the dark flower-第31节

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one　unbearable　thing　to　have　been　left　remembering！　　She　stood　long
looking　down；　as　if　trying　to　see　the　future　in　her　dim　flower…
beds；　then；　bracing　herself；　hurried　to　the　house。　　No　one　was　on
the　veranda；　no　one　in　the　drawing…room。　　She　looked　at　the　clock。
Nearly　eleven。　　Ringing　for　the　servant　to　shut　the　windows；　she
stole　up　to　her　room。　　Had　her　husband　gone　away　as　he　had　come？
Or　would　she　presently　again　be　face　to　face　with　that　dread；　the
nerve　of　which　never　stopped　aching　now；　dread　of　the　night　when　he
was　near？　　She　determined　not　to　go　to　bed；　and　drawing　a　long
chair　to　the　window；　wrapped　herself　in　a　gown；　and　lay　back。

The　flower　from　her　dress；　miraculously　uncrushed　in　those　dark
minutes　on　the　grass；　she　set　in　water　beside　her　at　the　window
Mark's　favourite　flower；　he　had　once　told　her；　it　was　a　comfort；
with　its　scent；　and　hue；　and　memory　of　him。

Strange　that　in　her　life；　with　all　the　faces　seen；　and　people
known；　she　had　not　loved　one　till　she　had　met　Lennan！　　She　had　even
been　sure　that　love　would　never　come　to　her；　had　not　wanted　it
very　much；　had　thought　to　go　on　well　enough；　and　pass　out　at　the
end；　never　having　known；　or　much　cared　to　know；　full　summer。　　Love
had　taken　its　revenge　on　her　now　for　all　slighted　love　offered　her
in　the　past；　for　the　one　hated　love　that　had　to…night　been　on　its
knees　to　her。　　They　said　it　must　always　come　once　to　every　man　and
womanthis　witchery；　this　dark　sweet　feeling；　springing　up；　who
knew　how　or　why？　　She　had　not　believed；　but　now　she　knew。　　And
whatever　might　be　coming；　she　would　not　have　this　different。　　Since
all　things　changed；　she　must　change　and　get　old　and　be　no　longer
pretty　for　him　to　look　at；　but　this　in　her　heart　could　not　change。
She　felt　sure　of　that。　　It　was　as　if　something　said：　This　is　for
ever；　beyond　life；　beyond　death；　this　is　for　ever！　　He　will　be
dust；　and　you　dust；　but　your　love　will　live！　　Somewherein　the
woods；　among　the　flowers；　or　down　in　the　dark　water；　it　will　haunt！
For　it　only　you　have　lived！　。　。　。　　Then　she　noticed　that　a　slender
silvery…winged　thing；　unlike　any　moth　she　had　ever　seen；　had
settled　on　her　gown；　close　to　her　neck。　　It　seemed　to　be　sleeping；
so　delicate　and　drowsy；　having　come　in　from　the　breathless　dark；
thinking；　perhaps；　that　her　whiteness　was　a　light。　　What　dim　memory
did　it　rouse；　something　of　HIM；　something　HE　had　donein　darkness；
on　a　night　like　this。　　Ah；　yes！　that　evening　after　Gorbio；　the
little　owl…moth　on　her　knee！　　He　had　touched　her　when　he　took　that
cosy　wan　velvet…eyed　thing　off　her！

She　leaned　out　for　air。　　What　a　night！whose　stars　were　hiding　in
the　sheer　heavy　warmth；　whose　small；　round；　golden　moon　had　no
transparency！　　A　night　like　a　black　pansy　with　a　little　gold　heart。
And　silent！　　For；　of　the　trees；　that　whispered　so　much　at　night；
not　even　the　aspens　had　voice。　　The　unstirring　air　had　a　dream…
solidity　against　her　cheeks。　　But　in　all　the　stillness；　what
sentiency；　what　passionas　in　her　heart！　　Could　she　not　draw　HIM
to　her　from　those　woods；　from　that　dark　gleaming　river；　draw　him
from　the　flowers　and　trees　and　the　passion…mood　of　the　skydraw
him　up　to　her　waiting　here；　so　that　she　was　no　more　this　craving
creature；　but　one　with　him　and　the　night！　　And　she　let　her　head
droop　down　on　her　hands。

