait 
 instead of fight ! 
 
 'I suppose I had broken open the door 
 myself. I cannot tell. I only know that I 
 was there, as I should have been if stone walls 
 had tried to shut me out. There are crises in 
 our lives, monsieur, when we can do anything, 
 when every earthly consideration, every con- 
 ventional bond, nay, even apparently insuper- 
 able obstacles, are as powerless to restrain us 
 as the thread of a spider's web. 
 
 ' There were two or three men in the room. 
 I felt their presence, for my eyes saw nothing 
 ])ut Gracieuse. I knew, too, who they were ; 
 for, monsieur, if we are warned instinctively 
 
THE REASON WHY 147 
 
 of the nearness of what we love, we feel still 
 more infallibly the contact of what we hate. 
 
 ' But I spoke quietly — oh, so quietly ! — 
 raising my hat and bowing low as I said : 
 " Gentlemen, pardon my intrusion ; I am 
 gone again in a moment. It is but to fetch 
 my dog that I come." And I added, more 
 softly still : " Gracieuse, ma petite^ sois tran- 
 quille! C'est Jiioi.'' 
 
 ' I stooped and took her in my arms, 
 monsieur, and the trance of terror into which 
 she had fallen dispersed somewhat when she 
 felt my caress. I stroked her silky hair and 
 pressed her to my heart, turning to go with- 
 out another word — as noiselessly, as sub- 
 missively as if I had been an unhallowed 
 intruder into a sanctuary and these men its 
 high priests. When I passed their chief, I 
 bowed low a^'ain and entreatinoil/ as if 
 beseeching him to forgive my sacrilege. 
 For oh, monsieur, love is very powerful ; 
 
 L 2 
 
148 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 it can teach us to bear profoundest humilia- 
 tion, forcing us even to hck the dust from the 
 feet of a Prince de Pobeldowski ! 
 
 'I had only taken a few steps, when a 
 voice, as quiet as mine, called on me to stop. 
 You have heard its liquid music, monsieur. 
 Could Satan, tempting Christ in the wilder- 
 ness, have found a voice better suited for his 
 purpose than that ? 
 
 ' " By what right are you its master ? " 
 said the prince. 
 
 ' I turned and looked straight into the 
 face I hated so intensely. I saw the tri- 
 umphant sparkle in his eye, the quivering of 
 his nostril, the smile curling his lips — like 
 the smile of a tiger ready to spring. And I 
 forgot my humanity as I looked, in the brut- 
 ish instinct to fly at his throat and cling 
 there, until he, or I, or both of us, were 
 dead.' 
 
 I had been rowing almost as rapidly as 
 
THE REASON WHY 149 
 
 the Frenchman had been narrating — the high 
 tension of feeUng into which he had worked 
 us both passing on into my muscles until 
 I grew insensible to fatigue. Now, as lie 
 paused, I paused also, resting on wv^ oars 
 and letting the boat drive with the current. 
 We had lono^ since lost sic^ht of Lucerne. 
 
 ' " By what right ? " said the prince. 
 
 ' " By a right divine and sacred," I 
 answered — and now my voice was choked 
 with passion and tremulous with fury — " the 
 right of having saved it from a cruel death." 
 
 ' " A very poetical right, truly," laughed 
 the prince — his companions laughing with 
 him — " but hardly a legal one, monsieur. I 
 bought and paid for the dog, and my right, 
 though psychologically less interesting than 
 yours, is more likely to be regarded. But I 
 have no time to refer the matter to others. 
 I am already en route for Hungary. I must 
 settle it at once." 
 
ISO THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 ' In spite of the sneer in bis tone, his 
 words seemed to point out a hope. In spite 
 of the cruel gleam in his eye, I seized the 
 liope and clung to it. 
 
 ' " Let me buy the dog," I cried eagerly. 
 " I am poor, but I will borrow money. I 
 will work, I will starve, to pay the price you 
 name." 
 
 ' " The dog is priceless," he answered, 
 " there is not its fellow in Europe. You 
 might sell yourself and fail to realise its 
 value. But for lack of time, I would have 
 you arrested for dog-stealing." 
 
 ' " Monsieur," I answered, " have a care. 
 I am a soldier of France." 
 
 ' " So much the better," he rephed, " we 
 will settle it on the spot. It was you, there- 
 fore, who sent me back the collar and the 
 words accompanying it." 
 
 ' " Monsieur," I said beseechingly (do not 
 think meanly of me, my friend, it was for 
 
THE REASON WH\ 151 
 
 Gracieuse) " those words were written in hot 
 an£i^er : forc^et them, as I will." 
 
 ' " I never forget," he answered, " and 
 never forgive. Those words were written in 
 blood ; I shall give them back in blood, 
 to-day." 
 
 ' I trembled. Monsieur, I am not afraid 
 to die. I have stood firm at the cannon's 
 mouth and rushed forward upon fixed 
 bayonets with a cry of delight, but now 1 
 turned sick with fear. There was somethincf 
 impending over me I should not be able to 
 bear. 
 
 ' " I make a proposition to you, monsieur,' 
 continued the prince. " Look at the dog, she 
 knows me better than you do ; she knows that 
 I never forgive." 
 
 ' It was true. Her fear of him, pauvre 
 petite, was greater than her confidence in 
 me. She had sprung from my arms and was 
 lying crouched at his feet — not in hope of 
 
152 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 averting her doom : oh, my God ! not in 
 hope ! 
 
 ' " She used to be my favourite," he went 
 on, smihng that cruel smile of his, " and she 
 ventured to disobey me. I punished her. 
 Look here." 
 
 ' He opened his beautiful right hand and 
 showed me the palm. There was a slight scar 
 upon it. 
 
 ' " She ventured further to resent her 
 
 punishment, monsieur, and then well, you 
 
 know what then." 
 
 ' Yes, I knew, I knew ! But, hke a pru- 
 dent soldier, I spared my forces until every 
 tittle of them would be needed for action. 
 
 ' " I spoke of a proposition, monsieur," 
 continued the prince. " If you accede to it, 
 I will make you a free gift of Donna, un- 
 harmed." 
 
 ' There was no sign of hope in his words 
 now, not a particle. I waited. 
 
THE REASON WHY 153 
 
 * " I have been seeking you and Donna, 
 monsieur, many a long day," he said. " I had 
 nearly given you up in despair. But fortune 
 favoured me : she always does." 
 
 ' I waited still. 
 
 ' This morning — only this morning — one 
 of my people recognised Donna with a bhnd 
 girl on the outskirts of Lucerne." 
 
 ' Oh, unhappy Gabrielle ! How wilt thou 
 bear to hear what thou hast done ? 
 
 ' " Only blood will satisfy me," he con- 
 tinued ; " yours or the dog's. I will accept 
 a propitiatory sacrifice. Once she was my 
 favourite. I liked to feel her lick my hand 
 and rub her head against my knee." 
 
 ' Oh, great God, are there not chords even 
 in this man's heart wliich may be touched to 
 tenderness ! Oh, blessed and pitiful Virgin, 
 he held once a mother and Thou a son ! 
 
 ' " I give you your choice," he continued. 
 " Bare your back to my executioner ; we will 
 
154 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 only flog you to within an inch of your Hfe ; 
 and Donna shall be yours." And he added : 
 '* Do you like to have her hck your hand and 
 rub her head against your knee ? " 
 
 ' Only think of this, mon ami — of this to 
 me^ a soldier of France ! 
 
 ' " I cast your infamous proposition back 
 in your teeth ! " I cried ; and now I rushed 
 upon him, ready to struggle to the death. " I 
 am a soldier and an officer : my honour is 
 dearer to me than my life." 
 
 ' " You have chosen," he answered, and as 
 he spoke I was seized by his vile companions, 
 who held me as in a vice. 
 
 ' Monsieur, I was one and they were two ; 
 I was old and comparatively feeble, they were 
 young and vigorous ; yet twice I wrenched 
 my pinioned arms loose ere I was conquered. 
 
 ' It was he who struck her — he^ who had 
 once loved to feel her lick his hand and rub 
 her soft head against his knee I When I saw 
 
THE REASON WHY 155 
 
 the red blood spout from tlie wound, my 
 spirit succumbed as well as my body ; my 
 love was stronger than my honour. I cried 
 out : " Do with me as you will, but spare 
 her ! " 
 
 'I yielded in vain, monsieur. He only 
 struck again, laughing and saying : " You 
 have chosen, and I know now which punish- 
 ment is the greater." 
 
 'She was not long in dying. The first 
 blow, or the terror of it, stunned her on the 
 spot, for she uttered no further sound. When 
 he paused and they liberated me, we all stood 
 still a moment — the murderers as well as I — 
 with bated breath and paling faces, for some- 
 thing terrible seemed to rise up from the spot, 
 red with her life-blood, and to stand there in 
 the midst of us. 
 
 ' No one spoke a word when I hfted her 
 and pressed her to my heart. No one sought 
 to hinder me. I passed unmolested through 
 
156 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 the midst of them, opened the door of the 
 cottage, and stepped out into the porch. 
 
 ' There I turned, quite tearless and com- 
 posed, and said quietly — more quietly than 
 ever — for God was speaking, and all creation 
 holding its breath to listen : 
 
 ' " Prince, we shall meet again, and it will 
 be my turn then. Look — and I raised the 
 dog high — look at the debt you have incurred, 
 and remember that it must all be paid to the 
 uttermost farthing." 
 
 ' I buried her, monsieur, in a little dell 
 in the forest, where, over her grave, violets 
 would spring and birds warble. But I shed 
 no tear over the spot, nor uttered one moan, 
 nor chanted one requiem. The heavier a 
 blow is the more it stuns, and feeling? at its 
 intensest is as silent as the tomb. 
 
 ' Only a dog, monsieur, only a dog, and 
 yet God knows ! ' 
 
 As he ceased, plucking fiercely at his 
 
THE REASON WHY 157 
 
 moustache, I heard a deep sigh float towards 
 us over the water, and a muttered sound, which 
 seemed to issue from the base of tlie moun- 
 tains. The air was agitated and two or three 
 huge fish leaped suddenly, close to the boat's 
 prow. I looked up to the sky and saw that 
 its blue was beflecked by many a flying cloud, 
 all hastening towards the sun, now strongly 
 inclinino^ towards the west. ' Monsieur,' I 
 cried, ' we have forgotten the boatman's 
 warning. I cannot see Mount Pilate, but is it 
 not a certain sign of a storm when the fish 
 are so restless ? Had I not better pull for the 
 shore ? ' 
 
158 THROUGH LOVE TO UFE 
 
 CHAPTEE Xn. 
 
 THE FOHX. 
 
 solve me the riddle of human life, 
 
 The riddle as terrible as it is old, 
 
 Tell me what is the meaning of man ? 
 Whence doth he come ? and for where is he bound ? 
 
 Translated from Heine. 
 
 I HAD hardly uttered these words before the 
 air was darkened and the sun as completely- 
 hidden as if he had already sunk behind 
 the mountains. Huge masses of cloud covered 
 the sky, which had turned to an indescrib- 
 able colour. It was neither purple nor red, 
 but looked as if it were illuminated by 
 some gigantic and infernal firework shining 
 through a dense veil of mist. And it spread 
 and spread, until not only the firmament, but 
 
THE FOHN 159 
 
 also the surroundinc^ mountains and the water 
 itself, micrht have been notliinj:^ more tanc^ible 
 than the smoke of hell's own fire. 
 
 And in the midst of this our boat stood 
 still — struck motionless; wrapt round with a 
 brightly gleaming pall. 
 
 We not only felt the lurid death all around 
 us, but we smelt and tasted it too. Upon our 
 heads, upon our hands, upon our lungs, it 
 weighed with crushing power. It was not so 
 much the water that we feared ; it was the air. 
 
 Nature was dumb, and with a menacinsf 
 finger on our lips struck us dumb too. 
 
 I tried my utmost to break the awful 
 charm, but only a feeble sigh issued from my 
 loaded breast. 
 
 As if even this faint sound had subdued 
 the spell, something unseen and terrible, 
 perhaps the spirit of the lake, sighed a deep 
 echo. A large fish sprang so high and close 
 to me, that the water it disturbed splashed 
 
i6o THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 my face. The air became violently agitated, 
 and a deep bell rang out a solemn warning 
 from the shore. A phantom sound, ringing 
 out our knell. 
 
 I looked at Moppert. With wide, dilated 
 eyes he looked back at me. 
 
 Then, with a gasp, my voice came back 
 to me. ' Good God ! ' I cried, ' tell me what 
 to do ! ' I instinctively felt that man's help 
 would be in vain. 
 
 ' Mon ami^ said Moppert in a voice as 
 hoarse and hopeless as the croak of a raven, 
 ' do you know what that bell is saying ? ' 
 
 I could not answer him. I clutched the 
 oars again. If I had to die, I would die 
 fighting. 
 
 ' It is the herald of the Fohn,' continued 
 Moppert. ' It is to tell the people to put out 
 their fires and candles and to pray for the 
 souls of those upon the lake.' 
 
THE FOHN i6i 
 
 For their souls only, and I was yet so 
 young, so young ! 
 
 I saw Moppert, with the lurid light upon 
 his pallid face, looking round wildly as if to 
 find some ray of hope in any one point of the 
 compass. I saw him cross himself, and clasp 
 his hands and bow his head, at finding none. 
 
 ' Let us pray,' he said. ' Cathohc or Pro- 
 testant, there is but one God, and He is 
 almighty.' 
 
 I was still so young, so young ! I would 
 break that sombre curtain and die, at least, in 
 the open. I would not be pent up in a grave 
 while yet ahve. 
 
 I pulled at the oars. The boat moved 
 again. 
 
 I pulled at the oars till they bent in 
 my hands. We were probably rushing upon 
 death ; but anything was better than to sit 
 still in hopeless waiting. 
 
 In the meantime the sighs from the unseen 
 
 VOL. I. M 
 
i62 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 spirit had increased in volume and intensity, 
 until at last they rose to piercing shrieks, 
 which might have been uttered under the 
 agony of some infernal rack, beyond even 
 the power of a sj)irit to endure. And now 
 the placid water began to shudder, and to 
 rock us as fiercely upon her bosom as an 
 angry nurse might rock an unruly child. 
 
 The lurid hght had faded, and the 
 darkness grew so intense that I could no 
 longer see Moppert. The horror of being 
 quite alone in the midst of this awful exhibi- 
 tion of God's power was too great to be 
 endured, and I cried out to him to come 
 to me. 
 
 He came at once, creeping along the 
 bottom of the boat, until his hand touched 
 my knee and his warm breath was on my 
 cheek. And we clung together, comforted 
 even in this crisis by that human sympathy 
 which is the most precious thing God has 
 
THE FOHN 163 
 
 given us, and which can help us even in the 
 agony of death. 
 
 ' Forgive me,' I said ; ' forgive the wicked 
 obstinacy which refused to heed honest 
 warning, and which has cost us both our 
 lives.' 
 
 ' Forgive me^ he answered ; ' I was older, 
 and ouo'ht to have been wiser.' 
 
 Alas ! he spoke in the past tense already. 
 
 Then the black pall shrouding earth and 
 heaven was rent asunder for a moment by a 
 flamino- sword of fire. I saw his face again 
 once more and lie saw mine. 
 
 He was looking his fate full in her terrible 
 eyes with the calm, resigned look of a soldier 
 and a hero. He was not afraid to die. Yet 
 when we embraced, my first and last pas- 
 sionate prayer went up to God to save him, 
 and let me alone bear the punishment. 
 
 The vivid light had hardly been succeeded 
 by darkness which might be felt, when the 
 
 x 2 
 
i64 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 mountains answered it in a prolonged roar 
 which almost deafened us, for Eigi and Frohn- 
 alp and Uri Eothstock were lifting up their 
 deep-toned voices in a hoarse appeal to God. 
 
 The waves ran so high now, and our frail 
 boat was rocked so violently in the awful 
 cradle of the deep, that we could hardly keep 
 our seats at all, and the oars fell from my 
 hands. Moppert was praying alone as we 
 knelt down together with clasped hands. I 
 could not pray. My mind was full of strange 
 thoughts — yet not strange, perhaps, there, 
 upon the threshold of eternity. 
 
 For I thought how short my life had been, 
 and how sinfully wasted, and of how little 
 value was my million of inheritance at this 
 supreme moment — an inheritance which would 
 not buy even one short day wherein to 
 repent. 
 
 Thought how little worth was anything 
 that men deem valuable — worldly honour, 
 
THE buHN 165 
 
 worldly riches, name and fame. Thought of 
 that treasure in lieaven, which my nurse had 
 told me was the only thing of any importance 
 for luiman beins^s who must die. 
 
 CI? 
 
 Thought of that dear nurse herself, with her 
 soft rippling hair, and gentle face, and strong 
 hands, forcing me to be good. Thought of her 
 one burst of passion, and her penitence, and of 
 the cruel thing that weaned a brother from a 
 sister, and must answer that. 
 
 Thought of my long-forgotten nursery high 
 up among the chimney-pots, with its one print 
 of sick Lazarus at the rich man's gate. 
 Thought of a girl's saucy face and sobbing 
 longing to be good, and of a French chanson 
 and its gay refrain. 
 
 Thought of my neglected sisters, and of 
 my father in Ballyacora Hall, and of whr.t 
 th-ey would say when the news of my death 
 reached them. And of the duke's daughter, 
 to whom I should never be married after all. 
 
i66 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 Thought of my noble friends and of the 
 life to which they had introduced me, and of 
 a certain billet doux in my dressing-case with 
 a burning cheek yet. Thought of certain 
 floggings at Eton, and of the pattern of the 
 paper in my room at home, and of the dinner 
 I had ordered at the hotel and which would 
 never be eaten, and of Aileen's moist kisses 
 on my cheek. 
 
