CHAPTER XXXI
"ADREA'S DIARY"
"Farewell to the dead ashes of life."
The path which I had been following led straight up to the bare,arched door of the building. I had reached it unmolested, and rang thebell.
What a hoarse, clanging sound! I shivered as I stood there listeningto its gloomy echoes until they died away. No one came. The placeseemed wrapped in an austere silence. I listened, but I could hear nosound within; only the dull, melancholy sighing of the wind amongst asickly avenue of firs behind.
I stretched out my hand, and rang again. Almost before the echoes haddied away I heard footsteps within. A heavy bolt was withdrawn, anda dark-robed monk stood on the threshold before me. He recoiled for amoment at seeing a woman, and I thought that he would have closed thedoor, but he did not.
"What would you have at this hour, sister?" he asked sternly. "Thechapel is closed, and morning is the time for dispensing charity."
"I have come in search of a priest who is only a visitor here," Isaid. "Father Adrian he is called!"
He seemed still indisposed to admit me. "Is your business urgent?" heasked doubtfully. "Father Adrian is at his devotions, and must not belightly disturbed."
"It is urgent," I answered.
He beckoned me to follow him, and in silence led me a few yards down abare stone corridor. Then he threw open the door of a small room, andbade me enter.
"This is the guest-chamber," he said. "Wait here, and I will summonFather Adrian!"
He closed the door and disappeared. The interior of the room in whichhe had left me was bare and chilling. I turned from it to the window.Almost opposite was a small eminence, and at its summit a rude crossof Calvary. A dark figure, with clasped hands and bent head, wasslowly descending the path.
Even at that distance I thought I recognised the walk, and as he camenearer I saw that he was wearing the ordinary garb of a Roman Catholicpriest instead of the monk's robes. I stood close to the windowwatching him, and as he crossed the open space before the door heraised his eyes and saw me. How he started, and how his eyes seemedto burn in their sockets! Doubtless he would have turned paler, but hewas already deathly white. He stood there, swaying from side to side,with his eyes fastened wildly upon me, as though an apparition hadappeared before him. Then he took a quick step forward; I heard thegreat front door creak and groan upon its hinges, and almost as soonas I could turn round he was on the threshold before me.
"Adrea! Adrea!" he cried, in a low, suppressed whisper which shookwith passion. "You here! What has happened? Stand in the light! Let mesee your face!"
I moved a step towards him, and raised my veil. "I am lonely," I saidsoftly. "Was it very wrong of me to come here?"
He stood before me, with hungry, incredulous eyes fastened upon myface, as though he would see through it into my false heart. Yet Idid not flinch; I was actress enough for my part. I watched himtremble--watched the colour flush into his face and die away. It wasa very storm of passion which shook him before he could find the wordsto answer me.
"Adrea! Adrea! have you come here to mock me? As you are a woman, Iimplore you to spare me! Speak the truth!"
I answered him softly, with my eyes fixed upon the ground. "I camebecause I was lonely. Let us go away from here! Come home with me!"
"Home with you! Home with you!" He repeated my invitation. He scarcelyseemed to understand.
"Yes! I was very silly the other day! I did not understand you! I didnot understand myself! And you see I have humbled myself very much! Ihave come to tell you so! Am I forgiven?"
I raised my eyes to his, and added in a half whisper: "Won't you comehome with me, and read aloud, as we used to on the rocks at Cruta?"
He stood there as though fascinated. I began to feel impatient, but Idared not show any signs of it.
Suddenly he took a quick step towards me, and before I could preventit he had thrown himself at my feet on the cold stone floor, and washolding my hands tightly in his.
"Adrea!" he cried, his voice choked with passion, "is this thing true?My brain reels with the delight of it; but, oh, forgive me if I seemto doubt! I know nothing of women, but surely your lips could neverlie! You are not mocking me? Oh, Adrea, my love, lift up your eyes andswear that this is no dream. I am dizzy with joy! Speak to me! Let melook into your face! I am not doubting you, yet say it once more! Tellme it is not a dream!"
I lied to him with my face, and with my eyes, and with my lips. "It isno dream," I said softly. "I have come to you, Adrian, because I wantyou. No one else would do."
He stood up, pale and shaken. His voice was still full of deep,throbbing earnestness. "Adrea!" he cried, "to-day I have been fightinga grim fight. Look into my face and mark its traces. I am desperate!For hours I have knelt on what was once a hallowed spot. In vain! Invain! On my knees before the cross of Calvary I have striven to pray,as a man wrestles for his life with the waves of a great ocean. Alas!alas! In the twilight I fancied always that your face was movingamongst the shadows, and even the breeze which rustled in the shrubsaround seemed ever to be murmuring your name. Oh, my love, my love,sometimes I wonder that I have lived through the anguish of thesedays. But it is over! You have come to me, and the evil days are past.I renounce my priesthood! It has become only a barren farce to me!Heaven or hell, what matters it? I leave here with you to-night neverto return! Never! never! never!"
He pressed hot kisses upon my hands; they stung me like molten lead,but I did not withdraw them. Then he rose up and held out his arms tome with a great yearning stealing into his dark eyes. But I kept himaway.
"Not here! not here!" I cried. "I heard footsteps outside. Let us go!"
"You are right," he answered. "Wait for me; I have but fewpreparations to make."
