CHAPTER XXII
"OH! HEART OF STONE, YET FLESH TO ALL SAVE ME"
This is exactly what happened after I regained the house. I wentupstairs for a few minutes to arrange my hair and bathe my eyes. ThenI walked straight down to the drawing-room, and I told myself that Iwas prepared for anything that might take place.
Father Adrian did not hear me enter, so I had the advantage at theonset of taking him by surprise. He was standing in the centre ofthe hearthrug, with his arms folded and his eyes cast down upon theground. His eyebrows almost met in a black frown, and a curious greypallor had spread itself over his face. When I entered, noiselesslymoving the curtains, from the outer chamber, he was muttering tohimself, and I strained my hearing to catch the meaning of his words.
"To-night must end it!" I heard him say. "She herself shall decide.Greater men have travelled the path before me! As for him, my pityhas grown faint! It is the will of the Church! I myself am but theinstrument. He stands between the Church and her rights! Between meand--her!"
His cheeks flushed, and his expression suddenly changed. He whispereda name! It was mine! His eyes were soft, and his lips were parted. Thepriest had vanished. His face was human and manly. I saw it, but myheart was as cold as steel.
"Father Adrian," I said quietly, "I am here."
He started, and looked towards me. If my heart could have beensoftened even to pity, it would have been softened by that look. Buta woman's great selfishness was upon me! The man I loved was in somesort of danger at his hands. There was no room in my heart for anyother thought. I was adamant.
He was silent for a moment, then he faced me steadily, and spoke. "Soyou have learned to love this Englishman, this De Vaux, the son of oldMartin de Vaux! Answer me simply, Yes or No!"
"I have!"
I did not hesitate. What need was there for hesitation? I answered himdefiantly, and without faltering.
"You will never marry him! You will not even become his mistress!"
I made no answer at first; I laughed! that was all.
"Who will prevent me?"
"I shall!"
"How?"
"The means are ready to my hand!"
My heart sank, but I forced a smile. "What are they?"
He considered a moment. "I can strip Paul de Vaux of every acreand every penny he possesses! I can break his mother's heart! I canproclaim his father a murderer!"
"I do not understand! I do not believe!"
The words left me boldly enough, but there was a lump in my throat,and my heart was sick.
"Listen!" He drew a small gold crucifix from his breast, and solemnlykissed it. Then, holding it in his hand, he repeated,--
"I can beggar Paul de Vaux by my proven word. I can take from himeverything precious in life! I can take from him his name and hishonours! I can break his mother's heart! I can proclaim his father amurderer! All this I can and will do, save you listen to me!"
He kissed the crucifix, and replaced it in his inner pocket. I hadbegun to tremble. The stamp of truth was upon his words. Still I triedto face him boldly.
"Even if this is so, what has it to do with me?" I cried.
"You know!" he answered. "In your heart you know! Yet, if youwill--listen!" he continued, in a low tone. "You love Paul de Vaux!"
"It is true!"
"And you believe that he loves you?"
"I do!"
"Listen, then! Three nights ago I lifted that curtain, by the side ofone who has left you for ever, and I saw you in his arms. I followedhim out of the house; I walked by his side to Vaux Abbey, and I toldhim what I have told you. I wasted no time in idle threats. I told himwhat power was mine, and I said 'Choose!' He was silent!"
"Choose between what?" I interrupted.
"I bade him swear that he would never willingly look upon your faceagain, or prepare himself to face all the evils which it was in mypower to bring upon him."
"And he?"
"He asked for time--for a week!"
A storm of anger was suddenly stirred up within me. I turned upon himwith flashing eyes and quivering lips. Discretion and restraint weregone; I was like a tigress. I lacked only the power to kill.
"And by what right did you dare to thrust yourself between us?" Icried. "What have I to do with you, or you with me?"
He held up his hands for a moment, as though to shut out the sight ofmy face, ablaze with scorn and hatred. There was a short silence. Thenhe spoke in a low tone, vibrating with intensity of feeling.
"You know! In your heart you know!" he said. "Into my life has comethe greatest humiliation which can befall such as I am! In sorrow andbitterness it has eaten itself into my heart. I am accursed in my ownsight, and in the sight of God!"
I mocked at him. "I am not your confessor!" I laughed. "Go and tellyour sins to those of your own order! I am a woman and you are apriest! Why do you look at me with that light in your eyes? Am I aprayer-book? Is there anything saintly in my face, that you shouldkeep your eyes fixed upon it so steadily?"
I had hoped that my words would madden him, and he would lose hisself-control. To my surprise, they had but little effect. He seemedscarcely to have heard.
"What have you to do with me, or I with you?" he repeated, in a voicewhich was rapidly gaining strength and passion. "God knows! Yet assurely as we both live, our lots are intertwined the one with theother."
"A godly priest!" I laughed. "What have you to do with me? Whatof your vows? Oh, how dare you try to play the lover with me! Youhypocrite!"
He shrank back as though in pain. I laughed outright, glad that I hadmade him feel.