 Thought of Patsey my groom, and of the 
 licking I had given him, and whether he would 
 remember or whether he would forget. 
 Thought of a thousand thino-s as ridiculous 
 as these, until I laughed aloud, with my hand 
 still in Moppert's and our boat still rocking 
 in that awful cradle of the deep. 
 
 Thought of the beautiful lady on the 
 promenade at Lucerne, and of the devil beside 
 her, until, looking up, I saw them both — I 
 swear it — the tears yet undriedupon her cheeks, 
 his lips white with passion, hers with terror. 
 
THE FOHN 167 
 
 Then I cried out to Moppert, for this last 
 was more than I could endure. 
 
 As I cried, something struck us a terrible 
 blow. Our boat rose right up in the water, 
 and then fell back again, casting us into the 
 seething abyss. I lost my hold of Moppert 
 in a fierce struggle to retain something I 
 was losing — I hardly knew what. Then the 
 struggle ceased, and I fell into a deep sleep. 
 And oh, what perfect rest, what peace 
 wondrous and inexpressible came to me with 
 death ! 
 
i68 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A NEW THERESE. 
 
 Ach ! so grenzt des Geistes hoh'res Leben 
 
 Oft an Tod, und oline Wiederkehr 
 Sinkt, werin wir am bessern Dasejn schweben. 
 
 Psyche tief hinab ins Sinnenmeer ! 
 Selig, wem des Herzens Flammentriebe 
 Friili sicb lantern zu der reineren Liebe ! 
 
 K. W. JrsTi. 
 
 What a dream I had had, to be sure ! Not 
 of lier either ; all about the nearly forgotten 
 Therese and that foolish French chanson of 
 hers. The refrain was in my ears when I 
 awoke ; soft and low, as if being still sung in 
 the years that were gone. 
 
 ' Tra la la ! ' Where was I, pray ? Where 
 had I been last ? 
 
A NEW TH^RkSE 169 
 
 Memory, although shaky and confused, 
 appeared in answer to the summons. Where 
 had I been last ? Why, at the bottom of 
 Lucerne, dead as a stone ! 
 
 True ; then where was I now ? In heaven 
 or in — the other place ? 
 
 I listened. There were sounds falling on 
 my ear besides the distant sound of song — 
 harsh, unmelodious, guttural sounds. Bass 
 and shrill treble. A man's voice and a 
 woman's. 
 
 Do people remain men and women in 
 heaven ? No, we have Biblical authority for 
 asserting that they neither marry nor are 
 given in marriage there, but are as the angels. 
 This, then, was — the other place. 
 
 Oh, how their hard hands hurt me ! 
 how mercilessly they pulled me hither and 
 thithier ! how they mouthed and maltreated 
 the noble lamruaore of the fatherland ! 
 
 And now the distant son^r swelled, cominsf 
 
I70 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 nearer and nearer, until at last it resolved 
 itself into words : 
 
 A la fet' du hameau, 
 
 A h ! comm' c'est beau ! 
 
 Tout's les filles 
 Vont, au son du violon, 
 
 Su' I'vert gazon 
 
 Danser en rond : 
 Tra, dera, la, la. la, la, la, la, la, 
 N'faut pas danser comme 9a, 
 
 la, la ; 
 L'Amour yous attend la. 
 
 Then this was purgatory. 
 
 No, it was heaven after all ! A new pre- 
 sence was bending^ over me. A new atmos- 
 phere, delicately perfumed — ugh ! the former 
 had been smoke-sullied — saluted my nose. A 
 glow was rising to my face in glad response to 
 a warm ray of sunshine. 
 
 I raised my heavy lids and dimly saw a 
 rainbow face : two smiling eyes in which tears 
 yet sparkled, the whitest of pearly teeth 
 gleaming between coral lips. 
 
A NEW THERkSE 171 
 
 ' Therese,' I said, ' is this heaven, and are 
 you dead too ? ' 
 
 I say, I said^ but it was only my lips 
 which moved, no sound was audible. 
 
 ' See, Yiiterli ; see, Fleurette ; he is moving, 
 he is trying to speak ! He will not die ! ' cried 
 an easier voice. Then arose a hubbub of 
 sound, during which my mind wandered off 
 again into a region where thought is not. A 
 horror of great darkness fell upon me, in 
 the midst of which I was only sensible of a 
 strucfs^le back to the lic^lit. 
 
 It was a man's voice which penetrated the 
 shadows afresh and opened anew a window in 
 my brain. He spoke the Swiss patois, but 
 slowly and carefully, as if his tongue had not 
 always been accustomed to the gutturals. 
 
 ' The Herr Doctor was not at home, sayest 
 thou ?• ' 
 
 ' No, father, but I left word that he should 
 come.' 
 
172 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 ' Thou went away crying and came back 
 singing, Mlldel. Thou art hke thy dead 
 mother, who died because she couldn't sing 
 any more.' 
 
 ' Ah, that would kill me too,' said the girl. 
 
 'I believe thee well. But see, the gen- 
 tleman is opening his eyes again — a foohsh 
 Englishman whom Providence has cared for 
 beyond his deserts, doubtless.' 
 
 'He — he does not look foolish,' said the 
 girl, charming open my heavy lids anew, as 
 she bent over me and gently touched my face 
 with her hand. 
 
 ' You are better. You are safe,' she cried 
 with confidence. ' We hardly want the doctor 
 now.' 
 
 To which I answered slowly and pain- 
 fully : 
 
 ' Therese, why did you go away, and why 
 have you come back to me ? ' 
 
 And I added, striving hard to be heard : 
 
A NEW THERESE 173 
 
 'And why do you speak this ugly language, 
 instead of your own which is so soft and 
 musical ? ' 
 
 ^Er kennt mich ja!' she cried, amazed. 
 ' Yes, I am Therese ; how do you know it ? ' 
 
 'He is wandering in his mind,' said the 
 man, advancing nearer to me. Then he con- 
 tinued in loud, emphatic English : 
 
 ' I am an Englishman, sir. Me and some 
 others pulled you out of the lake an hour or 
 two ago. 'Twas a close shave, but it's all 
 right now.' 
 
 Not all right. Anything but right. For 
 as surely as the other was Therese, so surely 
 this was William. I tried to rise, but was so 
 tightly bound that I could not. 
 
 ' Am I alive ? ' 
 
 ' Ay, ahve sure enough, and if not kicking 
 yet, you will be soon, doubtless.' 
 
 Kicking ! Had I any legs to kick with ? 
 I was conscious of none. 
 
174 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 ' Give him a drop of cherry brandy,' said 
 the man, turning to speak to someone behind 
 him ; ' he's going again. And, Therese, run 
 and open the door, Mddel. I hear the doctor 
 coming at last.' 
 
 These were the last intelligible words I 
 heard during many and many a day. 
 
 For Feeling, angry at her long banishment, 
 now came back with a rush, running fiercely 
 through every tortured nerve, and leaving 
 behind her a burning track of pain. 
 
 The other senses fled while she racked 
 me, or remained behind only to confound and 
 mislead. 
 
 At last Feeling, tired of her cruel work, 
 paused to rest, and I fell into a deep 
 sleep. 
 
 It was evening when I awoke, roused from 
 slumber by a distant murmur of many voices, 
 the flowing of water, and certain dull thuds 
 which were incomprehensible. I listened until 
 
A NEW TH^R^SE 175 
 
 curiosity overcame listlessness, and I opened 
 my eyes to try if I could see. 
 
 A dimly burning lamp, depending from a 
 beam in the ceiling, gave light enough to show 
 that I was lying on a narrow bed in a large, 
 barely furnished room, and so closely smothered 
 in blankets and loaded with coverlets that it 
 was no wonder I could not move. An empty 
 chair stood by my bedside, a huge wardrobe 
 and huger stove completed the furniture. On 
 the wooden, roughly carved walls hung some 
 prints of impossible Virgins and impossible 
 Infants. At the foot of my bed stood a 
 woman, short and dumpy, low-browed and 
 long-chinned, contemplating me with the dull 
 stare of soulless curiosity. As my eyes met 
 those of this woman she opened her mouth 
 wider than they, but uttered not a word. 
 
 Between wardrobe and stove was a door 
 slightly ajar, through which issued the sounds 
 I have mentioned and also the fumes of un- 
 
176 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 mistakable tobacco smoke and the smell of 
 Lagerhier. As I looked and pondered, this 
 door opened further still, admitting the tall, 
 slight figure of a maiden. 
 
 ' Fleurette,' she said softly, ' one has need 
 of thee.' 
 
 This maiden was dressed in a short blue 
 petticoat and scarlet Mieder (bodice), the 
 latter tightly laced over as exquisite a bust as 
 sculptor ever modelled. Her shoulders and 
 dimpled arms were bare. Her shapely little 
 feet hardly seemed to touch the ground they 
 trod on, while her rich black hair, tied with 
 a scarlet ribbon, fell in one broad plait far 
 below her waist. 
 
 Therese ! Therese in Swiss costume ! I 
 was certain of it. The same mobile face ; the 
 same saucy poise of the head ; the same con- 
 tradictory and ever-changing expression, for at 
 first the brown eyes were laughing, while the 
 lips remained sedate and grave ; and now 
 
A NEW TH^RkSE 17 y 
 
 the eyes swam in tears and the hps were 
 smihng. 
 
 Therese. Why had she come back to me, 
 now that another love had taken possession of 
 my heart ? 
 
 WilHam too. WilHam, looking over her 
 shoulder with a grave, benevolent satisfaction, 
 right into my face. I should hardly have 
 shared this satisfaction but for the other love 
 I spoke of. Now I did, and smiled my con- 
 gratulations. 
 
 ' How I hated you once, William,' I said, 
 as a second masculine head — a young and 
 handsome one — appeared in the doorway, and 
 an impatient masculine voice summoned back 
 Therese. The beer, the voice said, was hardly 
 worth the drinking without the Mddel. 
 
 ' But now,' I added, mairnanimouslv, ' I 
 congratulate you with all my heart.' And I 
 tried to lift the heavy bedclotlies and to put 
 out my hand. 
 
 VOL. I. N 
 
178 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 'Sir,' he said, amazed, 'I am William, 
 doubtless, but I do not know you from Adam.' 
 
 ' I used to pincli your calves,' I said, look- 
 ing down at those members, now shrunk and 
 lean. 
 
 He looked down at them himself and then 
 at me, and his amazement deepened. 
 
 ' I'm all abroad yet,' he said ; ' I can't make 
 neither head nor tail of it.' 
 
 ' Do you remember going away in a cab 
 with Therese, and a little passionate boy look- 
 ing on, full of rao^e and grief?' 
 
 ' Ah-h ! ' 
 
 'And a gloomy London house with fog 
 outside often, and always fog within ? ' 
 
 ' Ah-h-h ! ' 
 
 ' I am glad you married her, William. I 
 am glad you seem so happy and comfortable. 
 I am glad ' 
 
 But my magnanimity was checked by a 
 sudden reflection. I looked ac^ain at Wilham. 
 
A NEW TH^RkSE 179 
 
 Some seventeen years had passed since I last 
 saw him, and their footsteps were plainly- 
 enough traced upon his bronzed face ; whereas 
 Therese was younger, brighter, prettier than 
 ever. 
 
 ' She is not your wife, is she ? ' I inquired, 
 somewhat confusedly. 
 
 'My wife died sixteen year ago — sixteen 
 year ago,' he repeated, with a deep sigh. 
 
 ' And this Therese ? ' 
 
 ' This Therese ' — and now his hard face 
 softened, and a radiant light came into his 
 eyes — ' this one is my httle Mddel — my Toch- 
 terlein.' 
 
 It was my turn now to utter a long-drawn 
 ' Ah ! ' 
 
 ' I reckon I know you now,' he continued, 
 ' and I thank God A'mighty once more that 't 
 was me as drew you out of the water, for she 
 were fond of you.' 
 
 He paused again, putting his hand to his 
 
 K 2 
 
i8o THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 furrowed brow as if the word had aroused a 
 host of painful recollections ; then continued 
 in a more cheerful voice : 
 
 ' You was a Tartar in them days, Master 
 Charles, sure enough. Such a little chap too 
 to be so much in love I I've laughed about 
 it many a time with her, until we both laughed 
 no longer, because ' 
 
 He broke off anew to put one arm around 
 his daughter's waist and lift the other to her 
 round cheek as she came up to his side. How 
 oddly the action affected me as they stood 
 thus a moment together — the new Wilham 
 and the old Therese ! 
 
i8z 
 
 CHAPTEE XIY. 
 
 MY LITTLE MISTRESS. 
 
 Cari sunt liberi, propinqui, familiares : sed omnes omnium 
 caritates patria una complexa est. — Cicero, De Officiis. 
 
 We became very good friends in due time, 
 this Tlierese and I. For it was she who 
 nursed me. aided by Wilham, until I could 
 stand upon my own shaky legs again. 
 
 I wonder if there is any connection for 
 the time, except that of husband and wife, 
 more close and intimate than the connection 
 of patient and nurse ? I wonder if there 
 is any more dangerous, when both are 
 young ? 
 
 Not that there was any danger for us — 
 
i83 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 not the remotest. I had made her my con- 
 fidante. 1 had enhsted her warm sympathies 
 on behalf of the beautiful, unfortunate lady 
 whom I loved. 
 
 Whom I loved. Is love necessarily the 
 growth of months ? Can it not spring up, 
 like Jonah's gourd, in a night ? 
 
 It did not in the least interfere with my 
 liking for my pretty nurse. I liked well, I 
 confess it, to see her by my bedside. I liked 
 her tyranny. I hked our daily quarrels, 
 specially when they were over. Above all, 
 I liked — couldn't have done without — the 
 makings-up. 
 
 I had found out the meaning of the mys- 
 terious thuds, and why tobacco smoke and 
 Lagerhier perpetually perfumed the place. 
 "William was owner and landlord of a small 
 public-house {ScJienlce), a favourite resort for 
 men of all ages. Therese was its pretty, 
 feminine attraction. 
 
MV LITTLE MISTRESS 183 
 
 It was morning. The sunshine was 
 streaminiT in warm and bris^lit through 
 the diamond - shaped window-panes, tinging 
 Thei'ese's bhick hair with a j^olden jzHtter and 
 making the knitting-needles in her busy hand 
 twinkle like fireflies as they flashed hither and 
 thither in the light. 
 
 A question which had haunted me for 
 long — ever since I could think at all of other 
 than my pain — hovered on my lips, but, like 
 a coward, lacked courage to go further. 
 
 'Therese,' I said, breaking the silence in 
 order to brace myself, ' to-day I really feel as 
 if I were going to get better.' 
 
 ' Ei^ naturlicli^ she answered, laughing, 
 ' we never meant to let you die, monsieur.' 
 
 I watched the grey stocking lengthening 
 in her hands, resolvmg to speak at every turn. 
 Thrice I even uttered an inarticulate sound ; 
 thrice Therese's bright eyes were turned 
 towards me, and her rosy lips opened to an 
 
1 84 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 ' Eh^ monsieur?' thrice I cleared my throat, 
 and made beheve that that was all I 
 wanted. 
 
 'If you will be good, monsieur,' said 
 Therese, after consulting my watch and 
 forcing me to swallow two tablespoonfuls of 
 a disgusting mixture — enjoying my suffer- 
 ings, the minx, with all her heart — and won't 
 get excited, why perhaps I'll tell you some- 
 thing.' 
 
 Perhaps, forsooth ! That was her way 
 of tormenting me. Nevertheless, a touch of 
 earnestness in her saucy voice made me turn 
 pale and tremble. 
 
 ' Ei ! ei I if you are going to look like that, 
 monsieur, I'll run away and send old Fleurette 
 to come and sit beside you. You will go off 
 to sleep again like a lamb with Fleurette ; for ' 
 — with an irresistible little grimace — ' it makes 
 one sleepy only to look at her.' 
 
 ' Wait till I am well, mein Frduleiji, and 
 
MV LITTLE MISTRESS 185 
 
 see if 1 don't pay yoii out then for your 
 treatment of me now.' 
 
 ' Treatment ! Der II err hat gut sprechen. 
 I should Hke to know who would have given 
 him his drops so regularly, or mixed his mus- 
 tard plasters so strong, or applied the leeches 
 to his aching temples, if / hadn't been there ! ' 
 
 ' Grausames Geschopf ! It is to you, then, 
 that I am indebted for the tortures inflicted 
 upon me ! Never mind, I promise not to 
 forc^et it.' 
 
 ' No fear of that,' said Therese, tossing her 
 pretty head and threatening me with a sharp- 
 pointed knitting-needle. ' Die Eerren Eng- 
 Idnder are known all the world over for their 
 profound memory for injuries, and the extreme 
 shortness of their memories for benefits they 
 have received. Even my father, who has 
 lived -lonof enouf^^h with warmer-hearted folk 
 to know better, never remembers my good 
 deeds when he is angry ; but only the one 
 
1 86 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 little act, hardly worth noticing, which has 
 aroused his ire.' 
 
 'It's easy to say that, but you forget, 
 mam'selle, that you are half English yourself.' 
 
 ' No, monsieur, not a quarter English, 
 thank heaven ! All my heart belongs to 
 Switzerland, and if I had to live anywhere 
 else I should pine away and die. My father 
 tried, when I was little, to instil English dul- 
 ness into me ; and tries, now that I am big, to 
 scold me into beim? as hard and stiff and 
 kaltbliitig as his countrywomen. I have seen 
 many of them in Lucerne, and you would 
 think (for they are as cold and hard-looking 
 as the Gletscher upon our mountains) that 
 they had never learned to laugh or cry or 
 sing or dance.' 
 
