CHAPTER VIII
“I am a part of the part, which at first was the whole.” GOETHE.--Mephistopheles in Faust.
My spirits rose as I went deeper; into the forest; but I could notregain my former elasticity of mind. I found cheerfulness to be likelife itself--not to be created by any argument. Afterwards I learned,that the best way to manage some kinds of pain filled thoughts, is to darethem to do their worst; to let them lie and gnaw at your heart till theyare tired; and you find you still have a residue of life they cannotkill. So, better and worse, I went on, till I came to a little clearingin the forest. In the middle of this clearing stood a long, low hut,built with one end against a single tall cypress, which rose like aspire to the building. A vague misgiving crossed my mind when I saw it;but I must needs go closer, and look through a little half-open door,near the opposite end from the cypress. Window I saw none. On peepingin, and looking towards the further end, I saw a lamp burning, witha dim, reddish flame, and the head of a woman, bent downwards, as ifreading by its light. I could see nothing more for a few moments. Atlength, as my eyes got used to the dimness of the place, I saw that thepart of the rude building near me was used for household purposes;for several rough utensils lay here and there, and a bed stood in thecorner.
An irresistible attraction caused me to enter. The woman never raisedher face, the upper part of which alone I could see distinctly; but, assoon as I stepped within the threshold, she began to read aloud, in alow and not altogether unpleasing voice, from an ancient little volumewhich she held open with one hand on the table upon which stood thelamp. What she read was something like this:
“So, then, as darkness had no beginning, neither will it ever havean end. So, then, is it eternal. The negation of aught else, is itsaffirmation. Where the light cannot come, there abideth the darkness.The light doth but hollow a mine out of the infinite extension of thedarkness. And ever upon the steps of the light treadeth the darkness;yea, springeth in fountains and wells amidst it, from the secretchannels of its mighty sea. Truly, man is but a passing flame, movingunquietly amid the surrounding rest of night; without which he yet couldnot be, and whereof he is in part compounded.”
As I drew nearer, and she read on, she moved a little to turn a leafof the dark old volume, and I saw that her face was sallow and slightlyforbidding. Her forehead was high, and her black eyes repressedly quiet.But she took no notice of me. This end of the cottage, if cottage itcould be called, was destitute of furniture, except the table with thelamp, and the chair on which the woman sat. In one corner was a door,apparently of a cupboard in the wall, but which might lead to a roombeyond. Still the irresistible desire which had made me enter thebuilding urged me: I must open that door, and see what was beyond it.I approached, and laid my hand on the rude latch. Then the woman spoke,but without lifting her head or looking at me: “You had better not openthat door.” This was uttered quite quietly; and she went on with herreading, partly in silence, partly aloud; but both modes seemed equallyintended for herself alone. The prohibition, however, only increased mydesire to see; and as she took no further notice, I gently opened thedoor to its full width, and looked in. At first, I saw nothing worthyof attention. It seemed a common closet, with shelves on each hand, onwhich stood various little necessaries for the humble uses of a cottage.In one corner stood one or two brooms, in another a hatchet and othercommon tools; showing that it was in use every hour of the day forhousehold purposes. But, as I looked, I saw that there were no shelvesat the back, and that an empty space went in further; its terminationappearing to be a faintly glimmering wall or curtain, somewhat less,however, than the width and height of the doorway where I stood. But,as I continued looking, for a few seconds, towards this faintly luminouslimit, my eyes came into true relation with their object. All at once,with such a shiver as when one is suddenly conscious of the presence ofanother in a room where he has, for hours, considered himself alone, Isaw that the seemingly luminous extremity was a sky, as of night, beheldthrough the long perspective of a narrow, dark passage, through what, orbuilt of what, I could not tell. As I gazed, I clearly discerned two orthree stars glimmering faintly in the distant blue. But, suddenly, andas if it had been running fast from a far distance for this very point,and had turned the corner without abating its swiftness, a dark figuresped into and along the passage from the blue opening at the remote end.I started back and shuddered, but kept looking, for I could not help it.On and on it came, with a speedy approach but delayed arrival; till, atlast, through the many gradations of approach, it seemed to come withinthe sphere of myself, rushed up to me, and passed me into the cottage.All I could tell of its appearance was, that it seemed to be a darkhuman figure. Its motion was entirely noiseless, and might be called agliding, were it not that it appeared that of a runner, but with ghostlyfeet. I had moved back yet a little to let him pass me, and looked roundafter him instantly. I could not see him.
“Where is he?” I said, in some alarm, to the woman, who still satreading.
“There, on the floor, behind you,” she said, pointing with her armhalf-outstretched, but not lifting her eyes. I turned and looked, butsaw nothing. Then with a feeling that there was yet something behind me,I looked round over my shoulder; and there, on the ground, lay a blackshadow, the size of a man. It was so dark, that I could see it in thedim light of the lamp, which shone full upon it, apparently withoutthinning at all the intensity of its hue.
“I told you,” said the woman, “you had better not look into thatcloset.”
“What is it?” I said, with a growing sense of horror.
“It is only your shadow that has found you,” she replied. “Everybody’sshadow is ranging up and down looking for him. I believe you call it bya different name in your world: yours has found you, as every person’sis almost certain to do who looks into that closet, especially aftermeeting one in the forest, whom I dare say you have met.”
Here, for the first time, she lifted her head, and looked full at me:her mouth was full of long, white, shining teeth; and I knew that I wasin the house of the ogre. I could not speak, but turned and left thehouse, with the shadow at my heels. “A nice sort of valet to have,” Isaid to myself bitterly, as I stepped into the sunshine, and, lookingover my shoulder, saw that it lay yet blacker in the full blaze of thesunlight. Indeed, only when I stood between it and the sun, was theblackness at all diminished. I was so bewildered--stunned--both by theevent itself and its suddenness, that I could not at all realise tomyself what it would be to have such a constant and strange attendance;but with a dim conviction that my present dislike would soon grow toloathing, I took my dreary way through the wood.