The Lady of the Shroud
RUPERT'S JOURNAL--_Continued_.
_June_ 24, 1907.
Last night I got from my Lady a similar message to the last, anddelivered in a similar way. This time, however, our meeting was to be onthe leads of the Keep.
I dressed myself very carefully before going on this adventure, lest byany chance of household concern, any of the servants should see me; forif this should happen, Aunt Janet would be sure to hear of it, whichwould give rise to endless surmises and questionings--a thing I was farfrom desiring.
I confess that in thinking the matter over during the time I was makingmy hurried preparations I was at a loss to understand how any human body,even though it be of the dead, could go or be conveyed to such a placewithout some sort of assistance, or, at least, collusion, on the part ofsome of the inmates. At the visit to the Flagstaff circumstances weredifferent. This spot was actually outside the Castle, and in order toreach it I myself had to leave the Castle privately, and from the gardenascend to the ramparts. But here was no such possibility. The Keep wasan _imperium in imperio_. It stood within the Castle, though separatedfrom it, and it had its own defences against intrusion. The roof of itwas, so far as I knew, as little approachable as the magazine.
The difficulty did not, however, trouble me beyond a mere passingthought. In the joy of the coming meeting and the longing rapture at themere thought of it, all difficulties disappeared. Love makes its ownfaith, and I never doubted that my Lady would be waiting for me at theplace designated. When I had passed through the little arched passages,and up the doubly-grated stairways contrived in the massiveness of thewalls, I let myself out on the leads. It was well that as yet the timeswere sufficiently peaceful not to necessitate guards or sentries at allsuch points.
There, in a dim corner where the moonlight and the passing clouds threwdeep shadows, I saw her, clothed as ever in her shroud. Why, I know not.I felt somehow that the situation was even more serious than ever. But Iwas steeled to whatever might come. My mind had been already made up.To carry out my resolve to win the woman I loved I was ready to facedeath. But now, after we had for a few brief moments held each other inour arms, I was willing to accept death--or more than death. Now, morethan before, was she sweet and dear to me. Whatever qualms there mighthave been at the beginning of our love-making, or during the progress ofit, did not now exist. We had exchanged vows and confidences, andacknowledged our loves. What, then, could there be of distrust, or evendoubt, that the present might not set at naught? But even had there beensuch doubts or qualms, they must have disappeared in the ardour of ourmutual embrace. I was by now mad for her, and was content to be so mad.When she had breath to speak after the strictness of our embrace, shesaid:
"I have come to warn you to be more than ever careful." It was, Iconfess, a pang to me, who thought only of love, to hear that anythingelse should have been the initiative power of her coming, even though ithad been her concern for my own safety. I could not but notice thebitter note of chagrin in my voice as I answered:
"It was for love's sake that _I_ came." She, too, evidently felt theundercurrent of pain, for she said quickly:
"Ah, dearest, I, too, came for love's sake. It is because I love youthat I am so anxious about you. What would the world--ay, or heaven--beto me without you?"
There was such earnest truth in her tone that the sense and realizationof my own harshness smote me. In the presence of such love as this evena lover's selfishness must become abashed. I could not express myself inwords, so simply raised her slim hand in mine and kissed it. As it laywarm in my own I could not but notice, as well as its fineness, itsstrength and the firmness of its clasp. Its warmth and fervour struckinto my heart--and my brain. Thereupon I poured out to her once more mylove for her, she listening all afire. When passion had had its say, thecalmer emotions had opportunity of expression. When I was satisfiedafresh of her affection, I began to value her care for my safety, and soI went back to the subject. Her very insistence, based on personalaffection, gave me more solid ground for fear. In the moment of lovetransports I had forgotten, or did not think, of what wonderful power orknowledge she must have to be able to move in such strange ways as shedid. Why, at this very moment she was within my own gates. Locks andbars, even the very seal of death itself, seemed unable to make for her aprison-house. With such freedom of action and movement, going when shewould into secret places, what might she not know that was known toothers? How could anyone keep secret from such an one even an illintent? Such thoughts, such surmises, had often flashed through my mindin moments of excitement rather than of reflection, but never long enoughto become fixed into belief. But yet the consequences, the convictions,of them were with me, though unconsciously, though the thoughtsthemselves were perhaps forgotten or withered before development.