He left me, and I breathed freely again. I had no fears, nohesitation. I never dreamt of turning back; but I began to find mytask more difficult even than I had imagined. It was his touch, hispassionate looks and words which were so hard to endure. My lips couldlie, but it was hard to govern my looks; and oh, how I hated him!
Soon he was back--too soon for me; and then we left the place. He hadchanged his clothes, and, to my surprise, he wore an ordinarydark walking suit and a long ulster. He had discarded the priestaltogether.
At the bend he looked back. There was a rift in the clouds just behindthe hill of Calvary, and the rude cross stood out vividly against thesky. "At last!" he murmured; "at last! Farewell to the dead ashes oflife! It is rest to have ended the struggle, even to have fallen. Mynew life is here!"
He touched my hand fondly, and held it within his own. "How deathlycold your hand is, Adrea!" he said. "It is the night air. You arewell, are you not?" he added anxiously.
"Quite well; only tired."
He took my arm. I could not resist him, only I walked the moreswiftly. He tried to check me, but I shook my head. "I am cold andtired," I told him. "This desolate walk frightened me, and even withyou I think I am a little nervous. Let us hurry. Hark! What was that?"
"A bittern in the marshes! Why, Adrea, how frightened you are! It isnot like you!"
"I know it," I answered; "but to-night--to-night the air seems full ofwhisperings and strange sounds. Yes, I am frightened."
I shivered as I spoke. He would have drawn me closer to him, but Iwaved him away. How could he know anything of the horrors of that walkfor me! Strange phantoms seemed ever rising from the sea, stalkingacross the path, and away over the moor, and passing and repassing,grinning and whispering in my ear. Sometimes it seemed as though Icould have touched them by stretching out my hand; but when I tried,my fingers closed upon thin air. What were they? Why had they come totorment me? Was it because they scented an evil deed? Would they hauntme for ever like this? What folly! If I gave way so I should soon bealtogether unnerved, and my task was still before me. I closed my eyesand opened them again. They had gone! It was good! I had conquered!
* * * * *
It was late, and we h
ad eaten and drunk together. He was lying back inan easy-chair, flushed, and strange to say, wonderfully handsome. Thehollows in his cheeks seemed suddenly filled up, and his eyes weresoft and bright. I sat at his feet looking into the firelight.
"Will you answer me some questions, Adrian?" I asked. "There has beenso much mystery around us lately, and, like a woman, I am curious."
"Yes, I will tell you anything," he answered. "Am I not your slave,dearest? Only ask me them quickly. There are many things I have totalk about. What was that?" he added quickly. "Is there any one elsein this room?"
I shook my head. "No one; it was fancy. Tell me, who was Madame deMerteuill?"
"My mother!"
"Your mother?"
"Yes; and the old Count of Cruta is my grandfather. Madame deMerteuill is his daughter. But that is not her real name!"
There was a high screen just behind his chair,--a japanned one, whichseemed to have been badly used, for there was a great hole in it.While we had been talking a strange thing had happened. A man's handhad slowly been thrust through, and a crumpled piece of paper wasdropped upon the carpet. I moved to his side, and raised the cushionin his chair. Before I could help it he had caught my face, andpressed a hot, burning kiss upon my cheek. I dared not struggle. Ihad to yield, and endure for a moment his passionate embrace. Then Idropped my handkerchief upon the piece of paper, and picked up bothhastily.
"Will you tell me something else, please?"
"Anything you ask! You know that I will!"
"The De Vaux estates----"
"Are mine. I am the son of Martin de Vaux. Paul de Vaux has no claimat all. If I had remained in the Church, it was my intention to founda great monastery here. But now----"
"Well?"
"Everything is yours!"
There was a moment's silence. I drew the piece of paper from mypocket, as though by accident, and read it to myself. There were onlya few hastily scrawled lines:--
"I dare not do it. I am afraid. I will put the knife on the floor."
I glanced towards the hole. The hand was there, holding a long,gleaming dagger. It laid it noiselessly upon the carpet, and waswithdrawn. I went over to his side, and knelt down there.
"And what will become of Paul de Vaux?" I asked.
He laughed grimly. "He must take his chance. He knows the whole story.He has known since last night. Adrea, tell me once more," he pleaded:"you never loved him really,--say that you never did!"
"Are you jealous, sir?" I asked lightly. My left hand was wanderingdown his side! Ah! there was his heart! How it was beating! My righthand was on the floor, cautiously feeling its way towards the screen.It reached the dagger! I clutched it by the hilt! Now was the time.There was his heart. I knew the exact spot.
"Adrea, are you ill?" he asked. "How white and strange you look! Ah!"
* * * * *
It was done! Lucrezia Borgia could not have bungled less! He laydoubled up in the chair, with a long Genoese dagger buried in hisheart, and it was I who had done it!
Gomez crawled from behind the screen, and looked first at him andthen at me with protruding eyes. He tried to speak, but his teethchattered.
"It is done!" I said calmly, "and you are saved, Paul, my love," Iwhispered to myself. "Be a man, Gomez. We must carry it into the wood.Lift him gently; there must be no blood here."
It took all our strength to move him, and we had to drag him, yard byyard, down the avenue and across the road into the little wood.
My pen is weary of horrors. The memory of that hour is not to bewritten about. But when he turned away I took the flowers which he hadbegged for from my corsage and threw them down amongst the wet leaves.It was my sole moment of relenting.