the dark flower-第25章

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talking；　too；　and　laughing　more　than　usual。　　One　would　have　said：　A
wife　delighted　to　welcome　her　husband！　　And　yet　there　was
somethingsomething　in　the　air；　in　the　feel　of　thingsthe
lowering　fixity　of　that　man's　eyes；　orthunder　coming；　after　all
this　heat！　　Surely　the　night　was　unnaturally　still　and　dark；　hardly
a　breath　of　air；　and　so　many　moths　out　there；　passing　the　beam　of
light；　like　little　pale　spirits　crossing　a　river！　　Mrs。　Ercott
smiled；　pleased　at　that　image。　　Moths！　　Men　were　like　moths；　there
were　women　from　whom　they　could　not　keep　away。　　Yes；　there　was
something　about　Olive　that　drew　men　to　her。　　Not　meretriciousto
do　her　justice；　not　that　at　all；　but　something　soft；　and…fatal；
like　one　of　these　candle…flames　to　the　poor　moths。　　John's　eyes
were　never　quite　as　she　knew　them　when　he　was　looking　at　Olive；　and
Robert　Cramier'swhat　a　queer；　drugged　look　they　had！　　As　for　that
other　poor　young　fellowshe　had　never　forgotten　his　face　when　they
came　on　him　in　the　Park！

And　when　after　dinner　they　sat　on　the　veranda；　they　were　all　more
silent　still；　just　watching；　it　seemed；　the　smoke　of　their
cigarettes；　rising　quite　straight；　as　though　wind　had　been
withdrawn　from　the　world。　　The　Colonel　twice　endeavoured　to　speak
about　the　moon：　It　ought　to　be　up　by　now！　　It　was　going　to　be　full。

And　then　Cramier　said：　〃Put　on　that　scarf　thing；　Olive；　and　come
round　the　garden　with　me。〃

Mrs。　Ercott　admitted　to　herself　now　that　what　John　said　was　true。
Just　one　gleam　of　eyes；　turned　quickly　this　way　and　that；　as　a　bird
looks　for　escape；　and　then　Olive　had　got　up　and　quietly　gone　with
him　down　the　path；　till　their　silent　figures　were　lost　to　sight。

Disturbed　to　the　heart；　Mrs。　Ercott　rose　and　went　over　to　her
husband's　chair。　　He　was　frowning；　and　staring　at　his　evening　shoe
balanced　on　a　single　toe。　　He　looked　up　at　her　and　put　out　his
hand。　　Mrs。　Ercott　gave　it　a　squeeze；　she　wanted　comfort。

The　Colonel　spoke：

〃It's　heavy　to…night；　Dolly。　　I　don't　like　the　feel　of　it。〃


XVII


They　had　passed　without　a　single　word　spoken；　down　through　the
laurels　and　guelder　roses　to　the　river　bank；　then　he　had　turned　to
the　right；　and　gone　along　it　under　the　dove…house；　to　the　yew…
trees。　　There　he　had　stopped；　in　the　pitch　darkness　of　that
foliage。　　It　seemed　to　her　dreadfully　still；　if　only　there　had　been
the　faintest　breeze；　the　faintest　lisping　of　reeds　on　the　water；
one　bird　to　make　a　sound；　but　nothing；　nothing　save　his　breathing；
deep；　irregular；　with　a　quiver　in　it。　　What　had　he　brought　her　here
for？　　To　show　her　how　utterly　she　was　his？　　Was　he　never　going　to
speak；　never　going　to　say　whatever　it　was　he　had　in　mind　to　say？
If　only　he　would　not　touch　her！

Then　he　moved；　and　a　stone　dislodged　fell　with　a　splash　into　the
water。　　She　could　not　help　a　little　gasp。　　How　black　the　river
looked！　　But　slowly；　beyond　the　dim　shape　of　the　giant　poplar；　a
shiver　of　light　stole　outwards　across　the　blackness　from　the　far
bankthe　moon；　whose　rim　she　could　now　see　rising；　of　a　thick　gold
like　a　coin；　above　the　woods。　　Her　heart　went　out　to　that　warm
light。　　At　all　events　there　was　one　friendly　inhabitant　of　this
darkness。