All　night　long　she　stayed　there　at　the　window。　　Sometimes　dozing　in
the　chair；　once　waking　with　a　start；　fancying　that　her　husband　was
bending　over　her。　　Had　he　beenand　stolen　away？　　And　the　dawn
came；　dew…grey；　filmy　and　wistful；　woven　round　each　black　tree；　and
round　the　white　dove…cot；　and　falling　scarf…like　along　the　river。
And　the　chirrupings　of　birds　stirred　among　leaves　as　yet　invisible。

She　slept　then。


XVIII


When　she　awoke　once　more；　in　daylight；　smiling；　Cramier　was
standing　beside　her　chair。　　His　face；　all　dark　and　bitter；　had　the
sodden　look　of　a　man　very　tired。

〃So！〃　he　said：　〃Sleeping　this　way　doesn't　spoil　your　dreams。　　Don't
let　me　disturb　them。　　I　am　just　going　back　to　Town。〃

Like　a　frightened　bird；　she　stayed；　not　stirring；　gazing　at　his
back　as　he　leaned　in　the　window；　till；　turning　round　on　her　again；
he　said：

〃But　remember　this：　What　I　can't　have；　no　one　else　shall！　　Do　you
understand？　　No　one　else！〃　　And　he　bent　down　close；　repeating：　〃Do
you　understandyou　bad　wife！〃

Four　years'　submission　to　a　touch　she　shrank　from；　one　long　effort
not　to　shrink！　　Bad　wife！　　Not　if　he　killed　her　would　she　answer
now！

〃Do　you　hear？〃　he　said　once　more：　〃Make　up　your　mind　to　that。　　I
mean　it。〃

He　had　gripped　the　arms　of　her　chair；　till　she　could　feel　it　quiver
beneath　her。　　Would　he　drive　his　fist　into　her　face　that　she
managed　to　keep　still　smiling？　　But　there　only　passed　into　his　eyes
an　expression　which　she　could　not　read。

〃Well；〃　he　said；　〃you　know！〃　and　walked　heavily　towards　the　door。

The　moment　he　had　gone　she　sprang　up：　Yes；　she　was　a　bad　wife！　　A
wife　who　had　reached　the　end　of　her　tether。　　A　wife　who　hated
instead　of　loving。　　A　wife　in　prison！　　Bad　wife！　　Martyrdom；　then；
for　the　sake　of　a　faith　in　her　that　was　lost　already；　could　be　but
folly。　　If　she　seemed　bad　and　false　to　him；　there　was　no　longer
reason　to　pretend　to　be　otherwise。　　No　longer　would　she；　in　the
words　of　the　old　song：'sit　and　sighpulling　bracken；　pulling
bracken。'　　No　more　would　she　starve　for　want　of　love；　and　watch　the
nights　throb　and　ache；　as　last　night　had　throbbed　and　ached；　with
the　passion　that　she　might　not　satisfy。

And　while　she　was　dressing　she　wondered　why　she　did　not　look　tired。
To　get　out　quickly！　　To　send　her　lover　word　at　once　to　hasten　to
her　while　it　was　safethat　she　might　tell　him　she　was　coming　to
him　out　of　prison！　　She　would　telegraph　for　him　to　come　that
evening　with　a　boat；　opposite　the　tall　poplar。　　She　and　her　Aunt
and　Uncle　were　to　go　to　dinner　at　the　Rectory；　but　she　would　plead
headache　at　the　last　minute。　　When　the　Ercotts　had　gone　she　would
slip　out；　and　he　and　she　would　row　over　to　the　wood；　and　be
together　for　two　hours　of　happiness。　　And　they　must　make　a　clear
plan；　toofor　to…morrow　they　would　begin　their　life　together。　　But
it　would　not　be　safe　to　send　that　message　from　the　village；　she
must　go　down　and　over　the　bridge　to　the　post…office　on　the　other
side；　where　they　did　not　know　her。　　It　was　too　late　now　before
breakfast。　　Better　after；　when　she　could　slip　away；　knowing　for
certain　that　her　husband　had　gone。　　It　would　still　not　be　too　late
for　her　telegramLennan　never　left　his　rooms　till　the　midday　post
which　brought　her　letters。

