CHAPTER XXX
"ADREA'S DIARY"
"A land that is lonelier than a ruin."
A cold twilight followed close upon the day. The sky was strewn withdark clouds, and a wild wind blew in my face. I was on an unknownroad, and in all my life I had seen nothing so dreary.
On one side, about a hundred yards away, was the sea; on the otherwas a broken stretch of bare moorland covered with only the scantiestherbage and piles of barren grey rocks. Some were lying together inquaint, grotesque shapes; others stood out alone against the sky,and broken fragments of all sizes covered the ground, choking anddestroying all vegetation. There was no background of woods or trees;there was nothing between that barren, stony surface and the leadensky. What turf there had been had lost its colour, and never afragment of moss had grown upon one of those weather-beaten boulders.The sea air had stained them, and the grey evening mists had rottedthem, until their surface was honeycombed with indentations, butneither had softened or toned down their fierce ugliness. Even in thebright sunlight such a country as this must still have been a countryof desolation, and a light heart must sometimes have lost its gaietyand felt oppressed. To me, as I hurried along, with the cold eveningsettling down around me, that walk was horrible. Strange shadowsseemed to dog my path and stalk solemnly along by my side. Footstepsseemed to follow behind me, and every stone I dislodged made me start.Sometimes I fancied that I heard strange whisperings in my ears, andI started round, shivering and trembling, to find myself alone. Once Istopped short. Was that a dead man in the way? How my heart beat! No!it was only a long boulder of rock! Listen! was not that the screamof a dying man? My own voice, raised in helpless terror, drowned thesound, and while I stood there ready to sink to the ground, a greatsea-gull came circling round my head, and the blood flowed warm in myveins once more. How sad and mournful was that solitary cry and slow,hopeless flapping of the wings! Who was it said that the evil spiritsof dead men dwell imprisoned in those sad-crying birds? It wasvery, very human, that cry. Bah! was I getting superstitious andfaint-hearted before my task was begun? I set my teeth and steppedboldly onwards. For a while I had no more fancies.
Throughout that hideous walk my whole imagination seemed colouredwith a reflection of the purpose towards which I was tending. I donot write this in any morbid fit. Few women have passed through whatI have passed through; fewer still have stopped to record theirsensations. It is strange that it should afford me any satisfaction torecord them here, but it is so. I have begun, and I must go on. Thispart of my life is drawing rapidly to a close, and with its close Ishall seal this little book up and put it away for ever.
The night grew darker, and the road was fast becoming little more thana rude cattle-track. A little distance ahead of me, from some buildingas yet unseen, a strong, clear light was steadily burning. Save forit, I might have feared that I had lost my way, for as yet I hadpassed no sign of human habitation. But that light was sufficient.Gomez had told me of it. It was the light which burned always, fromdusk to morning, from the tower of the monastery of St. Bernard.
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Two things seemed strange to me, or rather seem strange to me now,when I look back upon that walk. The first was my utter indifferenceto all physical pain. There was a hole in my boot, and I foundafterwards that my foot must have been bleeding most of the time. Inever felt it. I was conscious of neither pain nor fatigue. The secondthing which surprises me is that, as I drew near to my journey's end,I grew calmer. I had no desire to draw back. I had no fear. The thingwhich was before me never assumed any definite shape! It was there--inthe background--a dim, floating purpose, never once oppressingme, never forcing its way forward in my mind for more definiteconsideration, and only showing itself at all in a vague, luridglow which seemed to change even the shapes of all the gruesomesurroundings of my dismal walk. Towards the end of my expedition thisbecame even more marked. My thoughts had recoiled from the present tothe past. Vague pictures of the days that had gone by seemed floatingbefore my eyes. I saw myself in the convent garden, with all my littleworld enclosed in those four walls, and I heard the shrill laughterof the girls with whom I was walking, and I even fancied that I couldcatch the perfume of the lilac trees which drooped over the smoothlykept lawn. And then the picture faded away, and from the vessel's sideI saw Cruta, a purple-topped island rising like some precious jewelfrom the sea! I shuddered at the memory of that face, which soonbecame a living dread to me, and I heard again the passionate voiceof a dark-robed man reading poetry, and crushing with white, nervousfingers the hyacinths whose odour was making the air faint. I saw hiswhite, sad face, in which the struggle of the man against himself wasalready born--born, alas! in those long mornings by the sea, at myunconscious bidding! And soon Cruta, too, faded away, and you, Paul,my love, my dear, dear love, your face came to me. Almost my eyesclosed, almost I stayed here to dream. Ah! how the magic of this love,this wonderful love, lightens my little world! My heart is stirred tomusic, my blood is dancing. I am chilled no longer. Ah! Paul, it isfor you that I strike this blow, for you that I tread this stony way.It is sweet to think of it. I go on as blithely as ever a villagemaiden stepped forward to her wedding. The way is as sweet to me asa garden of roses. Your face, too, is dying out of my thoughts, Paul.Farewell! Farewell!
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The valley of the shadow of death! Did any one speak those words? Whatan evil fancy! Yet the air seemed full of whisperings. The valleyof the shadow of death! Yes! it might be that, and these cold, greyboulders the spirits of the evil ones risen up out of Hades. Is therea hell, I wonder? How chill and dark the air seems! There is deathabout!
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The sound of a single bell broke in upon my thoughts. I raisedmy eyes. My journey was accomplished. Before me was a grim, sternbuilding, and attached to it a chapel. It was the monastery of St.Bernard.