Suddenly　she　felt　his　hands　on　her　waist。　　She　did　not　move；　her
heart　beat　too　furiously；　but　a　sort　of　prayer　fluttered　up　from　it
against　her　lips。　　In　the　grip　of　those　heavy　hands　was　such
quivering　force！

His　voice　sounded　very　husky　and　strange：　〃Olive；　this　can't　go　on。
I　suffer。　　My　God！　　I　suffer！〃

A　pang　went　through　her；　a　sort　of　surprise。　　Suffer！　　She　might
wish　him　dead；　but　she　did　not　want　him　to　sufferGod　knew！　　And
yet；　gripped　by　those　hands；　she　could　not　say：　I　am　sorry！

He　made　a　sound　that　was　almost　a　groan；　and　dropped　on　his　knees。
Feeling　herself　held　fast；　she　tried　to　push　his　forehead　back　from
her　waist。　　It　was　fiery　hot；　and　she　heard　him　mutter：　〃Have
mercy！　　Love　me　a　little！〃　　But　the　clutch　of　his　hands；　never
still　on　the　thin　silk　of　her　dress；　turned　her　faint。　　She　tried
to　writhe　away；　but　could　not；　stood　still　again；　and　at　last　found
her　voice。

〃Mercy？　　Can　I　MAKE　myself　love？　　No　one　ever　could　since　the　world
began。　　Please；　please　get　up。　　Let　me　go！〃

But　he　was　pulling　her　down　to　him　so　that　she　was　forced　on　to　her
knees　on　the　grass；　with　her　face　close　to　his。　　A　low　moaning　was
coming　from　him。　　It　was　horribleso　horrible！　　And　he　went　on
pleading；　the　words　all　confused；　not　looking　in　her　face。　　It
seemed　to　her　that　it　would　never　end；　that　she　would　never　get
free　of　that　grip；　away　from　that　stammering；　whispering　voice。
She　stayed　by　instinct　utterly　still；　closing　her　eyes。　　Then　she
felt　his　gaze　for　the　first　time　that　evening　on　her　face；　and
realized　that　he　had　not　dared　to　look　until　her　eyes　were　closed；
for　fear　of　reading　what　was　in　them。　　She　said　very　gently：

〃Please　let　me　go。　　I　think　I'm　going　to　faint。〃

He　relaxed　the　grip　of　his　arms；　she　sank　down　and　stayed　unmoving
on　the　grass。　　After　such　utter　stillness　that　she　hardly　knew
whether　he　were　there　or　not；　she　felt　his　hot　hand　on　her　bare
shoulder。　　Was　it　all　to　begin　again？　　She　shrank　down　lower　still；
and　a　little　moan　escaped　her。　　He　let　her　go　suddenly；　and；　when
at　last　she　looked　up；　was　gone。

She　got　to　her　feet　trembling；　and　moved　quickly　from　under　the
yew…trees。　　She　tried　to　thinktried　to　understand　exactly　what
this　portended　for　her；　for　him；　for　her　lover。　　But　she　could　not。
There　was　around　her　thoughts　the　same　breathless　darkness　that
brooded　over　this　night。　　Ah！　but　to　the　night　had　been　given　that
pale…gold　moon…ray；　to　herself　nothing；　no　faintest　gleam；　as　well
try　to　pierce　below　the　dark　surface　of　that　water！

She　passed　her　hands　over　her　face；　and　hair；　and　dress。　　How　long
had　it　lasted？　　How　long　had　they　been　out　here？　　And　she　began
slowly　moving　back　towards　the　house。　　Thank　God！　　She　had　not
yielded　to　fear　or　pity；　not　uttered　falsities；　not　pretended　she
could　love　him；　and　betrayed　her　heart。　　That　would　have　been　the
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；　t