She　finished　dressing；　and　knowing　that　she　must　show　no　trace　of
her　excitement；　sat　quite　still　for　several　minutes；　forcing
herself　into　languor。　　Then　she　went　down。　　Her　husband　had
breakfasted　and　gone。　　At　everything　she　did；　and　every　word　she
spoke；　she　was　now　smiling　with　a　sort　of　wonder；　as　if　she　were
watching　a　self；　that　she　had　abandoned　like　an　old　garment；
perform　for　her　amusement。　　It　even　gave　her　no　feeling　of　remorse
to　think　she　was　going　to　do　what　would　be　so　painful　to　the　good
Colonel。　　He　was　dear　to　herbut　it　did　not　matter。　　She　was　past
all　that。　　Nothing　matterednothing　in　the　world！　　It　amused　her
to　believe　that　her　Uncle　and　Aunt　misread　her　last　night's　walk　in
the　dark　garden；　misread　her　languor　and　serenity。　　And　at　the
first　moment　possible　she　flew　out；　and　slipped　away　under　cover　of
the　yew…trees　towards　the　river。　　Passing　the　spot　where　her
husband　had　dragged　her　down　to　him　on　her　knees　in　the　grass；　she
felt　a　sort　of　surprise　that　she　could　ever　have　been　so　terrified。
What　was　he？　　The　pastnothing！　　And　she　flew　on。　　She　noted
carefully　the　river　bank　opposite　the　tall　poplar。　　It　would　be
quite　easy　to　get　down　from　there　into　a　boat。　　But　they　would　not
stay　in　that　dark　backwater。　　They　would　go　over　to　the　far　side
into　those　woods　from　which　last　night　the　moon　had　risen；　those
woods　from　which　the　pigeons　mocked　her　every　morning；　those　woods
so　full　of　summer。　　Coming　back；　no　one　would　see　her　landing；　for
it　would　be　pitch　dark　in　the　backwater。　　And；　while　she　hurried；
she　looked　back　across　her　shoulder；　marking　where　the　water；
entering；　ceased　to　be　bright。　　A　dragon…fly　brushed　her　cheek；　she
saw　it　vanish　where　the　sunlight　failed。　　How　suddenly　its　happy
flight　was　quenched　in　that　dark　shade；　as　a　candle　flame　blown
out。　　The　tree　growth　there　was　too　thickthe　queer　stumps　and
snags　had　uncanny　shapes；　as　of　monstrous　creatures；　whose　eyes
seemed　to　peer　out　at　you。　　She　shivered。　　She　had　seen　those
monsters　with　their　peering　eyes　somewhere。　　Ah！　　In　her　dream　at
Monte　Carlo　of　that　bull…face　staring　from　the　banks；　while　she
drifted　by；　unable　to　cry　out。　　No！　　The　backwater　was　not　a　happy
placethey　would　not　stay　there　a　single　minute。　　And　more　swiftly
than　ever　she　flew　on　along　the　path。　　Soon　she　had　crossed　the
bridge；　sent　off　her　message；　and　returned。　　But　there　were　ten
hours　to　get　through　before　eight　o'clock；　and　she　did　not　hurry
now。　　She　wanted　this　day　of　summer　to　herself　alone；　a　day　of
dreaming　till　he　came；　this　day　for　which　all　her　life　till　now　had
been　shaping　herthe　day　of　love。　　Fate　was　ve