"And you?" I asked her earnestly. "What about danger to you?" Shesmiled, her little pearl-white teeth gleaming in the moonlight, as shespoke:
"There is no danger for me. I am safe. I am the safest person, perhapsthe only safe person, in all this land." The full significance of herwords did not seem to come to me all at once. Some base forunderstanding such an assertion seemed to be wanting. It was not that Idid not trust or believe her, but that I thought she might be mistaken.I wanted to reassure myself, so in my distress I asked unthinkingly:
"How the safest? What is your protection?" For several moments thatspun themselves out endlessly she looked me straight in the face, thestars in her eyes seeming to glow like fire; then, lowering her head, shetook a fold of her shroud and held it up to me.
"This!"
The meaning was complete and understandable now. I could not speak atonce for the wave of emotion which choked me. I dropped on my knees, andtaking her in my arms, held her close to me. She saw that I was moved,and tenderly stroked my hair, and with delicate touch pressed down myhead on her bosom, as a mother might have done to comfort a frightenedchild.
Presently we got back to the realities of life again. I murmured:
"Your safety, your life, your happiness are all-in-all to me. When willyou let them be my care?" She trembled in my arms, nestling even closerto me. Her own arms seemed to quiver with delight as she said:
"Would you indeed like me to be always with you? To me it would be ahappiness unspeakable; and to you, what would it be?"
I thought that she wished to hear me speak my love to her, and that,woman-like, she had led me to the utterance, and so I spoke again of thepassion that now raged in me, she listening eagerly as we strained eachother tight in our arms. At last there came a pause, a long, long pause,and our hearts beat consciously in unison as we stood together.Presently she said in a sweet, low, intense whisper, as soft as thesighing of summer wind:
"It shall be as you wish; but oh, my dear, you will have to first gothrough an ordeal which may try you terribly! Do not ask me anything!You must not ask, because I may not answer, and it would be pain to me todeny you anything. Marriage with such an one as I am has its own ritual,which may not be foregone. It may . . . " I broke passionately into herspeaking:
"There is no ritual that I fear, so long as it be that it is for yourgood, and your lasting happiness. And if the end of it be that I maycall you mine, there is no horror in life or death that I shall notgladly face. Dear, I ask you nothing. I am content to leave myself inyour hands. You shall advise me when the time comes, and I shall besatisfied, content to obey. Content! It is but a poor word to expresswhat I long for! I shall shirk nothing which may come to me from this orany other world, so long as it is to make you mine!" Once again hermurmured happiness was music to my ears:
"Oh, how you love me! how you love me, dear, dear!" She took me in herarms, and for a few seconds we hung together. Suddenly she tore herselfapart from me, and stood drawn up to the full height, with a dignity Icannot describe or express. Her voice had a new dominance, as with firmutterance and in staccato manner
she said:
"Rupert Sent Leger, before we go a step further I must say something toyou, ask you something, and I charge you, on your most sacred honour andbelief, to answer me truly. Do you believe me to be one of those unhappybeings who may not die, but have to live in shameful existence betweenearth and the nether world, and whose hellish mission is to destroy, bodyand soul, those who love them till they fall to their level? You are agentleman, and a brave one. I have found you fearless. Answer me insternest truth, no matter what the issue may be!"
She stood there in the glamorous moonlight with a commanding dignitywhich seemed more than human. In that mystic light her white shroudseemed diaphanous, and she appeared like a spirit of power. What was Ito say? How could I admit to such a being that I had actually had atmoments, if not a belief, a passing doubt? It was a conviction with methat if I spoke wrongly I should lose her for ever. I was in a desperatestrait. In such a case there is but one solid ground which one may reston--the Truth.