 She was at a stumbling-block in her 
 stocking just now, and bent her dark head 
 over it for a moment without speaking. 
 
 ' Ach ! only a slipped stitch, monsieur, 
 
MY LITTLE MISTRESS 187 
 
 which remmds me that I have been told not 
 to talk to YOU, and not to let you talk too 
 much either.' 
 
 ' Unsinn, maiden ! Go on.' 
 
 ' Monsieur thinks he has but to command, 
 and that of course Thereschen must obey. 
 But Therese doesn't like to obey ; she likes to 
 have someone to tease and torment all the 
 livelong day. Ah, monsieur need not make 
 such big eyes. I am as hard-hearted as a 
 stone.' 
 
 ' Wait till I am well ag-ain.' 
 
 ' Besides,' she went on, ' what pleasure can 
 it be to a warm-blooded Swiss girl to talk to a 
 cold-blooded Engldnder^ or to try and make 
 him understand what love of country means, 
 nor with what joy and pride we Swiss look 
 up to our noble mountains, knowing that 
 there is nothing else half so beautiful on 
 earth ? ' 
 
 ' What an impassioned little patriot it is ! ' 
 
i88 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 ' How you Englishmen must hate your 
 England, monsieur, to run away from it as 
 you do, as if there was pestilence in the very 
 wind which blows over it. Hul I have 
 heard of it — a dark, grey country, where 
 there is neither summer nor winter ; only fog 
 and mist and smoke. France is better than 
 that, though not half so good as Switzer- 
 land. Wouldn't monsieur give half of his 
 fortune, now, to have been born in this won- 
 derful country of ours ? ' 
 
 ' England is a more wonderful country 
 still, Therese.' 
 
 ' Oh, I will not talk to monsieur any more. 
 I will sing a French chanson^ as gay as the song 
 of a skylark ; all about love and laughter, 
 where the woods dance to the measure. 
 Monsieur would make me else, in the twinkling 
 of an eye, as dull and dismal as he is himself. 
 I had nearly lost my temper. I will go look 
 for it, and find it again in a song.' 
 
MV LITTLE MISTRESS 189 
 
 How wonderfully pretty the girl looked, 
 as she broke out in a gleeful melody, her 
 dark eyes flashing, her cheeks bright with 
 unwonted colour (she had inherited her 
 mother's southern clear sallowness), and the 
 sunshine playing hide-and-seek in her raven 
 hair ! Now in words, now in sono^, how 
 continuously and uninterruptedly the spark- 
 ling stream flowed from between her scarlet 
 lips ! I forgot everything again but lazy 
 pleasure and content as I lay watching 
 her. 
 
 ' It is strange,' she continued, after a short 
 pause — while I observed, and wondered at it, 
 that when she was silent her hands ceased 
 to work too, and when the stream of talk 
 bubbled out most irrepressibly her fingers 
 played a quick accompaniment — ' it is strange, 
 though, that my father will talk of " Old 
 England " ' — these last two words were brought 
 out with the prettiest foreign accent imagin- 
 
I90 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 able — ' as if he loved it, and my grand- 
 mother wore out her old heart in pining for 
 la helle France ! Monsieur, why do you 
 sigh? You are disobeying me and getting 
 excited.' 
 
 ' You have not told me yet what you said 
 you would.' 
 
 ' Because you are not good. Your cheek 
 is flushed ; perhaps a leech ' 
 
 ' I am not going to stand it. If you 
 venture to bring one of the horrible creatures 
 into the room ' 
 
 'Monsieur, there is a bottle of them in 
 the cupboard.' 
 
 ' Then I desire that they are instantly 
 thrown into the lake.' 
 
 ' Thrown into the lake ! Why it would 
 be as much as my life is worth to attempt it. 
 I know I should be thrown in after them. 
 But, perhaps, that, too, is what Monsieur 
 desires.' 
 
MV LITTLE MISTRESS 191 
 
 ' I desire that you will sit down beside me 
 again and tell me instantly the news you 
 promised.' 
 
 ' Well I Well I I never thought to find 
 the tales I have heard of Eng;lish in^atitude 
 so speedily verified. Yesterday, and all the 
 days before, it was : "Liebe Therese, bitte, bitte" 
 or " Thereschen, du bist mein rettender Engel" 
 or '' Kind^ ich werde nie vergessen was du mir 
 gethan^'' and to-day, nothing but desires and 
 commands and threats. Oh, die Herren 
 Engldnder are all the same, every one of 
 them ! I will go and cook the Suppe and 
 send Fleurette, who is as deaf as a post, to 
 come and sit beside you.' 
 
 ' Send Fleurette at your peril,' I rejoined, 
 seizing the perverse little hand and pressing it 
 to my hps. ' And now that I have you fast, 
 tell me the news this moment.' 
 
 What a strange girl she was ! her mood 
 as variable as the zigzag fiight of the swallow. 
 
192 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 She had been scolding me before with a 
 contradictory sparkle in her eye ; now it 
 flashed out a lightning ray, and her lip 
 quivered. She rose up from her seat by my 
 bedside as haughtily as an offended princess. 
 ' What is the matter, Therese ? ' 
 'Monsieur is not in England,' she an- 
 swered, turning away her flushing cheek, 
 ' and will have to learn that his commands 
 are not law in Switzerland. Sit down again ? 
 Certainly not, until monsieur has learned to 
 control himself a little, and to behave like a 
 gentleman.' 
 
 ' Good heavens ! what have I done ? ' 
 ' Done ! Is monsieur lord of Europe that 
 he ventures to assume a tone so arrogant — to 
 command where he should obey ? ' 
 
 ' Well,' I said, falling back upon my pil- 
 low, ' the man who marries you will have his 
 hands full ? ' 
 
 ' And th-e woman who marries you, 
 
MV LITTLE MISTRESS 193 
 
 monsieur, had need be born without a heart 
 at all.' 
 
 ' I've nothing further to say, Therese.' 
 ' Nor have I. Except — except that I was 
 told not to excite you ; and your cheek is 
 flushed, and your eye bright, and your breatli- 
 ing hurried and unequal. Let me give you 
 your medicine, monsieur, and let us quarrel 
 when you are better.' 
 
 She was looking at me now with a softened 
 and a troubled eye, and the hand with which 
 she smoothed my pillow trembled a little. I 
 was quick to seize my advantage, and cunning 
 enough to try a new form of inducement. 
 
 ' Thereschen, you can make some allow- 
 ance for a sick man, cannot you ? I am 
 afraid of the news you have promised me, but 
 I am still more afraid of the uncertainty. It 
 is that which is agitating me. Be good to me, 
 Therese. Bo tell me.' 
 
 ' There,' she said, smiling, yet pricked to 
 VOL. I. 
 
194 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 the quick by my tone of supplication, ' you 
 have given me tit for tat with a vengeance, 
 monsieur. I am as submissive to your do as 
 I was impervious to your miust. But get 
 agitated at your peril ! The moment you 
 begin, I am gone.' 
 
 How could I help getting agitated ? My 
 heart began to beat quick and fast ; my eyes 
 grew dim. Yet surely she had no bad news to 
 communicate. Surely no one could contem- 
 plate the terrible solemnity of death with 
 those laughing eyes and that dimpling cheek. 
 
 ' You will let me take up the heel of my 
 stocking first, will you not, monsieur? ' she said, 
 ' and then I can talk on without interruption.' 
 
 But this was a little too stron^ a strain on 
 my endurance. I broke down under it, and 
 cried out petulantly : ' If you only knew, 
 Therese, what I have suffered, how terribly 
 I have been racked by alternate hope and 
 fear, you would not have the heart ' 
 
Jl/V LITTLE MISTRESS 195 
 
 Here my new weapon fell so heavily on her 
 that she winced and paled under it, for my 
 voice was choked with a sob, and the tears 
 were rising. 
 
 She had thrown down her knitting in- 
 stantly, and now knelt by my bedside in the 
 completeness of her penitence ; her bare 
 dimpled elbows on the counterpane, her 
 sweet remorseful face supported by a pair of 
 shapely hands — hands more accustomed to 
 cuff than to caress, but oh ! so thrilling in 
 their contact when they did ! — her dark eyes 
 meeting mine full of a sweet motherly relent- 
 ing, as if they would plead, ' My teasing was 
 all love upside-down,' while her voice, when 
 she spoke, was as soft as that of any cooing 
 dove. 
 
 ' You will break my heart if you look at 
 me -like that, monsieur ; you must know that I 
 would not really hurt you for the world. Have 
 I been so very cruel to you ? If it had been 
 
 02 
 
196 IHROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 news of the fair lady, I wouldn't have kept it 
 from you for an instant, for I can guess how 
 eager you would have been for them — but a 
 little old man, kaum grosser als ich, how could 
 I imagine that your heart was so set on him ? 
 — one of a nation, too, who are the sworn 
 enemies of your England.' 
 
 I could not speak. So he had been saved 
 too, by a miracle ! 
 
 ' JRuliig I ruhig ! monsieur. You have no 
 need to be afraid. Did you think so badly of 
 Therese as to believe she could tease you 
 about so solemn and sad a thing as that you 
 feared ? He is to come again this afternoon to 
 see you, if the doctor finds you are none the 
 worse for the intelligence. That was why 
 I took so many precautions in telling you. 
 And I would ask you to forgive me, only that 
 I am still a little angry that you could think 
 so badly of me.' 
 
 She looked at me smiling, but I could not 
 
MV LITTLE MISTRESS 197 
 
 smile yet. I was vehemently struggling witli 
 tears, and getting worsted by them. Kemem- 
 ber, in my excuse, how weak I was. 
 
 'He has seen you once before, monsieur,' 
 continued Therese, still upon her knees. ' I 
 led him to the door between this and the 
 Schenkstuhe^ and let him look in upon you as 
 you slept, and he cried — the little man — lieher 
 Gott! as you are crying now.' 
 
 Then she broke down herself, and we cried 
 together as heartily and noisily as two chil- 
 dren. And (how it happened I do not know) 
 my hot head was on her bosom, and our lips 
 so close, so close, that at last they touched in- 
 voluntarily, separating again with a sound 
 which startled us into quietude. 
 
 The next moment she was gone, and I 
 alone, to wonder what we had done, and what 
 was* the meaning of it, and why forbidden 
 fruit is always the sweetest. 
 
 But when she came, half an hour after- 
 
198 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 wards, to administer the Suppe cooked by 
 Fleurette, there was no sign of shame on her 
 pale oval cheek, or of embarrassment in her 
 laughing eye. She was the old Therese 
 again ; in a dozen moods at once ; per- 
 emptory, supplicating ; haughty, humble ; 
 s"^eet as honey and bitter as quinine ; 
 sharp and gentle in a breath ; irresistible, in 
 short, to any man whose heart was not pre- 
 occupied as mine was. 
 
 But the kiss was forgotten, or ignored 
 completely. Mademoiselle was full of her 
 function, and harnessed with its authority to 
 the unflinching finger-tips. She approached 
 my bed with a resolute air, and stationed 
 herself beside it with the rigidity and deter- 
 mination of a sentinel on duty. 
 
 ' Open your mouth, monsieur.' The tone 
 of her voice was pregnant with an authority 
 which seemed to challenge opposition. 
 
 I accepted the challenge instantly, and 
 
MV LITTLE MISTRESS 199 
 
 threw down a ready gauntlet. Next to kiss- 
 ing Therese, nothing was pleasanter than 
 quarrelhng with her. At least at the mo- 
 ment I thought so. 
 
 ' What for, mein Frdulein ? ' 
 
 ' Asks " What for ? " when I am standing 
 with the spoon in one hand and the steaming 
 basin in the other ! But men are as blind as 
 moles, especially Englishmen.' 
 
 ' And chits, pretending to be women, are 
 as perverse as young fillies till they are 
 tamed by bit and bridle — especially cos- 
 mopolites, half Swiss, half English, and half 
 French.' 
 
 ' Three halves in a whole — is that an 
 English problem, monsieur ? Even our village 
 Lehrer taught me better than that. And, 
 talking of bits and bridles, there is such a 
 thing as a good Swiss RutheJ 
 
 ' Certainly, mein Frdulein. I hardly liked 
 
200 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 to suggest it ; but if you are sensible that 
 your iniquities rise to that alternative ' 
 
 'You asked me "What for? "just now, 
 monsieur, but I will tell you what not for. 
 
 Not to talk certainly, and not to ' Here 
 
 she stopped, blushing : a singularly infectious 
 blush, for my cheek instantly reflected it, and 
 our eyes fell simultaneously. Therese was 
 the first to recover her lost self-possession. 
 In some things women are a thousand times 
 cleverer than men. 
 
 ' Do you think the newly hatched nest- 
 lings ask " What for .^ " when the parent birds 
 bring the worm ? ' said Therese in atone of 
 sharp reprimand. ' Open your mouth this 
 moment, or ' 
 
 In defiance of the threatening ' sonst^ I 
 only opened it to speak again : 
 
 ' But I am not hungry, and am not a 
 newly hatched nestling, and if anybody 
 offered me a worm ' 
 
MV LITTLE MISTRESS 201 
 
 ' No credit to you/ interrupted Therese, 
 suddenly putting down her basin, and shift- 
 ing her spoon in a manner which made me 
 remember with some alarm my old nurse, and 
 the way in which she would sometimes, after 
 long waiting, administer medicine ; ' you might 
 have been, you know.' 
 
 This logic being unanswerable, as woman's 
 logic always is, I was dumb. Moreover, the 
 power of speech was momentarily taken from 
 me : my nurse's manner of coercion was not, 
 I found, peculiar to any nation, but the 
 common property of all ; the spoon was in 
 my mouth, and it was a case of swallowing or 
 choking. So I submitted in somewhat shame- 
 faced silence, and the Suppe being remarkably 
 good, and my appetite only emotionally in 
 abeyance and now coming fresh to the 
 fore, I resented the finale almost as much as 
 I had resented the brusque commencement. 
 
 ' Is that all?' I inquired, as the spoon ceased 
 
202 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 to travel from tlie basin to my mouth, and 
 
 Therese's busy hands were arranging the 
 
 pillows at my head. 
 
 ' That is all, monsieur.' 
 
 ' But I have not had half enough/ 
 
 ' Can't help it, monsieur ; you will not get 
 
 any more.' 
 
 ' One might think I was a baby.' 
 
 ' One might really often think so,' said 
 
 Therese, with ready acquiescence. 
 
 I was too sleepy to be angry. So I looked 
 
 up into the bright face of my Mutterchen^ and 
 
 she looked down on me, firm, though smiling. 
 ' Little tyrant ! ' I murmured. 
 ' Tyrant indeed ! ' And I saw the pretty 
 
 head toss just as my eyes were closing. ' But 
 
 what could you expect from an Engldnder ? 
 
 And now, monsieur, you are to go to sleep 
 
 this minute.' 
 
 I am not sure whether I only thought 
 
 or spoke the next words, to the effect that 
 
MV LITTLE MISTRESS 203 
 
 nothing should induce me. I only know that 
 I did go to sleep, perhaps because I knew 
 that Therese was not to be disobeyed with 
 impunity ; and slept as sweetly and peacefully 
 as if I had been in truth the baby Therese loved 
 to make of me. And I dreamed I was a doll, 
 and that the Mddel was my little mistress ; 
 that sometimes she beat and sometimes 
 caressed me, — always holding me though, so 
 that chastisement and reward were as like as 
 two peas, and hardly distinguishable, — very 
 close to her heart. 
 
204 THROUGH LOVE 70 LIFE 
 
 CHAPTEE XV. 
 
 THERESE. 
 
 Would st be loved by all the world, 
 Maiden, sweet as May in bloom, 
 
 Leave thy rosy lip uncurled. 
 Rest contented with thy doom. 
 
 Know that, Envy hateth most 
 What is lovely, sweet and fair ; 
 
 Know it is thy virtues' host 
 That she cannot, cannot bear. 
 
 I SLEPT well after hearing the good news 
 from Therese, and when the morning sun 
 streamed in again through the diamond- 
 shaped panes, Moppert was allowed to come 
 into my room. My eyes were too dim to see 
 him for a moment, but when they cleared, we 
 clasped hands and gazed into one another's 
 faces as friends might do, meeting in Eternity. 
 
TH^RkSE 20S 
 
 Then he sat down beside me, with a warn- 
 ing finger on his hp, and a look of sucli 
 sincere affection in his eyes that my own 
 filled again. 
 
 ' Ah, dear friend,' he said, ' I have offered 
 up a thousand prayers to Our Lady on your 
 behalf, and that they have been answered 
 seems to me a blessed omen for the future.' 
 
 I noticed with pain that he was replacing 
 his rifjht arm in a slino; from which he had 
 removed it during our hand-shake. 
 
 * Nothing of consequence ' he explained, 
 ' only a sprain which is all but healed again.' 
 
 ' How did it happen ? ' 
 
 ' Man ami^ I will tell you everything in 
 time, but to-day I have been severely restricted 
 as to the topic of our discourse, and it seems 
 to me that mademoiselle is a httle person who 
 expects to be obeyed. 
 
 I laughed and nodded, very emphatically. 
 
 ' Ah, monsieur, you have had a hard time 
 
2o6 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 of it no doubt with this little brunette ? She 
 has ruled you with a rod of iron ? ' 
 
 ' Not with one, monsieur, but with ten.' 
 