"Adrea!" he said slowly. "I was never a hypocrite to you. In yourpresence I have never breathed a word of my religion. Think for amoment of those days at Cruta. Did I not refuse to confess you? Why?You know! Because of those long, dreamy days we spent together, not aspriest and penitent, but as man and woman. Do you remember them--thecliffs, with their giant shadows standing out across the blue watersof the harbour; the hollows, where we sat amongst the perfumed wildflowers, gazing across the sea, and watching the white sails in thedistance; the nights, with their white moonlight and silent grandeur!Ay, Adrea! look me in the face, if you can, and tell me that you haveforgotten them! You cannot! You dare not! It was you who brought methose books of wild, passionate poetry whose music entered into myvery soul! It was you who tempted me with soft words, with your music,with your beauty, into that world of sense which holds me prisoner forever. What I once was, I can never be again! It is you who worked thechange--you who awoke my man's heart, and set it beating for everat your touch, at your movements, at the sight of you. It is you whotaught me how to love--who opened to me the rose-covered gates ofhell! There is no drawing back! You, who have dragged me down, shallshare my fall with me, for better or for worse! You shall not escape!No other man shall have you! I have paid the price, and I will haveyou!"
I wrenched myself free from the arms which were closing around me, andstood trembling before him.
"Fool!" I cried. "You have dared to think of me like that because Ichose to make use of you at Cruta! Make use of you! Yes, that is whatI did! I wanted to escape! You and she were the only ones who couldhelp me! Save for that, I had never wasted a moment upon you. I neverthought of you as a man; you were only a priest. I never wished to seeyou again! You are in my way now; you stand between me and the man Ilove! I hate you!"
His dark eyes were lit up with a sudden fire and a deep flush stainedhis cheeks. For the first time I seemed to see the man in him as wellas the priest, and I saw that he was handsome. It did not interest me;I noticed it only as an incident.
"I do not believe it!" he exclaimed. "You are not so false as youwould have me believe, Adrea!"
His hand was on my wrist, and his dark eyes, strangely softened, werefixed pleadingly upon mine. Something in his manner, even in his tone,seemed to remind me of Paul. I was magnetized! For a moment I couldnot move, and during that moment his hands closed upon mine.
"Adrea, is su
ch a love as I can offer you worth nothing? What did youtell me once was your life's ideal? Was it not the love of a strong,true man, always faithful, always loving? No one could love you moretenderly than I, no one could be more faithful. Until I saw you, nowoman's face had dwelt in my thoughts for a single instant. In myheart you reign alone, Adrea! No one has been there before--no onewill come after! Such as it is, it is a kingdom of your own!"
"I do not understand you," I said slowly, withdrawing my hands. "Youtalk to me of a man's love, a man's faithfulness! What do you know ofit? You are a priest!"
He threw up his hands with a sudden cry of agony. His face was whiteand blanched.
"Do I not know it?" he exclaimed in a low, fierce tone. "Do you thinkI yielded easily to the poisoned web you have woven around me? Thehorror of it all has darkened my days, and made hideous my nights. Andyet you can taunt me with it--you, for whom I yield up conscience andfuture--you, for whom I give my soul! No other man could love as Ilove, Adrea!"
I looked him straight in the face and I did not spare him. What wasthe use? The truth was best!
"It is folly!" I said. "If your religion is worth anything to you, letit help you now! Let it teach you to forget me! Go away from here, andleave unharmed the man I love. If you do not, I shall hate you!"
He caught hold of my dress. He was on his knees before me--a bent,imploring figure.
"Too late! too late!" he cried. "My religion has gone! When love foryou crept into my heart, I became worse than a heretic. It was sin,and the sin has spread. Oh! have mercy upon me, Adrea, have mercy uponme! Just a little of your love. It may not be much at first, but itwill grow. Adrea, you must try--you shall try!"
I shook my gown from his trembling fingers, and looked down upon himwith contempt in my heart, and contempt in my face. The flickeringfirelight cast a faint glow upon his blanched, wan features, andtheir utter humility filled me with an unreasoning and unreasonableloathing. I did not try to soften my words. I spoke out just as Ifelt, and watched him rise slowly to his feet, like a hunted andstricken animal, without a pitying word or glance. As he rose upright,his head dropped. He did not look at me; he did not speak a singleword. He walked slowly to the door with steps that faltered a little,and walked out of the room, and out of the house.
I watched him down the avenue, wondering at his strange silence. Ithad a curious effect upon me. I would rather have heard threats--evena torrent of anger. There was something curiously ominous in thatslow, wordless exit. I watched him uneasily, full of dim, shapelessfears.
Outside the gate he paused in the middle of the road. To the leftwas the monastery where he had stayed; to the right was Vaux Abbey. Iheard my heart beat while he paused, and my face was pressed againstthe window. For nearly a minute he stood quite still, with downcasthead, thinking. Then he turned deliberately to the right, and set hisface towards Vaux Abbey.
* * * * *
That was early in the evening yesterday--twenty-four hours ago. Sincethen not a soul has been near the house. Early this morning I sawFather Adrian coming along the road from Vaux. I ran upstairs, andlocked myself in my room, after forbidding the servants to let himenter. From the windows I watched him. To my surprise he nevereven glanced in. He walked past the gates, and took the road to themonastery. I saw him slowly ascend the hill and vanish out of sightin the darkening twilight. Once, just before he reached the summit, hepaused and looked steadily down here. I could not see his face, butI saw him raise his right hand for a moment toward the sky. Then heturned round and pursued his way.
* * * * *
If some one does not come to me soon, I shall go mad. Another hour haspassed. My mind is made up; I shall go to Vaux Abbey.