I really felt I was between the devil and the deep sea. There was noavoiding the issue, and so, out of this all-embracing, all-compellingconviction of truth, I spoke.
For a fleeting moment I felt that my tone was truculent, and almosthesitated; but as I saw no anger or indignation on my Lady's face, butrather an eager approval, I was reassured. A woman, after all, is gladto see a man strong, for all belief in him must be based on that.
"I shall speak the truth. Remember that I have no wish to hurt yourfeelings, but as you conjure me by my honour, you must forgive me if Ipain. It is true that I had at first--ay, and later, when I came tothink matters over after you had gone, when reason came to the aid ofimpression--a passing belief that you are a Vampire. How can I fail tohave, even now, though I love you with all my soul, though I have heldyou in my arms and kissed you on the mouth, a doubt, when all theevidences seem to point to one thing? Remember that I have only seen youat night, except that bitter moment when, in the broad noonday of theupper world, I saw you, clad as ever in a shroud, lying seemingly dead ina tomb in the crypt of St. Sava's Church . . . But let that pass. Suchbelief as I have is all in you. Be you woman or Vampire, it is all thesame to me. It is _you_ whom I love! Should it be that you are--you arenot woman, which I cannot believe, then it will be my glory to break yourfetters, to open your prison, and set you free. To that I consecrate mylife." For a few seconds I stood silent, vibrating with the passionwhich had been awakened in me. She had by now lost the measure of herhaughty isolation, and had softened into womanhood again. It was reallylike a realization of the old theme of Pygmalion's statue. It was withrather a pleading than a commanding voice that she said:
"And shall you always be true to me?"
"Always--so help me, God!" I answered, and I felt that there could be nolack of conviction in my voice.
Indeed, there was no cause for such lack. She also stood for a littlewhile stone-still, and I was beginning to expand to the rapture which wasin store for me when she should take me again in her arms.
But there was no such moment of softness. All at once she started as ifshe had suddenly wakened from a dream, and on the spur of the momentsaid:
"Now go, go!" I felt the conviction of necessity to obey, and turned atonce. As I moved towards the door by which I had entered, I asked:
"When shall I see you again?"
"Soon!" came her answer. "I shall let you know soon--when and where.Oh, go, go!" She almost pushed me from her.
When I had passed through the low doorway and locked and barred it behindme, I felt a pang that I should have had to shut her out like that; but Ifeared lest there should arise some embarrassing suspicion if the doorshould be found open. Later came the comforting thought that, as she hadgot to the roof though the door had been shut, she would be able to getaway by the same means. She had evidently knowledge of some secret wayinto the Castle. The alternative was that she must have somesupernatural quality or faculty which gave her strange powers. I did notwish to pursue that train of thought, and so, after an effort, shut itout from my mind.
When I got back to my room I locked the door behind me, and went to sleepin the dark. I did not want light just then--could not bear it.
This morning I woke, a little later than usual, with a kind ofapprehension which I could not at once understand. Presently, however,when my faculties became fully awake and in working order, I realizedthat I feared, half expected, that Aunt Janet would come to me in a worsestate of alarm than ever apropos of some new Second-Sight experience ofmore than usual ferocity.
But, strange to say, I had no such visit. Later on in the morning, when,after breakfast, we walked together through the garden, I asked her howshe had slept, and if she had dreamt. She answered me that she had sleptwithout waking, and if she had had any dreams, they must have beenpleasant ones, for she did not remember them. "And you know, Rupert,"she added, "that if there be anything bad or fearsome or warning indreams, I always remember them."
Later still, when I was by myself on the cliff beyond the creek, I couldnot help commenting on the absence of her power of Second Sight on theoccasion. Surely, if ever there was a time when she might have had causeof apprehension, it might well have been when I asked the Lady whom shedid not know to marry me--the Lady of whose identity I knew nothing, evenwhose name I did not know--whom I loved with all my heart and soul--myLady of the Shroud.
I have lost faith in Second Sight.