 ' Pommelled you sore, eh ? ' 
 
 ' Monsieur, I am one wound from head to 
 foot' 
 
 'Za coquine! And has she inflicted more 
 than flesh-wounds, monsieur ? Has she tried 
 her hand upon your heart ? ' 
 
 'Monsieur, I cannot tell what she might 
 have done ; she is capable of anything, but I 
 have no heart left to wound.' 
 
 ' Did you leave it behind you in the lake 
 for the water nixies ? ' 
 
 ' You know better than that, monsieur ; 
 you know where it is.' 
 
 'The cold water has not quenched your 
 ardour then ? You still think of the other ? ' 
 
 ' Oh, monsieur, if you only knew how 
 often and how much ! ' 
 
 ' Mon ami, your cheek is flushing and 
 
THJ^RkSE 207 
 
 your eye brightening. It is good. I am 
 content to see' it. But you must not let 
 Mademoiselle Therese misunderstand you ; 
 her giddy head might get some absurd idea 
 into it, which would grieve you, would it 
 not?' 
 
 He looked keenly at me as he put the 
 question. I answered impetuously ; 
 
 'Monsieur, it would grieve me so much, 
 that if I feared anything of the sort, I would 
 ask you to help me don my coat and panta- 
 loons, and lend me a helping hand to run 
 away.' 
 
 ' There is no danger then ? ' 
 
 ' I am very fond of Therese, monsieur, and 
 I think she hkes me too a little, though she 
 is so hard with me.' 
 
 ' Humph ! ' 
 
 I' went on recklessly, an irresistible im- 
 pulse driving me to confess. 
 
 ' We quarrel, but we make it up again, 
 
2o8 THROUGH LOVE 10 LI BE 
 
 and yesterday we solemnised our reconcilia- 
 tion with a kiss.' 
 
 ' What ! You have dared to embrace 
 her ! ' 
 
 ' Yes, monsieur. We are capital friends, 
 Therese and I. I like her as well as if she 
 were my sister. And she has a pretty mouth ; 
 don't you think so ? ' 
 
 ' Man without a conscience ; here is your 
 coat, here are your pantaloons ; put them on 
 this minute.' 
 
 ' Monsieur, I would rather be excused. 
 On the whole, I feel too weak to move yet. 
 This bed is not of down, yet my limbs have 
 ceased to ache, and now it seems easy. And 
 if my pretty nurse teases me, why, I can pay 
 her out in kisses.' 
 
 'And be paid out by her father in coin 
 less sweet but much more wholesome. Well, 
 I had hopes of you.' 
 
 ' Cherish them still, monsieur, for I have 
 
TH^RkSE 
 
 209 
 
 great hopes of mj^self. I have left my ennui 
 behind me in the lake. There is work for 
 me to do. The first work, with God's help, to 
 save her.' 
 
 ' Which her ? ' inquired Moppert, a doubt- 
 ful sparkle in his eye. 
 
 ' Was there never a time, monsieur, when 
 for you, as for me, the feminine pronoun 
 meant only one person — meant all the world, 
 in short ? ' 
 
 ' Ah, the poor Therese I ' 
 
 ' Do you think I would have kissed her, 
 or she me, if we had not both known ' 
 
 ' If you had both known that a horse- 
 wliipping was in store for you, it would have 
 been a wholesome reminder ; and, as for me, 
 I would not lift a finger to prevent it.' 
 
 ' Yes, you would, monsieur, for my pulse 
 never throbbed a throb quicker when our lips 
 met.' 
 
 ' But hers, hers, hers ? ' 
 
 VOL. I. p 
 
2IO THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 ' Here she comes to answer for herself.' 
 
 The door was opening as I spoke, and 
 Therese's laughing eyes met mine inquiringly. 
 
 ' Therese, come and take my part. This 
 friend of mine has been doing nothing but 
 scold me.' 
 
 ' Been scolding you, has he ? Well, I have 
 no doubt you deserve it. But if scolding 
 won't do, we must try punishment. He has 
 been getting excited, is it not so, monsieur ? 
 Therefore you will have the kindness to wish 
 him good-bye.' 
 
 ' Excited ? My blood is flowing as icily 
 as your own, mademoiselle. When you hear 
 w^hat he has been saying, you will want to 
 punish him instead of me.' 
 
 Moppert made a horrified gesture at my 
 temerity. But I thought I knew what I was 
 doing. 
 
 * What do you think he's afraid of ? ' I 
 said, laughing. 
 
TH^RkSE 211 
 
 ' Of your taking cold and of my being 
 angry,' she answered, peremptorily replacing 
 my head upon the pillow from which I had 
 raised it. ' Who gave you leave to sit up, 
 monsieur ? ' 
 
 ' Leave ? Can't I please myself ? ' 
 
 ' Certainly not,' answered Therese, laying 
 one cool hand upon my brow, and feeling my 
 pulse with the other. 
 
 It was delightful. I hardly like to say 
 how delightful, it seems so inconsistent. 
 
 ' Am I not my own master ? ' I continued, 
 pretending to rebel in order to prolong the 
 punishment. 
 
 She did not deign to answer, only ran 
 her slender fingers through my hair, and 
 stooped low to listen to my breathing. Her 
 pretty mouth, temptingly rounded, almost 
 touched mine. 
 
 Yet I felt sure, quite, quite sure, that her 
 love for me was entn-ely motherly. 
 
 r 2 
 
212 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 ' Perhaps he was afraid of that,' repeated 
 Therese, ' and with excellent reason too, for 
 you are feverish and I am angry.' 
 
 ' No, mademoiselle, it wasn't that at all,' 
 I went on, laughing ; ' he was afraid of your 
 falling in love with me ; but now that he sees 
 how you behave to me, I think his fears will 
 vanish.' 
 
 For a moment after I had made this fool- 
 ish, foolish speech, there was a dead silence. 
 Angry colour flushed Therese's cheek a deep 
 crimson, her restless hands half clenched 
 themselves, and her dark eyes flashed. Then 
 she turned and walked to the door between 
 us and the Schenkstuhe^ standing there a moment 
 before turning^ back to us. 
 
 The colour had faded from her cheek again, 
 leaving it paler than usual, and her mouth, in 
 the corners of which a smile always seemed 
 to lurk, was sternly set — sternly and yet so 
 
TH^RkSE 
 
 213 
 
 sorrowfully tliat I wished I had bitten off my 
 tongue before letting it wag so foolishly. 
 
 She seated herself on a chair by my bed- 
 side, first chastising me with a look which 
 made me tingle from head to foot with shame, 
 then turned her beautiful eyes, dark, clear, and 
 iinwontedly earnest, on Moppert, to Avhom she 
 spoke. He had been looking at her with un- 
 disguised admiration, at me with undisguised 
 reproof. 
 
 ' Monsieur,' she began, somewhat irrele- 
 vantly as I thought, ' you liave been now nearly 
 a fortnight in Brunnen, and have, no doubt, 
 often heard people speak of Therese, the 
 Schenkmddchen ? ' 
 
 ' Mademoiselle, I have heard you spoken 
 of more than anyone else in Brunnen.' 
 
 ' Monsieur, your hair is grey — an old man 
 surely would not deceive a girl who trusted 
 in him — and your eyes are grave and clear 
 
214 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 and steady. I believe in eyes. I believe that 
 I may trust you.' 
 
 ' Mademoiselle, if my eyes are a true index 
 to my heart, you may trust them implicitly, 
 for that would scorn to deceive you.' 
 
 ' Tell me then, tell me truly, what you have 
 heard about Therese.' 
 
 ' Mademoiselle, I have heard much that 
 is good. I have heard that you are very 
 beautiful, and I see that it is true — the most 
 beautiful girl in all the four cantons' 
 
 Was she beautiful ? I had hardly thought 
 about it before. I only knew that slie was 
 pleasant. But now, looking at her with newly 
 awakened eyes, I saw that it was true. Not 
 only the most beautiful girl in the four 
 cantons, but also, save one, the most beautiful 
 woman in the world. Well for me that I had 
 been in love before I saw her. For even to 
 my chastened pride the thought of marrying 
 a Schenhncidchen was preposterous. 
 
THERkSE 215 
 
 Yet how gracefully, and now how 
 haughtily, her small head sat upon her 
 shapely neck ! How smooth and dimpled were 
 her shoulders ! How white the full plumpness 
 of her arms ! How exquisitely curled the 
 scarlet lips, scornful as those of any titled 
 dame ! Where, in the name of all the blue 
 blood in the universe, did the ex- footman's 
 daughter learn to look like that ? 
 
 ' Go on, monsieur. Do they say that I am 
 
 sweet-tempered ? Do they say ' Here she 
 
 broke down with a smothered cry of angry 
 and indignant pain. 
 
 ' No, mademoiselle, but they say that 
 your voice is sweeter than that of the far- 
 famed Loreley, and that you lure men to 
 destruction.' 
 
 ' What more ? ' 
 • ' Let me stop, mademoiselle. It is not true, 
 I am sure.' 
 
 ' Monsieur, you have promised me.' 
 
2i6 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 ' That then you change your note and 
 laugh at the hearts you have broken/ 
 
 ' They say that, do they ? Go on.' 
 
 ' Mademoiselle, let me stop, I beseech you. 
 Your bodice is rising and falling stormily ; on 
 your cheek one spot begins to glow like a coal 
 of fire ; your smooth forehead is contracting ; 
 your slipper restless.' 
 
 ' Monsieur, I am not going to fly into a 
 passion. I can control myself, and I will.' 
 
 ' Mademoiselle, if you command me to 
 proceed I have no choice but to obey. They 
 
 say further Mademoiselle, let it be 
 
 enough ; what does it matter ? ' 
 
 ' I iDill hear it.' 
 
 ' Mademoiselle, you are cruel to me as well 
 as to yourself. You do not know what you 
 are asking.' 
 
 ' But I will hear it.' 
 
 ' They say that you are only nursing the 
 Englishman to break his heart too ; that there 
 
TH^RkSE 217 
 
 is witchery in your charms, and that no man 
 can withstand you. They say that you have 
 no heart to love anyone, and that he had 
 better have been drowned in the lake than 
 ever come near you. They have sent me to 
 take him away.' 
 
 The long kept back tears were coming at 
 last. I saw them falling one by one. I saw 
 the girl's struggle to keep back the sobs 
 shaking her. And I had to remember that 
 this was all my doing. 
 
 ' So you have come to take him away,' 
 she said at last, with as much bitterness as 
 she could infuse into the sweet tones of her 
 voice. 
 
 ' I won't be taken away, Therese — not if he 
 brings everyone in Brunnen to help him.' 
 
 She smiled at me through her tears, even 
 in tlie midst of her agitation carefully put- 
 ting back the hand I stretched out under 
 the coverlet again. 
 
2i8 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 ' Oh, monsieur, monsieur,' she cried, laugh- 
 incr, now almost her old bri^^ht self once 
 more, ' you come too late. The mischief is 
 done already. He will not go, even though I 
 bid him.' 
 
 ' I shall never get well without the tonic 
 of your tyranny,' I cried. 
 
 ' You hear, monsieur. Is it not dreadful ? 
 Don't you wish he had been left at the 
 bottom of the lake ? ' 
 
 ' No, mademoiselle.' 
 
 ' Don't you wish he had never seen 
 Therese ? ' 
 
 'No, mademoiselle; I esteem him fortu- 
 nate, and myself too, for having had that 
 pleasure.' 
 
 ' Ah, perhaps you are falling a victim 
 yourself I ' 
 
 ' Yes, mademoiselle, I have been falling a 
 victim ever since I saw you.' 
 
 ' You frighten me, monsieur. I did not 
 
THERkSB 219 
 
 know I was so dangerous, nor that I could 
 break hearts so easily.' 
 
 ' Mademoiselle, necks have been broken in 
 scaling your mountains, but that is not the 
 fault of the glacier.' 
 
 ' Bah ! Would you compare me to any- 
 thing so icy as that ? You think then, like 
 my kind neighbours, that I have no heart 
 at all/ 
 
 ' 1 think, mademoiselle, that a heart 
 capable of profoundest affection beats be- 
 neath your Mieder — a heart that loving once 
 would love for ever, but that as yet it is 
 untouched.* 
 
 As she put her hands upon his shoulders 
 in the pretty way in which she was wont 
 to plead with her father, I saw her face 
 change its expression from that of a playful 
 child to that of an impassioned woman. Her 
 pale cheek glowed again, her lips parted, her 
 voice was ajxitated, as if an unskilful hand 
 
220 THROUGHILOVE TO LIFE 
 
 had touched some exquisite instrument which 
 could not yet yield full harmony. 
 
 ' Will it ever be touched ? ' she said, her 
 voice vibrating, while she looked up into the 
 old man's face as if he had been a prophet ; 
 ' will it ever be touched, monsieur ? ' 
 
 But before he could answer she was 
 laughing again gaily, promising me no end of 
 penalties for having been the cause of so 
 much disquietude, and laughed still as she 
 playfully pushed Moppert out of my room 
 into the glowing sunshine of the mid-day. 
 
221 
 
 CHAPTEE XVI. 
 
 A SOLEMN VOW. 
 
 * O mon pere/ lui dis-je, ' je ne savais pas que la direction 
 d'intention eut la force de rendre les promesaes utiles.' ' Vous 
 voyez,' dit le p^re, ' que Toila une grande facility pour le com- 
 merce du monde.' — Pascal {Lettres Provinciales). 
 
 My progress towards complete recovery was 
 very rapid after my interview with Moppert, 
 Soon I was allowed to sit up ; soon even able 
 to take a few steps out into the sweet autumn 
 air ; very soon able to coerce Therese, as I 
 triumphantly asserted, instead of her coercincr 
 me. 
 
 But before this happy termination to our 
 disaster had been attained, nearly a month 
 had elapsed, during which our worst fears for 
 the beautiful lady might have been realised. 
 
222 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 And though I could not deny even to myself 
 that her image in my mind had become some- 
 what misty, I struggled against the conviction 
 v^ith fierce contempt for my instability. Was 
 it not to her that I owed the rousing of soul 
 and body out of a lethargy which was ruining 
 me ? I hated myself for my enforced inaction, 
 and every minute of delay seemed an age. 
 
 In the meantime Moppert had not been 
 idle. He had been to Lucerne before he saw 
 me, and ascertained that the apartments occu- 
 pied by Monsieur le Prince de Pobeldowski 
 and his suite had been taken until the end of 
 October, and that therefore we still had some 
 time before us. 
 
 His inquiries concerning the lady herself 
 had not produced any definite information. 
 The bribed waiter, probably already bribed 
 by some one else, was quite non-committal. 
 He did not know where Mademoiselle came 
 from ; she spoke several languages equally 
 
A SOLEMN VOW 223 
 
 well. lie did not know whether the Princess 
 was kind to her — the Prince was, and tlie 
 Prince was master. lie did not know whether 
 she had any friends or not— never heard of 
 any. He did not know whether she were 
 happy — she cried a good bit, which was a 
 queer way of showing it ; but then women 
 were queer — could narrate a case in point 
 from his own experience. 
 
 Furthermore the waiter, pulled up rather 
 short at this point ; did not know — very 
 sulkily — anything more about her — had too 
 much to do to busy himself with what others 
 were doing. Besides, as a respectable young 
 man engaged to a respectable young woman, 
 she wasn't the sort of person he cared to talk 
 about. 
 
 And this was all Moppert's five francs had 
 elicited. 
 
 ' I wish I had been there to knock him 
 down,' I cried indignantly. 
 
224 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 ' But as you were not,' said Moppert 
 rather drily, ' what is to be done next ? ' 
 
 My own feelings would have prompted me 
 to say, Eaise the devil generally, but Moppert 
 was still looking at me with his own dry 
 caustic smile, and I was silent. 
 
 ' I'll tell you what, mon ami^ he said, after 
 a thoughtful tug at his moustache, ' when I 
 w^as quite nonplussed at Lucerne I used to 
 go to Madame Papillote, and she always knew 
 what to do. Women beat us out and out at 
 intricfue. Let us take a woman into our 
 confidence.' 
 
 ' What woman?' 
 
 ' Who better than Mademoiselle Therese ? ' 
 
 I blushed a little. Was he thinking to 
 kill two birds with one stone ? But he was 
 right ; if anyone could help us it was she. 
 
 Therese listened as Moppert narrated, 
 with grave attention, her eyes downcast, even 
 her busy fingers perfectly motionless. I think 
 
A SOLEMN VOW 225 
 
 he was somewhat reassured by her apathy, by 
 her evident want of surprise. 
 
 * You did well,' she said at last, slowly, yet 
 very composedly, ' you did well, monsieur, 
 to come to Therese. People say that what I 
 undertake 1 succeed in, and I am going to 
 undertake to help you.' 
 
 ' Therese,' I cried, enraptured, 'was there 
 ever such a charming girl as you are ? How 
 shall I thank you ? ' 
 
 I stretched out my hand to grasp hers, but 
 she did not seem to see it. I tried to catch 
 her eye, but she appeared to have only vision 
 for Moppert. 
 
 ' Therese, tell me what you want most in 
 the world; and I w^ill give it you, even if it 
 cost me half what I possess.' 
 
 With one of those sudden changes so 
 characteristic of her, she now turned sharply 
 towards me ; her face, nay, even her white 
 shoulders and pearly ears, dyed a deep crimson. 
 
 VOL. I. Q 
 
226 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 Her girlish figure shook with the violent effort 
 she made to regain her lost self-control. It 
 seemed as if the effort would choke her. 
 
 ' What is the matter, Therese ? What have 
 I done to vex j^ou ? ' 
 
 She burst into a peal of laughter — laughter 
 so discordant that it horrified me — and ran, 
 still laughing, out of the room. 
 
 I looked at Moppert for an explanation ; 
 but he only said sharply and laconically, as 
 the door closed upon us : 
 
 ' How soon will you be able to go ? ' 
 
 Adding, after a short interval, during 
 which he fiercely tugged at his moustache : 
 
 ' If ever you kiss that girl again I'll give 
 up the enterprise.' 
 
 Could he have imagined ? 
 
 And I made a vow — a solemn one — never 
 to kiss Therese again on any provocation what- 
 soever, and kept it — of course. 
 
227 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 IN THE SCHENKSTUBE. 
 
 ' And now, good day ; I wish you pleasant dreams, 
 And greater faith in woman.' 
 
 * Greater faith ! I have the greatest faith ; 
 For I believe Victorian is her lover.' — Loi^gpellow. 
 
 In a few moments after that last angry remark 
 from Moppert, William entered the room, 
 bringing with him a stout Brunnen lad, who 
 greeted me with a grin from ear to ear, and a 
 gruff ' Griiss Gott, Herre.' 
 
 ' Grltss Gott,' I answered, recfardingf with in- 
 terest this burly son of the soil. His figure was 
 almost gigantic, and even his loose and ill-made 
 clothes could not quite disguise limbs shaped 
 like those of a young Hercules. His coarse linen 
 shirt, bleached white as the snow upon his own 
 
 42 
 
228 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 mountains, hung loose over his chest, leaving 
 his massive throat and hairy breast visible. 
 His hands and feet were immense. He was a far 
 finer specimen of the human animal than an 
 average English peasant, and, so far as I have 
 had an opportunity of judging, no exception, 
 but a type of his class in German Switzerland. 
 
 But, ascending from the throat to the head, 
 where that intangible something. Human Intel- 
 ligence, is supposed to have its seat, one would 
 have given, without hesitation, the palm to the 
 average Anglo-Saxon. The pale goggle blue 
 eyes of the giant, innocent and pacific looking, 
 seemed but a degree removed from those of a 
 peaceful grazing ox, whose knowledge of the 
 Avorld's laws goes no higher than that ploughing 
 comes before grazing, labour before repose. 
 
 Yet once I saw those dull orbs, on a never- 
 to-be-forgotten occasion, all ablaze in the 
 light of a divine fire, lit by God. 
 
 Globularity was the prevaihng impression 
 
IN THE SCHENKSTUBE 229 
 
 whidi tliis gigantic Teuton made upon me. 
 His face was round, his flat nose round, his 
 mildly astonished eyes round. And as for his 
 temper, as I found out afterwards, there 
 wasn't an angle in it. 
 
 According to the law of contrariety which 
 governs human actions, some one had bestowed 
 the rather ferocious name of Nicholas upon 
 this peaceful giant. He was known to 
 his compatriots as Peter's Nick — Peter 
 being his paternal ancestor. And although so 
 young, he had already a Nick of his own, 
 who is doubtless now known by the cogno- 
 men of Old Nick's Nick. 
 
 ' Well, sir, how do you find yourself this 
 evening?' said William kindly. 'Me and Nick's 
 been sent to carry you into the Schenkstuhe. 
 There's goin' to be some fun to-night. And 
 she - bade us look sharp about it, did the 
 Mddel, and if we don't she will. What did 
 the Mddel say. Nick ? ' 
 
230 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 ' To bring him whether he would or no/ 
 answered Nick, nothing now but a stalwart 
 figure, capped by a mouth. 
 
 ' And we are going to do it, Nick ? ' 
 
 ' J(9, jo^ Herve! 
 
 If Therese had told Nick to throw me 
 into the lake, he would have done it, I am 
 sure. 
 
 The next moment I was in the air, easy 
 chair and all, raised there by the sinewy 
 arms of Nicholas, and a moment later I was 
 in the Schenkstuhe. 
 
 Moppert, laughing heartily, followed me 
 and my bearer. 
 
 We were greeted by a simultaneous : Griiss 
 Gott! from about twenty to thirty men, from 
 the bald-headed patriarch of the village to 
 the lad, barely emancipated from the dis- 
 cipline of the maternal Ruthe. 
 
 There were three windows in the room — 
 lattice-windows, with diamond-shaped panes. 
 
IN THE SCHENKSrUBE 231 
 
 One of these was open, and through it I 
 looked down upon the shimmering lake, now 
 dyed deep crimson by the glory of the 
 sunset. 
 
 Opposite me rose the mountains, and I 
 thought, as I gazed, that heaven itself could 
 not be more divinely beautiful. No addition 
 could improve the scene, and an item wanting 
 would have been — at least to me — as dis- 
 turbing as a feature failing on a lovely human 
 face. 
 
 Feeling a trifle embarrassed by the uni- 
 versal gaze — for I was an object of great 
 interest to the ' lads ' — I occupied myself for 
 a while solely with the beauty of the land- 
 scape, brightened into special glory by the 
 brilliancy of the setting sun, which was 
 framing the tops of tlie mountains opposite 
 with a deep border of living and transparent 
 gold. 
 
 The two arms of the lake, one stretching 
 
232 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 towards Lucerne, the other towards Fluelen 
 — the so-called Lake of Uri — lay as calm and 
 unruffled before me as if they had never 
 known what it was to be lashed by the Eohn. 
 The water was of a vivid green, dark under 
 the shadow of the mountains ; and the air so 
 clear that I could see the crevices on the 
 glacier of Uri Eothstock, and even the point 
 where ice melted into water. A few boats 
 were crossing from the other side, wherein 
 sat youths and maidens, the former wearing 
 sprigs of edelweiss in their round hats, the 
 latter gaily attired in the blue and scarlet 
 Mieder of the national costume. 
 
 As I gazed, the sun sank lower, embracing 
 the mountains with ever-increasing ardour as 
 the moment drew near when he must go. 
 I saw the snow-tops crimson under his kisses 
 until they glowed like peaks of living fire. 
 
 ' Is it not glorious, monsieur ? ' said 
 Therese, in a low voice at my ear. ' Don't you 
 
IN THE SCHENKSrUBE 233 
 
 think God must have a special love for 
 Switzerland ? ' 
 
 I looked round with a sigh. Even her 
 sweet voice broke the spell. 
 
 ' Monsieur, though I have seen it so often, 
 I always feel it just as new and wonderful. I 
 could fancy I saw the gates of heaven open- 
 ing, and that in another moment we should 
 look straight in on God.' 
 
 The light was slowly fading now, and 
 Therese stood quietly beside me until the 
 mountains had recovered their usual proud 
 purity — all the colder, it seemed, after their 
 late outbreak of passion — and in the darken- 
 ing sky stars began to twinkle. Then she 
 closed the window ; ordering me, with that 
 quick change of feeling so characteristic of 
 her, not to sit apart, sullen and morose, any 
 longer, but to pay a little attention to my 
 neighbours. 
 
 In obedience to my little dictatress, I 
 
234 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 commenced conversation with a stout 
 ' Junge ' of fifty or thereabouts — who, I 
 found, was regarding me with considerable 
 curiosity — by remarking that it was a 
 beautiful evening. 
 
 ' If anyone had told me,' he rejoined, 
 much more to the point, ' a fortnight ago, 
 Herre, that I should ever drink a pot in your 
 company, I'd have punched him for trying 
 to make a fool of me — Michael Michaelis.' 
 
 ' You thought I was lost ? ' 
 
 ' Herre, when I saw you with these eyes — 
 the eyes of Michael Michaelis — in your nut- 
 shell of a boat upon the lake and the Fohn 
 signalled, if I'd thought about it at all — 
 which I didn't — I micrht have thoufjht the 
 lake would throw up your body to be buried 
 decently in Brunnen churchyard, but not 
 that I should ever drink a pot in your 
 company/ 
 
 While we talked, I watched the men 
 
IN THE SCHENKSTUBE 235 
 
 quaffing their beer, and watched Therese as 
 she flitted hither and thither, waitini^ on 
 them ; her cheeks more warmly coloured 
 than usual ; her eyes sometimes smiling 
 approbation, sometimes flashing reproof ; her 
 abundant black hair braided into one long 
 plait, falling far below her waist ; her trimly 
 fitting scarlet bodice showing to perfection 
 the beauty of her figure ; her short full 
 skirt allowin^]^ all admirincr gazers to see the 
 neat ankle and the pretty arched foot. 
 
 And as I gazed, filled with that restless 
 discontent, which attends the second stage of 
 convalescence — when we bef?in to feel our 
 weakness — I grew indignant and wrathful. 
 
 At the other end of the room, opposite 
 the windows, was a sort of bar, behind which 
 stood Fleurette and Peter's Nick. It was 
 there that Therese and William took the 
 empty pots' to be refilled, and this business 
 was carried on so rapidly for a time that 
 
236 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 Therese's pretty feet hardly seemed to touch 
 the floor as she ran from one to another. 
 
 ' Zwei Hamburger, Fleurette.' 
 
 ' Ein Niirnberger Schnitt for Michael 
 Michaehs.' 
 
 ' Thereschen, Herze, Have you got any 
 double Bavarian ? ' 
 
 ' Not for you, Peter Kunze/ 
 
 ' And why not for me, Mddel, if I've got 
 the money to pay for it ? ' 
 
 Therese only looked at him. Everyone 
 else stopped drinking and looked too. 
 
 Peter shuflled uneasily upon his seat, mut- 
 tering that he was Herr in his own house, and 
 wasn't going to have the law laid down to him 
 bv other folks' Mddel. But Therese stood 
 steady, and I saw Peter's Nick roll his shirt- 
 sleeves a trifle higher and stand at attention. 
 
 ' And there's more than one Schenke and 
 more than one pretty girl in Brunnen,' he 
 added. 
 
IN THE SCHENKSTUBE 237 
 
 Therese never moved, but Peter's Nick 
 gave his shirt-sleeve another roll, and drew a 
 step nearer. 
 
 ' Schdme dick, Peter Kanze ! ' 
 
 The words were scarcely audible, and yet 
 it seemed as if the breath to utter them had 
 gone forth from every mouth present. Peter 
 dashed down his pot and went away in a rage. 
 
 ' Why wouldn't she give it him ? ' I said. 
 
 ' Double Bavarian costs double price,' an- 
 swered Michael Michaelis laconically, ' and 
 Peter's got a sick wife.' 
 
 ' He will go elsewhere.' 
 
 ' Ja wohl, he will go elsewhere.' 
 
 ' And can the host afford to lose his cus- 
 tomers like that ? ' 
 
 Michael looked at me with mild surprise 
 in his mild eyes. 
 
 . ' He will come back to-morrow, Herre. 
 It doesn't answer here in Brunnen to quarrel 
 with Therese.' 
 
238 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 ' Why not ? ' 
 
 'Ah, why not, Herre? It would take 
 more than is m me to answer that. She isn't 
 like any other Mddel^ isn't Therese.' 
 
 I began to grow still more restless and dis- 
 contented. It angered me to see those dimpled 
 shoulders so close to the rough coats of the 
 lads, to notice how smilingly she heard the 
 endearing epithets by which she was continu- 
 ally addressed. It infuriated me to see her 
 exposed to the gaze of so many masculine 
 eyes, and to feel that her grace and loveliness 
 were made use of for a marketable purpose. 
 Could any girl, specially could Therese, w^th 
 that inflammable French blood coursinsr 
 through her delicate veins, remain unsullied 
 in such an atmosphere ? But the worst was 
 to come. 
 
 There were three tables in the room. Two 
 were crowded by aborigines, one was occupied 
 — sparsely now, for the season was drawing 
 
IN THE SCHENKSTUBE 239 
 
 to its close — by strangers. There were two 
 Italians, two Frenchmen, two or three Ger- 
 mans. All were talking rapidly ; the French- 
 men in a low aside. 
 
 Riding rampant upon that gaunt hobby 
 horse of Old England — Strict Propriety — I 
 angrily pushed back my chair, inwardly re- 
 solving to take the first opportunity to remon- 
 strate with William as to the hfe his daughter 
 was leading. Some vague notion of a re- 
 spectable English boarding-school where I 
 could pay a deep debt of gratitude, and cause 
 a hedgeside rose to be trained into a fit stan- 
 dard for an English parterre, rose into my 
 mind, when certain words falling on my ear 
 sent me headlong from Strict Propriety into 
 the slough of unmistakable Bohemianism. 
 
 ' I have never before seen a girl half so 
 beautiful ! ' 
 
 The speaker was one of the Frenchmen, 
 a handsome young fellow of four or five 
 
240 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 and twenty, with a refined face, yet sensual 
 eye ; and that eye, beaming with no ray of 
 purity, was fixed upon the sweUing Mieder of 
 Therese. 
 
 ' And what a figure, sacrement ! Clemence 
 would want to kill her.' 
 
 ' TaiseZ'iwus, Brissot ; one is hstening.' 
 
 ' Bah ! only an Anglais ; that makes no- 
 thing.' 
 
 Whatever it ' made ' I meant to hear the 
 rest of the conversation if I could. With my 
 eye negligently turned towards the table, 
 round which the aborigines, their thirst some- 
 what allayed, were beginning to talk noisily, 
 I hstened intently. 
 
 ' Yesterday I wrote to Clemence that I 
 was coming, but to-day I think I will dis- 
 appoint her.' 
 
 ' Ah, I have not known you since we were 
 students together at the Lycee without find- 
 ing out your weak point, Brissot. Be satisfied 
 
IN THE SCHENKSTUBE 341 
 
 with Clemence ; she is beautiful enough, is 
 
 ' she not ? ' 
 
 ' I thought so yesterday, but to-day her 
 
 image on my retina looks faded and insipid.' 
 ' Faithless gallant ! but have a care ! One 
 
 has told me that this girl is as virtuous as she 
 
 is beautiful.' 
 
 ' They told me that of Clemence.' 
 
 ' That means you don't beUeve it.' 
 
 ' That means, mon ami, exactly what you 
 
 please to interpret it.' 
 
 ' Brissot, I am not going to help you.' 
 'Mon cher, I shall do very well without 
 
 your assistance.' 
 
 If there had been any blood in my body 
 
 to boil, it would have boiled now, I am sure. 
 
 Full of wrath, I watched Therese and the dark 
 
 eye following her. Full of wrath, I vowed to 
 
 do rny utmost to take her away from such 
 
 a life. 
 
 In the meantime the aborigines began to 
 
 VOL. I. R 
 
242 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 rise from their seats, and I concluded that 
 the evening was over. But no ; Peter's Xick 
 and WiUiam, assisted by a few volunteers, 
 were clearing the room for a dance. And 
 the door opening, in came, blushing and 
 giggling, a number of blooming daughters of 
 the soil, evidently delighted at the noble 
 display of partners awaiting them. The 
 strangers rose too, smiling, quite willing to 
 join in the amusement. 
 
 Someone — I think it was Peter's Nick — 
 lifted me into a corner, where I could look 
 on, the only spectator. 
 
243 
 
 CHAPTER XYIII. 
 
 A BLOW FOR A KISS. 
 
 Saw a boy a rosebud sweet, 
 Rosebud in the thicket, 
 And a green stem was its seat ; 
 Quick he ran with eager feet, 
 All in haste to pick it. 
 Rosebud, rosebud, rosebud red, 
 Rosebud in the thicket. 
 
 Broke the stem whereon it grew, 
 Pulled it from the thicket ; 
 Rosebud said, The deed shalt rue, 
 IVe a thorn that's keen and true, 
 Through thy hand 111 prick it. 
 Rosebud, rosebud, rosebud red, 
 Rosebud in the thicket. 
 
 Translated from Goethe (Lieder). 
 
 ' Monsieur did not know it was my Namens- 
 tagf It was Therese's sweet voice which just 
 murmured these words at my ear. 
 ' No I did not know it.' 
 
 B 2 
 
244 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 ' Monsieur looks grave and tired. If I 
 did not just now feel too good-humoured to 
 say anything unkind, I would say, cross. 
 But perhaps monsieur is thinking of the 
 beautiful lady ? ' 
 
 ' No, Therese ; I was thinking of you.' 
 
 ' Oh, I don't feel honoured. For mon- 
 sieur's brow is clouded, his eye angry, his lip 
 morose. And not a word of concrratulation 
 for my Namenstag ! ' 
 
 ' You expect me to congratulate you for 
 having grown — how old is it ? — among these 
 men. Just now I feel more inchned to warn 
 you — to tell you ' 
 
 * Warn me — tell me — what do you mean, 
 monsieur ? If I had not nerves of iron I 
 might be frightened to death. But out with 
 your warnings ; they won't improve with keep - 
 ing, any more than beer does when the bottle 
 is opened.' 
 
 ' Well, are you going to dance ? ' 
 
A BLOW FOR A KJSS 245 
 
 ' To dance, I ? Ask the sun if it is going 
 to shine, or the water to ripple, or the bird to 
 sing. Eeally, monsieur, you are preposterous. 
 You'd better go back to bed again.' 
 
 ' I can't prevent you, of course. I have 
 no authority over you. If I had,' I added 
 savagely, ' I would not let a single man here 
 put his arm round your waist, I would not 
 let a soul in the room call you by those 
 caressing names. But — you seem to like it.' 
 
 ' Monsieur, you are detestable, you are 
 odious, you are wicked. As if the poor lads 
 meant any harm ! It is you who are full of 
 bad thoughts, or you would not imagine evil 
 where there is none.' 
 
 We were both now in a hvcj. Therese's 
 pale cheek was crimson, her eyes full of in- 
 dignant tears, her lip bleeding from the cruel 
 curb- of the pitiless white teeth. 
 
 ' If you were able to dance, monsieur 
 — which you are not. Englishmen can do 
 
246 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 nothing — I would not dance with you. I 
 detest you, monsieur. You have hurt me 
 more than I can bear with your vile innu- 
 endoes. I will never forgive you, and never 
 speak to you again.' 
 
 ' All that, mademoiselle, which only proves 
 what a temper you have — a temper requiring 
 the severest discipline — will not prevent my 
 doing my utmost to prevail with your father 
 to put a stop to this. You have saved my 
 life. I am not going to forget what I owe 
 you.' 
 
 ' I throw your gratitude back in your 
 teeth, monsieur,' cried Therese, her tears 
 dried up in the fire of her wrath, and for- 
 getting with true woman's inconsistency her 
 vow of never speaking to me again. ' You 
 shall not make a strait-laced English miss 
 of me. I'll die fir^. Let me go, monsieur. 
 How dare you touch me ? Are you any better 
 than another ? * 
 
A BLOW FOR A KISS 247 
 
 We had quite forgotten caution, both of 
 us, but fortunately our raised voices were 
 drowned in the noise of the arrangements for 
 the dance, and in the welcome given to the 
 new-comers. Now the ladies were being re- 
 galed with some hot beverage, which diffused 
 a fragrant odour, and the young men were 
 selecting their partners. There was a uni- 
 versal call for Therese. I saw the Frenchman 
 advancing, and I spoke hurriedly : 
 
 ' Hate me as much as you will, Therese, 
 but don't dance with that man.' 
 
 ' What man, monsieur ? ' 
 
 ' That Frenchman coming towards you.* 
 
 ' That handsome man ! And why not, 
 pray ? ' 
 
 ' Because I have the strons^est reason for 
 wishing that you should not.' 
 
 .Her red lip curled scornfully as she 
 answered : 
 
 'And that is just why I shall do it. 
 
248 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 Besides, he is a Frenchman. Frenchmen 
 know how to dance ; tliey are not stupid.' 
 
 ' I will call your father.' 
 
 ' He has been sent for to the village, 
 monsieur ; I saw him leave the room a 
 moment ago. And T shall do as I like.' 
 
 The young Frenchman advanced with a 
 low bow, soliciting the honour of her hand for 
 the dance. And with a mocking curtsey to 
 me, she put her hand upon his arm, and was 
 led to her place among the dancers. 
 
 The music struck up. Two or three 
 fiddlers had found accommodation behind 
 the bar for that purpose. Even Fleurette 
 was being escorted by Peter's Nick to the 
 bottom of the row, and one or two of the 
 men who had not been fortunate enough to 
 secure lady partners jocosely led out sub- 
 stitutes of their own sex. In a few seconds 
 the room was in a whirl ; quicker and quicker 
 moved the dancers, until girlish cheeks glowed 
 
A BLOW FOR A KISS 249 
 
 in emulation of the scarlet bodices, and bodices 
 themselves rose and fell more rapidly to the 
 time of tlie quickened lieart-beat. Moppert, 
 too, had caught the infection, and was whirl- 
 ing a very stout Dirne^ whose waist the little 
 man could only half encircle, round with the 
 others. 
 
 I will not enter into further details of the 
 dance. I only watched Therese, transferred 
 from one pair of masculine arms to another. 
 My anger waning, left me sick and faint. I 
 was just making a sign to Peter's Nick to take 
 me back into my room when a catastrophe 
 occurred. 
 
 I know now from her own innocent con- 
 fession that Therese's fury at my reproof arose 
 in great measure from her own inward con- 
 viction that I was not wholly wrong. The 
 terms of endearment, suitable enough for her 
 childhood, were beginning to arouse in her 
 womanhood a frequent feehng of shame. My 
 
2 so THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 cruel probing instrument had sounded the 
 new wound to the bullet rankling there, and 
 the first rebound at the smart carried her 
 beyond consideration for anything but the 
 intolerable pain. 
 
 Of course the Frenchman knew nothing of 
 all this. Her ready and apparently delighted 
 consent to dance with him ; her smiling 
 reception of his, at first cautious, and ever 
 bolder and broader, compliments carried him 
 beyond the bounds of prudence. How could 
 he know that her smiles were all subterfuge, 
 her ear deaf to his voice .^ As, in the whirl of 
 the dance, her sweet flushed face came into 
 close proximity to his, he pressed his lips to it 
 with a sharp sound, distinctly heard above the 
 moving feet and the strains of the music. 
 
 My indignation took away what little 
 strength I had and forced me to keep my in- 
 valid chair, the most helpless creature in the 
 room. I saw the smile, trembling on the lips 
 
A BLOW FOR A KISS 251 
 
 of the maidens, reflected rather ominously in 
 the eyes of their partners. Then everyone 
 stood still, as if the sic^nificant sound had 
 broken the spring which set them in motion. 
 
 For they knew the maiden better than he 
 did — better than I. 
 
 Therese had torn herself away from the 
 arms of her partner, and now stood facing him, 
 her cheek as pale as the whitewashed wall of 
 the Schenkstube. As for him, he stood feign- 
 ing the smile of indifference, though he knew 
 now that he had made a terrible mistake. 
 His friend stood anxiously in the background, 
 looking on eagerly. 
 
 ' Er wird Feigen kriegen, aber keine silssen,' 
 said someone standing near me. 
 
 The pallor on Therese's cheek was giving 
 place to a burning blush, an angry light flashed 
 out .of her dimmed eye, and even her dimpled 
 shoulders were so deeply dyed that the Mieder 
 seemed to pale beside them. Then the fury 
 
252 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 rushed into her hand — that restless hand so 
 quick to respond to any summons from the 
 brain. 
 
 The next moment another sharp sound 
 resounded through the room. There was an 
 involuntary ' Oh ! ' from the Frenchman, and 
 a laugh of approval from every other mouth 
 present. 
 
 With one hand on his swelling cheek, the 
 mortified Frenchman made good his retreat, 
 I looked round for Therese, but she was 
 gone. 
 
 There was no more dancing that evening. 
 Peter's Nick and Fleurette tried to break up ^ 
 the whispering groups, who only separated to 
 depart. 
 
 Then Peter's Nick carried me to bed, and 
 I saw Therese that evening no more. 
 
253 
 
 CHAPTEE XIX. 
 
 UNSOLVED PROBLEMS. 
 
 I cannot tell the reason why 
 
 I like her kisses so, 
 
 Yet never beg one ; she'd reply, 
 
 I sadly fear, with No. 
 
 My lips meet hers as doth the bee 
 
 Sweet honey sip, instinctively. 
 
 Just as the zephyr woos the rose, 
 
 I woo ; no ' Lovest me ? ' 
 
 Falls from my lips, yet her cheek glows 
 
 A full response and free. 
 
 Ah me ! I never saw the dart, 
 
 Tin, subtly aimed, it pierced my heart. 
 
 Adapted from Uhlanb. 
 
 It is undoubtedly true that a good, down- 
 right, hearty quarrel is often more efficacious 
 in cementing friendship into an indissoluble 
 bond than long years of pacific passivity, that 
 the tenderest friendships of our lives are 
 
254 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 watered by abundant tears, and that true 
 love never does run smooth. 
 
 Nevertheless, if quarrelling is essential, it 
 is also very bitter. The storm passes over 
 bowed heads, and the period after the fury of 
 the tempest until the return of the sunshine 
 is one of profound depression. 
 
 I passed a very restless night after my 
 first serious quarrel with Therese, seeing her 
 ever anew in my dreams with angry averted 
 face, and hearing anew the ominous sound 
 ^and the dubious laughs succeeding it. 
 
 At last the morning dawned and the sun 
 streamed in through my window, but it 
 brought no sunshine into my soul. The 
 higher it rose, the lower sank my spirits. 
 For the more I sought to analyse my own 
 motives for my attack on Therese, the more 
 despicable they appeared. I had armed my- 
 self with the sword of jealousy and the shield 
 of uncharitableness to do battle with the 
 
UNSOLVED PROBLEMS 255 
 
 sunbeam for shining alike on all. If Th^rese 
 would but come, that I might show her how 
 ready I was to forgive. 
 
 But she did not come. How could I 
 expect her to come ? There are insults too 
 gross to be forgiven. I had been measuring 
 her by the petty conventional standard, beside 
 which she rose as lofty and spotless as her 
 own Alps. I had cast dirt on the hedgeside 
 rose for rejoicing other eyes as well as my 
 own, though I knew well, even when my 
 anger, the baleful blaze of jealousy, was at, 
 its hottest, that no fair English girl, however 
 guarded, was surrounded by thorns more 
 keen and sharp for the punishment of those 
 who would touch as well as admire than this 
 sweetest Heideroschen. 
 
 So the refrain of my elegy resolved itself 
 into :. Oh, if Therese would but come, that I 
 might implore her to forgive me ! 
 
 Nevertheless she came not. 
 
256 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 Only Fleurette came to give me my 
 medicine and the coiTee, wliicli this morning 
 tasted bitter as gall ; only William, graver 
 than usual, but stubbornly silent as to the 
 cause of his gravity ; only Moppert, ho\ ering 
 round my easy chair like a parent bird round 
 a threatened nestling ; only evening darkening 
 into night, with a restless wind sobbing outside 
 my window, like a lost spirit, seeking rest and 
 finding none. 
 
 Strive to retain Hope when she would fly 
 from you ; compel the fickle goddess to yield 
 to your desire ; try abduction, if prayers are 
 unavaihng ; clasp her to your bosom until her 
 struggles cease and she remains motionless — 
 the corpse of a dead Hope, more terrible than 
 aught else on earth ! Eather turn your face 
 to the wall and read there the dread message 
 of Despair, which has at least the merit of 
 consistency : 'Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin.' 
 Again and again I closed my eyes and 
 
UNSOLVED PROBLEMS 257 
 
 tried to forget the hungry, gnawing pain 
 which supplemented the first sharp agony, 
 striving to accept the grisly, philosophic belief 
 that pain exists only in the imagination. I 
 had no power to wrestle with it. It baffled 
 every effort, and, like an insolent conqueror, 
 put its cruel foot upon my neck. 
 
 ' Monsieur ! ' 
 
 Just a whisper, the faintest whisper pos- 
 sible, yet sliaking every nerve within me like 
 a clap of thunder. I thrust away my dead 
 Hope and hushed my heart's beat to listen. 
 
 ' Monsieur ! ' 
 
 It was Therese's voice, and it was soft and 
 supplicating and ended in a sob. I opened 
 my eyes, and there she stood in real flesh and 
 blood beside me ! The lamp cast its full light 
 upon, her, and I could see how sad she was, 
 her eyes reddened witli much weeping, her 
 sweet, pale face down-turned ; profound de- 
 
 VOL. I. s 
 
258 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 jection in the hang of her heavy head ; 
 profound submission in her attitude, which, 
 as I gazed, sank to the lowest depth of 
 humihation. With a fresh burst of tears 
 she flung herself passionately on her knees 
 by my bedside and hid her streaming eyes in 
 the coverlet. 
 
 A moment before I had cast away my dead 
 Hope, and now behold her again, all the 
 lovelier after her resurrection ! no longer a 
 pampered mistress, but a trembling wife, 
 caressing the hand which had murdered her. 
 A moment before I had cried ' Peccavi ' with 
 the loudest, now I was most unexpectedly 
 raised from the lowly position of a sup- 
 pliant into the lofty one of a magnanimous 
 absolver. 
 
 With a rapid reversion of my mental 
 attitude, I turned a cold shoulder towards 
 lovely Hope — for was she not eclipsed alto- 
 gether by plump and well-favoured Certainty ? 
 
UNSOLVED. PROBLEMS 259 
 
 — and I let Therese sob on ; so sorry, that my 
 heart ached, and yet so glad that I could have 
 burst out mto a peal of triumph. 
 
 But it was not in the girl's nature to do 
 anything for long. After a while she raised 
 her head and fixed her dark eyes, still brim- 
 ful of tears, upon my face. As she opened 
 hers I closed mine and feigned to sleep. 
 
 ' Monsieur is not sleeping, I know. I saw 
 his eyes wide open just now.' 
 
 No answer. 
 
 ' Monsieur, shall I give you your medicine ? ' 
 
 Still silence, 
 
 ^ Monsieur ' — in an agitated and alarmed 
 voice — ' will you not speak to me P ' 
 
 ' Certainly, Therese, / never made a vow 
 not to speak to you again,' 
 
 ' Monsieur, why do you speak so coldly 
 and. cruelly ? I cannot bear it. Why do you 
 ofier me a stone when I ask for bread .^ ' 
 
 ' Therese, yesterday I implored you to take 
 
 s 2 
 
26o THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 the bread I ofTered, and you cast it from you 
 and trampled it under your feet.' 
 
 ' And was I not punished for it, monsieur ? 
 Were you not a witness to my disgrace ? Did 
 I not break my teeth upon the stone I picked 
 up for myself? ' 
 
 ' I certainly hope it proved unpalatable 
 to you.' 
 
 ' Unpalatable ! It sickened me, monsieur. 
 It poisoned me. Yesterday I was honoured 
 even by my enemies ; to-day I am a byword 
 
 in Brunnen. And if you hate me too ' Here 
 
 she broke down into a sob again. (Good 
 heavens ! is it from God or the devil that we 
 get the power to hurt those most whom we 
 love most tenderly ?) 
 
 ' I do not hate you, Therese. I am 
 only sorry for you ; specially sorry that 
 you cannot distinguish friends from ene- 
 mies.' 
 
 ^ And being sorry for me in that tone, 
 
UNSOLVED PROBLEMS 261 
 
 monsieur, is worse than hating me. It shows 
 that you, too, despise me, as I despise my- 
 self.' 
 
 I lay quiet, and Therese, after a few de- 
 spairing sobs, grew quiet too. So quiet, that 
 at last, terrified at the idea that she had gone 
 away, I opened my eyes again. 
 
 But there was no fear of that. She had 
 risen from her knees, but was still standing 
 beside me, her pale cheek wet with despainng 
 tears, her full lips quivering, her pretty little 
 retrousse nose reddened from suppressed emo- 
 tion. My heart began to relent and to swell 
 up into my throat as I looked upon her, and 
 the whip she had given me all but fell from 
 my hand. 
 
 ' Monsieur,' she said again, and her voice 
 was very humble and beseeching, ' do let me 
 give you your medicine. I'm sure you have 
 not taken it.' 
 
 ' And I am sure, Therese, that I have.' 
 
262 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 * Two full tablespoonfuls three times a day 
 without me there to make you ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, Therese, even without the stimulus 
 of your presence I have taken them.' 
 
 ' But your Sujjpe ? I know you have eaten 
 nothing all day. I saw Fleurette bring it out 
 untouched, and if I had not been so — so ' 
 
 ' So perverse and naughty, Therese ? ' I 
 said suggestively, and with difficulty suppress- 
 ing the laugh — a remorseful laugh though — 
 that was rising. 
 
 ' No, monsieur,' she said, colouring 
 angrily, ' I was not going to say that ; I was 
 going to say, " sorry and ashamed," but now 
 that it pleases you to mock, as well as despise, 
 me, I will not give you the satisfaction of 
 
 knowing how very, very mis 1 mean, how 
 
 little I care for your anger or approbation, 
 and if it had not been for my duty as your 
 nurse ' 
 
 ' Ho, ho ! mademoiselle,' I thought, ' you 
 
UNSOLVED PROBLEMS 263 
 
 have not had enough, have you ? Very well, 
 I know your raw spot now, thank heaven ! ' 
 
 After those last angry observations from 
 Therese, another long pause succeeded, so 
 long that as the slow seconds ticked them- 
 selves away it seemed never ending. Finally, 
 however, it was broken by another timid 
 inquiry. 
 
 ' Shall I raise the pillow at j^our he d, 
 monsieur, before I go, and tuck you in ? ' 
 
 ' Thank you, I am quite comfortable.' 
 
 ' Good night, monsieur.' 
 
 * Good night, Therese.' 
 
 This time she made an angry movement 
 towards the door, and my heart stood still 
 with terror. My lips were opening to call 
 her back, in another minute she would have 
 been my absolute mistress ; when, for the 
 second time, with marvellous shortsighted- 
 ness, she put the dropped reins into my 
 hands. 
 
264 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 Turning back, before her fingers bad even 
 touched the door-latch, she sank upon her 
 knees again, and clasping her hands implor- 
 ingly, said, with a fresh burst of tears : ' Mon- 
 sieur, cannot you forgive me ? ' 
 
 'Certainly, Therese, when I am asked.' 
 
 ' But I do ask you, monsieur, I do. You 
 force me to drink the cup of humiliation to 
 the dregs, but even it is sweet compared with 
 the nauseous draught I mixed for myself 
 yesterday. Monsieur, say — I ask it on my 
 knees, as I should ask it of the holy Mother 
 of God — say : " Therese, I am not angry 
 with you any more. I forgive you from the 
 bottom of my heart." ' 
 
 ' Therese, I forgive you.' 
 
 ' " From the bottom of my heart," mon- 
 sieur.' 
 
 'From the bottom of my heart; and 
 more, I ask you just as earnestly, just as 
 humbly, to forgive me.' 
 
UNSOLVED PROBLEMS 265 
 
 * You, monsieur? ' looking up delighted. 
 
 ' Yes, I, Therese. It was right of me to 
 warn you, but it was infamous, inexcusable, 
 atrocious, to do it as I did.' 
 
 ' Go on, monsieur. Now that you are 
 drinking with me I find humiliation tlie 
 sweetest draught imaginable.' 
 
 ' If you were miserable all day and all 
 night, I was ten times more miserable. If 
 you had not come to me, I must have come 
 to you.' 
 
 'What a pity I did not wait, monsieur, 
 though, after all, I think I would rather be at 
 your feet than have you at mine.' 
 
 ' That is because you are the sweetest, 
 most generous girl in the world.' 
 
 ' Take care, monsieur. Do not undo 
 what you have done. I feel really good to- 
 night and couldn't say a cross word to 
 Fleurette or Peter's Nick, whatever happened. 
 I have been as crusty as a bear to them all 
 
266 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 day, but I must make it up somehow. As to 
 my father, poor dear ! he has had a hard 
 time of it, but to-morrow he will not know 
 what has come to Therese, so velvety will 
 be the slipper with which I shall rule him. 
 Don't spoil what has made you a benefactor 
 to the household, monsieur, for it is spoiling 
 which has developed in me "a temper requir- 
 ing the severest discipline." ' 
 
 ' Which is quite true, mademoiselle ; yet 
 you would not be Therese without it. Un- 
 salted meat is tasteless, but there is such a 
 thing as an overdose.' 
 
 ' Ah, I understand monsieur very well. 
 I may be as disagreeable as I please to other 
 people, only not to monsieur. I may scold 
 Fleurette and Peter's Nick till I am hoarse, 
 and monsieur rather relishes it than other- 
 wise ; I have seen him smilini:^ at such times 
 with anything but acrimony. I may scratcli 
 other people's eyes out, only I must be sure 
 
UNSOLVED PROBLEMS 267 
 
 to slieath my claws in velvet when I touch 
 monsieur. I am not blind to monsieur's 
 faults, Gott beioahre ! I have my own scales, 
 wherein I weigh him, and the faults are heavy 
 enough, goodness knows, yet ' 
 
 ' Yet what, Therese ? ' For she stopped 
 suddenly, blushing crimson to her finger-tips ; 
 even her eyes seemed to glow as eyes do 
 when inward emotion is at its strongest. 
 
 * Yet I will not run the risk of quarrelling 
 with you again to-night,' she continued slowly, 
 almost dreamily, as if her thoughts had fled 
 from her words. ' To-night, monsieur ; at 
 least, to-night, we will part friends.' 
 
 But all the animation had died out of 
 her face, and over the dear, tender, womanly 
 eyes, which were fast filling again, fell a 
 dense shadow. I saw her slight frame seized 
 with a sudden shiver, I saw her cheek paling 
 until it was almost of the ghastly hue of 
 death. 
 
268 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 ' Good-night, monsieur,' she said solemnly. 
 * Lehen Sie wo hi.' 
 
 ' Say " Adieu," Therese. I don't like 
 " Lehen Sie wohl ; " it sounds — well, it sounds 
 too much like a final parting, and we shall 
 meet again to-morrow.' 
 
 ' We shall meet again to-morrow,' she re- 
 peated, yet her sweet voice was toneless and 
 constrained. ' I will say " Adieu " if you like 
 it better, monsieur ; and what can be better 
 than to commend you to God ? ' 
 
 *Let us shake hands, Therese.' 
 
 ' Is that shaking hands, monsieur ? ' for I 
 had imperatively drawn her sweet face very 
 close to mine, in spite of her resistance. * Fie, 
 monsieur, how do you dare to kiss, when 
 you find it so wrong of others even to touch 
 me?' 
 
 ' Because we have quarrelled and are 
 making it up, Therese. Now it is your turn.' 
 
 In the midst of the almost fierce negation 
 
UNSOLVED PROBLEMS 269 
 
 to my request which was agitating her lips 
 she suddenly changed her mind, wrenched 
 herself free from my clinging hands, and un- 
 constrained, stooped low over me, leaving a 
 warm kiss, and its twin-sister, a warm tear, 
 upon my cheek. Then she was gone, her 
 parting legacy the indelible impression of her 
 soft lips upon my face, and in my brain many 
 conflicting thoughts and wishes which would 
 not assimilate. 
 
 Among others, whether the exquisite plea- 
 sure which her kiss had given me was not an 
 emotion totally inconsistent with my love for 
 the unknown goddess. 
 
 Whether I could ever say again with a 
 shadow of truth that my heart, beating vio- 
 lently under my hand, had not been agitated 
 by this second embrace. 
 
 Whether I should be able to look Moppert 
 in the face again. 
 
 Whether it would not be desirable to 
 
270 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 begin my crusade to the rescue as speedily as 
 possible, or — abandon it. 
 
 Whether any man before me had ever 
 been in love with two women at the same 
 time, or whether I was a horrible lu8us naturcB 
 among my species. 
 
 Whether, finally, I should sleep for the 
 night, and if so, whether my dreams would 
 be haunted by the imploring face of La Blonde 
 or the tear-stained one of La Brune, 
 
 Whether, post — finally, I wasn't a fickle 
 monster who deserved neither. 
 
271 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 PROSIT ! 
 
 I laugh at every highly learned ox, 
 
 Who puffs himself as model for my mind ; 
 
 I laugh at all the cowards, fools and blind, 
 
 Who threaten me with weapons orthodox. 
 
 For when the seven blessings that were given, 
 
 Are crushed between Fate's cruel hands, and after, 
 
 Thrown down in cold contempt before our feet ; 
 
 And when within us even our heart's beat 
 
 Is hushed — our soul 's with pain and anguish riven, — 
 
 What have we left but wild and cynic laughter ? 
 
 Heine, 
 
 It was with no discomposure that I heard, 
 when I awoke the next morninor after a ni^ht 
 of sound and refreshing sleep, the rain drops 
 pattering thick and heavy against my window- 
 panes. For within my heart all was serenity 
 and sunshine, the remembrance of the pain I 
 
2 72 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 had suffered only served to enhance the pro- 
 found sense of ease and peace which now pos- 
 sessed me, the storm which had threatened to 
 wreck my friendship with Therese was but an 
 animating reminiscence, now that that friend- 
 ship was anchored upon a rock. 
 
 So, as a hand was laid upon the door-latch 
 after the preliminary rap and the customary 
 ' Herein^ I turned my face away, smiling in 
 anticipation of the pleasure awaiting me, yet 
 wilfully postponing it ; partly to gratify the 
 feeling, which, oddly enough, often prompts us 
 to show most indifference where we feel least, 
 partly to make her — the darling ! — as eager as 
 I was. 
 
 But there was no half-imperative, half- 
 beseeching ' Monsieur,' though my ears were 
 wide open to be charmed by it. And the 
 heavy footfall approaching my bed was surely 
 not that of Therese. However wickedly in- 
 clined to tease me the maiden might be, she 
 
PRGSITI 273 
 
 could never have imitated Fleurette to that 
 perfection. But, hoping against hope, I would 
 not look up yet. 
 
 ' Herre ! ' It was Fleurette (oh ! cruel, 
 cruel Therese !) 
 
 'Herre, will you have your cofiee ? It is 
 late.' 
 
 Never had Fleurette's stolid, unimpression- 
 able, sallow, large-featured and high cheek- 
 boned face appeared to me so odious before. 
 First wishing her and the coffee — well, never 
 mind where, I inquired impatiently : 
 
 ' Where is the Fraulein ? ' 
 
 ' Eh ? I am a little deaf in one ear.' 
 
 I shouted my question anew into the hand 
 with which she made a trumpet for the other. 
 
 ' Das Fraulein ? Ah ! der Herr may well 
 ask where she is. But the master may thank 
 himself for it. He wouldn't heed what I told 
 him when she was little, and now she's got the 
 upper hand, got the power without the sense. 
 
 VOL. I. T 
 
274 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 I knew how it would be, years ago, and more's 
 the pity that he didn't heed me.' 
 
 ' Where is she ? ' 
 
 ' Gone down to Brunnen, sir, in the pour- 
 ing rain, to see an old woman there who 
 is ill. That's what she told the master. But 
 if lie chooses to believe it, / don't. Why, 
 Madame Sauerwein was just as ill yesterday, 
 and there was no talk of going to see her 
 then, though the sun shone. It's the rheu- 
 matism, which doesn't come nor go in an 
 liour. When a maiden like Therese is as 
 crazy as that to have her own way, anybody 
 with sense in their heads may know that 
 there's another reason besides the one she 
 gives. Irgend eiii Mannsperson, wahrscheinlich. 
 But it's none of my business.' 
 
 I thought she seemed to make it very 
 
 much her business, though. I had never 
 
 ard her speak with so much animation 
 
 before : her sallow cheek grew warmer in 
 
PROSIT! 27S 
 
 colouring, and her dull, fishy blue eyes 
 brightened to the utmost of their capabilities. 
 
 * Shall I bring you your breakfast, Herre ? ' 
 she inquired again. 
 
 I intimated tliat she might do so, and 
 during^ her short absence tried to sweeten mv 
 bitter disappointment by repeating to myself 
 that Brunnen was close at hand, and that 
 Therese would speedily return. I was be- 
 ginning to find life not only dull, but also in- 
 supportable without the maiden ; to feel her 
 presence as indispensable to my well-being as 
 a due amount of oxygen in the atmosphere. 
 I could not breathe quite freely in her absence ; 
 I was but half alive without her. Only when 
 she was near, smiled or frowned at me, I 
 became my whole self, because she had 
 breathed into me a new breath of life, making 
 me. for the first time all that I could be. Yet, 
 though I was supremely conscious of this, I 
 still imagined that my heart was another's. 
 
 T 2 
 
276 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 When I had finished the breakfast which 
 rieurette brought, I summoned her to come 
 and sit beside me. As Therese was not there 
 to be talked to, I would at least talk about 
 her. 
 
 The w^oman came, the inevitable stocking 
 in her hand. 
 
 ' I suppose you have known Therese,' I 
 began, ' ever since she was a baby ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, Herre. I came to take care of the . 
 house and the Kindli when the Frau died.' 
 
 ' You knew her mother, too, then ? ' 
 
 ' As much as ever I wanted to. She was 
 a giddy thing whom folk thought well off to 
 have caught an honest man. There was talk 
 enough about her at one time. And her 
 daughter is as like her as one poppy's like 
 another in the corn.' 
 
 The stocking progressed rapidly after this 
 little outbreak of spite, whirling round and 
 round in the hands that held it, like a thing in 
 
PROSIT! 277 
 
 agony. The expressionless face was capable 
 of one expression when roused. Something 
 deep hidden in the heart .had risen to the 
 surface and was looking at me out of the 
 eyes of the speaker. ' Go on, Fleurette,' I 
 murmured. ' Save me, if you can.' 
 
 ' But what's the use of talkin^y to the men/ 
 she continued ; ' put a mountain of common 
 sense on one side and a pretty face on tlie 
 other, and which among them turns to the 
 mountain.^ Though it's none of my business.' 
 
 ' You were never married, I suppose ? ' I 
 inquired rather maliciously, attributing this 
 last remark to an injured sense of non- 
 appreciation. 
 
 ' Yes, I was, Herre, and left a widow with 
 three hungry mouths to fill as well as my 
 own. I was but nineteen years oid when the 
 Joachim came a-courting me, putting it into 
 my silly head that I should be better oil' with 
 him for a master than the one I'd got.' 
 
278 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 ' You were not happy in your married 
 life?' 
 
 ' Happy, Herre ? Who is happy ? 'Tis 
 but a change of masters for us women, and 
 the master who pays wage is sure to treat us 
 better than tlie master wlio doesn't. The men 
 are all alike. Not that it makes any differ- 
 ence to me.' 
 
 The rain poured heavily, in a steady, de- 
 pressing, hopeless kind of way. There was 
 not a single break in the leaden covering of 
 the sky, nor a gleam of brightness anywhere. 
 What did William mean by letting his 
 daughter go out in such weather ? What 
 did Therese mean by staying away so 
 long ? I would reproach her with severity 
 when she returned. I would hide my de- 
 light under a show of anger. Would she 
 be submissive or rebellious — shamefaced 
 or indignant? No matter how, if she only 
 came. 
 
PROSIT/ 279 
 
 For, oh me ! longing was passing into 
 pain, and appetite becoming hunger. 
 
 ' Will she be back soon ? ' I said, unable 
 further to curb my impatience. 
 
 'Soon? Nay, I cannot tell. That'll be 
 as the whim takes her. She never does 
 what you expect her to do. The master has 
 himself to thank for it. Maybe she'll never 
 come back.' 
 
 ' Woman, what do you mean ? ' 
 
 'You'll do yourself an injury, Herre, il 
 you put yourself out of the way like that. 
 But the men are all alike, every Hanswurst 
 among them.' 
 
 ' What do you mean, I say ? '' 
 
 'Mean? Why, that Peter's Nick, who 
 is as bisf a fool as ever drew the breath 
 
 o 
 
 of life, is glowering out on the rain just like 
 you, with a face sour enough to turn the 
 milk. " If you want to be pitched into," I 
 said, " I can do that as well as the Mddel. 
 
28o THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 Flesh and blood wouldn't stand the way 
 she treats you," I said, " let alone bones and 
 sinew. But that's the way of the men, they'd 
 rather have a slap in the face from her than 
 a kiss from another." ' 
 
 I threw open the casement and let the 
 rain fall upon my heated head. The wind, 
 rushing in cold and wet, seemed to freeze 
 me to my marrow. I shivered and trembled, 
 as it drearily repeated the words of Fleurette : 
 ' Maybe she'll never come back.' 
 
 'You'll catch your death, Herre,' said 
 Fleurette, advancing to shut the window. 
 ' Ugh I how the wind whistles ! You'd think 
 'twas speaking to you, many a time.' 
 
 ' What was that ? ' I cried, for the door 
 creaked loudly and the latch trembled as if 
 a spectral hand were laid upon it. 
 
 ' It's the rain-wind,' answered Fleurette, 
 reseating herself; 'it was like this the first 
 night I took the Kindli to my breast along 
 
PROSIT! 281 
 
 with my own Lise, who is just of her age. 
 And the Fraii^ her mother, was lying laid 
 out in the next room, covered with flowers, 
 and quiet enough then. I had the laying of 
 her out myself, and a beautiful corpse she 
 did make, to be sure. The Mddel would make 
 a beautiful corpse too ; I've often thought so.' 
 
 As she spoke, the tortured wind broke 
 out into a prolonged and ominous wail, while 
 the old worm-eaten Schenke trembled to its 
 basis. The excitement of deferred hope, and 
 the woman's heartless talk, and the tempest 
 together, sent the blood whirling into my 
 temples until they almost burst. I began 
 to pace the room like a furious caged 
 animal. 
 
 ' They were brought up together,' con- 
 tinued Fleurette, folding up her stocking. 
 ' THerese and my own Miidel^ and brought 
 up just the same except tliat the one got a 
 sight of beating and the other got none. And 
 
282 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 my Lise's a good, honest, hard-working girl 
 now, earning her eighty francs a year in 
 Lucerne, though the lads vron't have aught 
 to do with her, because of a squint she was 
 born with and a lame leg that no beating 
 would cure. As for the other, if you want 
 to look for her, Herre, go to the Mannsleut' 
 — they'll be tlie ones that can tell you. When 
 she was but a baby she was always in the 
 SchenJcstuhe with the lads, and they making as 
 much of her as if she were a countess. But 
 it's none of my business, even if it were any 
 good talking to the men ! Better keep one's 
 breath for one's porridge.' 
 
 She stumped heavily away, shaking every 
 article in the room during her progress to the 
 door, and leaving me again to my own reflec- 
 tions or to guesses as to what the wind was 
 saying. 
 
 It was saying something now to which I 
 was forced to listen, though I would fain have 
 
PROSIT! 28 3 
 
 turned a deaf ear to it — something about cruel 
 ingratitude to a benefactor — something about 
 a father wronged and a daughter betrayed — 
 something about a kiss heavily purchased. 
 
 A kiss ! her kiss ! With another wild rush 
 of the wind Comprehension came and looked 
 down upon me, forcing me to understand. I 
 knew now what the wind was saying, and why 
 Therese was gone. I knew now what her kiss 
 signified. 
 
 Her kiss ! Again it burned on my cheek, 
 and now like a criminal brand which could 
 never be effaced — a brand that would stand 
 for ever between me and married happiness. 
 
 Marriage ? How dared I contemplate 
 marriage, when all sophistical argument was 
 hushed within me for ever ; when I was look- 
 ing upon unveiled Truth and the whip of 
 scorpions she held for my chastisement, and 
 shuddering with dread and unutterable terror 
 at the punishment I was called upon to endure ? 
 
284 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 For to witness the pain of those to whom 
 we owe much, and whom we have injured, 
 is the most awful punishment God can lay 
 upon us. And oh, how terrible is His wrath ! 
 Who may stand when He is angry ? 
 
 For I knew now that with every fibre of 
 my heart I loved this village maiden — loved 
 her in despite of unknown goddesses, and 
 fidelity, and common sense, and all the rest of 
 it. I knew, too — and the knowledge was a 
 sharp sword dividing the joints and marrow 
 — that she loved me. Oh joy, unutterably 
 divine ! pain unendurable ! for my dastardly 
 base-born pride was still stronger than my 
 love, and in the fierce conflict which would 
 ensue between them, one — the weaker one — 
 must perish. 
 
 I knew now that my love for the beautiful 
 Unknown had been but a phantom of my own 
 creation ; but tliis was a flesh-and-blood love, 
 with a beating heart and throbbing pulse, 
 
PROSIT! 285 
 
 which would bleed if I murdered it. Yet 
 there was no alternative. I must murder it. 
 
 And now it came and stood beside me, 
 looking into my eyes with its reproachful ones, 
 and I knew that those tender orbs would 
 haunt me for ever. Love stood alone, un- 
 armed, defenceless, but Pride had an army in 
 its rear. See them rallying behind it, my 
 father, my mother, Lord George Graceless, 
 and Sir Harry Goitt, the world, and the world's 
 wife. Hear them applauding Pride's vehe- 
 mently hissed : * Lnpossible ! Though thou 
 art fit to die for love of her, thou canst never 
 make Therese thy wife.' 
 
 ' I might have consented,' so my father 
 seemed to say, ' to a union with the beautiful 
 and accomplished lady, the companion of a 
 Princess, but to this — never. The girl is a 
 Schenkmddchen^ the Herzchen and Liebchen 
 of village lads. Worse even than tliis, she is 
 the daughter of a footman and a lady's-maid. 
 
286 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 She belongs to the lowest of the people. A 
 gentleman may ruin any number of the class 
 he likes, but to marry one of them is a crime 
 against society so atrocious that it must be 
 punished, for the protection of society, by 
 social death. Good gracious ! if we allowed 
 any such intrusion into our phalanxed ranks, 
 what would become of JJs ? For we cannot 
 but see that in beauty, talent, virtue, these 
 outsiders often — oh, very often ! — carry off the 
 palm.' 
 
 To these remarks everyone but Love clap- 
 ped approval. Love stood silent, looking at 
 me. 
 
 Fierce and long was the conflict, for, as 
 Moppert said, ' Love is very powerful,' but at 
 last it ceased. They locked my heart up in 
 a dark dungeon, where it would never more 
 be gladdened by the sunshine, and Love lay 
 prostrate and motionless at my feet. I turned 
 my head away, for I feared its breaking eyes. 
 
PROSIT/ 287 
 
 It was dead ; but even in death was stronger 
 than any hving thing. 
 
 And this, I thought, smihng bitterly, is the 
 happiness which society gives, in exchange for 
 what she has robbed me ! It is a curious- 
 lookincj creature, and contact with it chills me 
 to the marrow of my bones. But Mrs. Grundy 
 has weighed in the balance and declared it 
 not wanting. Prosit to it, therefore ! I drink 
 your health, fair (no, not fair — foul — what 
 are words ?) — foul creature. Long life to you ! 
 
 What are words? Evidently nothing. 
 Evidently the devil's own invention to mislead 
 us. I am moved to laugh over fools that 
 believe in them. You tell me this is happiness, 
 and I know it is profoundest misery, yet I say 
 ' Amen ' to your words. Prosit to it, therefore ; 
 prosit, prosit ! 
 
 I have been sitting; for a lonf? time, motion- 
 less and numbed, pondering, half-dead and 
 half-alive, over the enigma of life. I have 
 
288 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 resolved that death is its only solution. I am 
 becoming feverishly anxious for that solution. 
 I wonder whether society would approve of 
 the haven towards which I am steering. 
 
 Oh, how my aching head burns, and how 
 high my pulse beats against the finger pressing 
 it ; but hurrah, hurrah ! society approves of 
 me I How cold and benumbed is my im- 
 prisoned heart, but Llrs. Grundy wishes it 
 long life in its dungeon ! How profound is 
 the death of all that made life valuable, but 
 they were offered up to a great Juggernaut ! 
 How I laughed, to be sure, with the German 
 student's gay words of greeting upon my lips. 
 Prosit to you, dearly beloved friends, who 
 have demanded from me more than my heart's 
 blood, and have got it ! Prosit, prosit, prosit ! 
 
 Then I went to bed and slept, and in tlie 
 dead of night ' a spirit passed before my face 
 and the hair of my flesh stood up.' 
 
 Oh, my murdered love ! Society cannot 
 
PROSIT! 289 
 
 exorcise thy spirit, or command thee not to 
 haunt me. Even in my sleep I heard thee 
 turn in thy coffin, and ' an image was before 
 
 mine eyes, saying ' 
 
 Oh, my murdered love ! I will not betray 
 thee. Thy words are hidden in my heart, and 
 it is only thou who hast the key thereof. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
290 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 ' DOWJS^ TO PENZANCE.' 
 
 Gladly, 
 
 Yet sadly, 
 
 One presence to flee ; 
 
 Ever 
 
 And never 
 
 A pris'ner to be ; 
 
 Now up in heaven. 
 
 Now sad unto death ; 
 
 Love is life's leaven, 
 
 Elixir and breath. 
 
 Translated from Goethe. 
 
 Strengthened to the resolution by a deep 
 draught of a cordial with which I supple- 
 mented my coffee, I determined to tear myself 
 away from temptation, and leave Gutsch as 
 speedily as possible. And as I dressed with 
 trembling hands I tried to persuade myself 
 that I was suffering in a righteous cause. For 
 the iron chains forged by education are the 
 
'DOWN TO PENZANCE' 291 
 
 strongest earth knows of, and to rend one's- 
 self free from them the work of a Hercules. 
 
 Yet, so inconsistent are we, that, though 
 I resolved never to see Therese again, the 
 tliought that maybe she had resolved the same 
 maddened me. My pride rose haughtily and 
 defiantly against coercion. If I could not be 
 the high priest of my own sacrifice, I would 
 not submit to it at all. 
 
 My toilet completed and the time for action 
 come, the power to act seemed taken from 
 me. My fierce resolve, my fiercer opposition, 
 were subdued into a piteous cry for mercy. 
 ' Let me see her once more,' I cried, 'only once, 
 to say farewell for ever ! ' 
 
 I sank back into my seat again, my reso- 
 lution forgotten, every sense turned inward. 
 I sat there for weeks, days, hours — I know 
 not how long. They brought me food and 
 drink, and I ate, I think. They talked to me, 
 and I answered, I think. The body did its 
 
 jj 2 
 
292 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 best to hide that it was tenantless, that the 
 soul had gone from it. 
 
 But I know it was evening, and the heavy- 
 sky lightened and the stars shining, when 
 William came and sat down beside me, lookincr 
 at me with eyes in which was a whole world 
 of pain, but not one gleam of anger. 
 
 Then the soul came back into my body 
 with a rush, and the veil which had fallen 
 over my brain was lifted. 
 
 ' You know all ? ' I said. 
 
 ' Yes, sir, yes ; I think I do.' 
 
 ' And you are not angry .^ ' 
 
 ' Sir. I will not tell you a lie. I was that 
 angry with you all yesterday that I could have 
 killed you. I came to drive you out, and if 
 you had resisted I would have killed you as I 
 would kill a wolf who had crept into the fold.' 
 
 He stopped, trembling ; the veins in his 
 bronzed forehead swelling to thick cords, and 
 the sweat covering him like beads. 
 
'DOWN TO PENZANCE' 293 
 
 'I would have killed you,' he continued 
 hoarsely, ' as I would kill an animal whom I 
 had warmed and fed, and who repaid me by 
 mortally wounding that which was dearer to 
 me than my hfe.' 
 
 He covered his face with his stron^r hands, 
 and I knew, by the quivering of his whole 
 body, that he was weeping. I had sinned, I 
 had sinned, but Heaven knows how heavy 
 then was my punishment ! 
 
 I put my hand upon his arm ; but for the 
 moment it was more than he could bear, and 
 he shook it off fiercely. Then with a painful 
 effort he regained his self-control. 
 
 ' Sir, I can't shake hands with you yet, I 
 can't. Though I know by what I saw when I 
 came to drive you out ; hoping, yes, hoping, 
 that you would resist, and I might have a pre- 
 text to kill you — I saw, I say, that you were 
 suffering too, and that stayed me. And now 
 I have promised her, my maiden, and you 
 
294 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 wouldn't be safer with the mother who bore 
 you than you are with me. You wouldn't, I 
 say, you wouldn't.' 
 
 He spoke loudly, as if trying to convince 
 someone who was stoutly incredulous, and he 
 clenched his hands with the passionate vehe- 
 mence of a man who must hurt somebody, 
 even if it be only himself. 
 
 ' And I am glad yon are not drowned, I 
 am glad ; but oh, if it had pleased God A'mighty 
 to let someone else draw you out of the lake ! ' 
 
 ' William,' I cried, ' my sin has been great, 
 but you think worse of me than I deserve. I 
 am afraid you think ' 
 
 ' I think my maiden's heart is broke, sir, 
 that's what I think. If I thought worse than 
 that, no power on earth should save you — no^ 
 nor no power in heaven neither.' 
 
 ' Have you sent her away ? ' The ques- 
 tion was forced from my hps. I could not 
 keep it back any longer. 
 
'DOWN TO PENZANCE' 295 
 
 For my heart began to heave and cliafe in 
 its dungeon, and my lips to tremble with pas- 
 sionate yearning to taste once more what I 
 had forsworn for ever. I had resolved to 
 give my maiden up, but Uke the drunkard 
 who has resolved never to touch another drop 
 of that which has unmanned him, like tlie 
 opium-eater who, knowing what he must pay 
 for his ecstasy, has resolved to touch the 
 poison no more, I trembled from head to foot 
 with the vehemence of my desire. Eesolution, 
 unable to cope with Passion, fell prostrate. I 
 must see her again or I should die. 
 
 ' Yes, sir,' answered William, not only to 
 the question, but to the unspoken thought, ' I 
 have sent her away. You must never see her 
 again.' 
 
 ' It's been bore in upon me,' he continued, 
 ' to ^peak to you clear and open, and to save 
 others if I can from that which she has 
 suffered. For young gentlemen like you, 
 
296 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 brought up to think the world was made for 
 'em, do a sight o' wickedness, and cause such 
 misery all along o' thoughtlessness, as might 
 make the angels in heaven weep to think on ; 
 but so far as we are concerned it might ha' 
 been worse. My maiden's heart is broke, but 
 there is no stain upon her honour.' 
 
 'I never had a thought concerning her 
 that was not as pure as herself,' I interrupted. 
 
 ' Ah, sir,' said William, ' deeds is hke words ; 
 they spring up we hardly knows how, and are 
 awful, unalterable facts before we had quite 
 shaped 'em into thoughts. The road to sin is 
 like the road down our glaciers — soft and 
 smooth and easy. We slide down, down, 
 faster and faster, and there we are over the 
 precipice, lost for ever, before we had even 
 seen to what we were driving.' 
 
 I hung my head, and William went on : 
 
 ' There's a deal in ' bringin' up, sir, and 
 maybe if I'd been brought up as badly as you 
 
'DOWN TO PENZANCE' 297 
 
 I might ha' been no better. But, thank God, 
 I wasn't. Sin was made hard to me, sir. I'll 
 tell you just a little story out o' my life, and 
 let it be a warning to you. 
 
 'I were born in Cornwall, down to Penzance 
 — maybe you've heard tell o' Penzance — and 
 my mother were a Wesley an. I used to go 
 with her to Gwennap Pit to hear Wesley 
 preach, and I never forgot it. We lived in a 
 almshouse, for my father were dead — he died 
 before I can remember. 
 
 ' There was a old Quaker gentleman who 
 lived near Penzance, and my mother had been 
 a servant in his fam'ly — 'twas he who got her 
 into the almshouse, where we was very com- 
 fortable. He lived in a curious old house ; it 
 had been a cottage and had got added to, here 
 a room and there a room, as they was wanted. 
 This house stood in the most beautiful garden 
 you can imagine. I've seen heaps of gardens, 
 but never one like that ; and as for flowers 
 
298 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 and fruit, there never was any like them in 
 that garden down to Penzance. 
 
 ' Well, I used to do a day's weeding now 
 and then in this garden, and one day I was 
 working there, and the strawberries was ripe 
 and the day was very hot, and as I worked 
 the smell of 'em came towards me so sweet 
 and temptin', and I couldn't help thinkin' 
 about 'em. 
 
 ' Now I had been brought up honest. My 
 mother used to say 'twas all one whether you 
 stole a pin or a sovereign, and I never before 
 thought o' tastin' unless some was given to me. 
 But it was hot and I was dry, and my eyes 
 kept wanderin' to the strawberries and to one 
 in particklar. There was such heaps on 'em. 
 
 ' " Thou shalt not steal," something 
 seemed to say in my ear. 
 
 ' But I was so dry. Well, I would go and 
 get a drink of water. 
 
 ' There was two ways to the well. One led 
 
'DOWN TO PENZANCE' ic^c^ 
 
 right through the strawberries ; the otlier 
 way was longer round. 
 
 ' I knew which way I ought to take very 
 well, but some thin' else seemed to say that I 
 was a downright coward ; that 'twas a heap 
 braver to go into the thick o' temptation than 
 to run away from it, and I listened to this 
 second voice. I didn't drive it away. I listened 
 to it. 
 
 ' Oh, sir, that ain't true courage. Them 
 as go in pride of heart to the brink o' tempta- 
 tion have no call to wonder if they fall over.' 
 
 He sighed deeply, then went on : 
 
 ' Well, sir, I hadn't listened long before I 
 acted. I went tlirough the strawberries, and 
 before I had taken a dozen steps my eyes 
 seemed forced to look at 'em, and I saw one — 
 oh, so big and ripe and juicy ! — and my hand 
 seenied forced to take. What can you expect ? 
 When you listen to the devil, he soon teaches 
 you that he is a heap cleverer than you are. 
 
300 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 * So I stooped and picked, and before I 
 knew rightly what I were doing I had one at 
 my mouth. 
 
 ' Then something occurred for which I 
 have thanked God ever since, though then I 
 thought I'd rather have died than had it 
 happen. Somebody grasped me by the 
 collar, and I looked up into the eyes of the 
 master 
 
 ' And the strawberry, untasted, fell from 
 my lips. 
 
 ' I've seen a many kind faces since the 
 old man died, sir, but I never saw a kinder. 
 Folk has told me since that for all he was 
 a simple Quaker gentleman, he was full of 
 knowledge as well as love, and that many 
 people in the great world knew and honoured 
 him. But whatever he did for others, I know 
 this, that he saved me, and that I shall bless 
 him for it as long as I live. 
 
 ' I think I see him now, in his broad- 
 
'DOWN TO PENZANCE' 301 
 
 brimmed Quaker hat and knee-breeches ; he 
 was rayther short and stout, but looked such 
 a true gentleman as I never saw since. 
 You'd ha' trusted him only to look at him, for 
 there wasn't a harsh line in his face, and his 
 grey eyes, with their bushy white eyebrows, 
 were as kind as they were keen. But I'd 
 rayther anyone in the world had found me 
 stealing than him or my mother. 
 
 '"Boy," he said, "what art thou doing F " 
 
 ' " 'Twas the first one, sir," I stammered. 
 
 ' " How many apples dost thou think Eve 
 ate before it was sin ? " 
 
 ' I sobbed aloud as he asked the question. 
 
 ' " Now I want to make sin so hard to 
 thee that thou wilt never want to try it 
 again," he said. "What had I better do — 
 flog thee myself or take thee home to thy 
 mother ? " 
 
 ' " Oh, sir," I said, " flog me yourself, but 
 don't tell my mother." 
 
302 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 ' " I think I must," he said. " I have no 
 right to deceive her, and besides, if she's the 
 Dorothy of old, she'd never think it was 
 properly done unless she did it herself." 
 
 ' That was so true that I could not say 
 another word. Everybody who knew my 
 mother knew that. She had never struck me 
 in her life, but I knew if I had to be struck 
 she would a heap rayther do it herself, and 
 that she'd be sure to do it thorough. 
 
 ' So I was marched out through the 
 beautiful garden to my home in the alms- 
 house, where my mother sat knitting. She 
 looked up amazed as our shadows fell over 
 her ; then after a few words from my master 
 looked alone at me. 
 
 ' Sir, I never needed to be told again 
 what stealing only a strawberry meant to her. 
 And my master let go of my collar to take 
 her hand, saying, in a voice that sounded 
 as if tears had got into it, " Dorothy, if I 
 
'DOWN TO PENZANCE' 303 
 
 had known I would have kept it from 
 thee." 
 
 ' I got my flogging, of course, and no light 
 one neither, but 'twas nothing, nothing after 
 that look. When I went back to my work 
 the next day, I had to go and ask my master 
 to forgive me. He lifted up my chin and looked 
 steadily into my eyes. 
 
 ' " Now, my son," he said, " remember next 
 time thou art tempted that there's a flogging 
 at the end of it." 
 
 ' " Yes, sir," I answered, " and my mother." 
 
 ' Well,' continued William, looking hard 
 at me, ' it were bore in upon me that, maybe, 
 'twere something with you as with me and 
 the strawberry — you didn't know what road 
 you was going on. One kiss 'ud hurt 
 nobody ' 
 
 He paused as if a sudden thought had 
 struck him, and looked before him in blank 
 bcAvilderment. 'But the strawberry,' lie 
 
304 THROUGH LOVE TO LIFE 
 
 muttered, ' what about it ? The soft rain and 
 the sunshine didn't ripen it for that. Was it 
 ripened to be thrown away ? — it, the sweetest 
 and the ruddiest/ 
 
 The great enigma, the terrible enigma 
 which has racked men's brains oft enough, 
 was suggesting itself to him now, and under 
 the pain of it his strong Christian faith trem- 
 bled and waxed faint. ' What about the straw- 
 berry ? ' he repeated, * what about it ? ' 
 
 He did not know that he would have 
 puzzled all the sages and divines the world 
 ever heard of by that simple question. He 
 did not know that behind it lay all knowledge ; 
 beyond it, nothing but faith. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 Sjpottimoode <t Co. Pr-intert, New-street Square, London. 
 

UNIVERSmr OF ILLINOIS-URBANA 
 
 3 0112 056518779 
 
 
 ,'.>::>^.