BOOK VI: THE PURSUIT IN THE FOREST
RUPERT'S JOURNAL--_Continued_.
_July_ 3, 1907.
There is no anodyne but work to pain of the heart; and my pain is all ofthe heart. I sometimes feel that it is rather hard that with so much tomake me happy I cannot know happiness. How can I be happy when my wife,whom I fondly love, and who I know loves me, is suffering in horror andloneliness of a kind which is almost beyond human belief? However, whatis my loss is my country's gain, for the Land of the Blue Mountains is mycountry now, despite the fact that I am still a loyal subject of goodKing Edward. Uncle Roger took care of that when he said I should havethe consent of the Privy Council before I might be naturalized anywhereelse.
When I got home yesterday morning I naturally could not sleep. Theevents of the night and the bitter disappointment that followed myexciting joy made such a thing impossible. When I drew the curtain overthe window, the reflection of the sunrise was just beginning to tinge thehigh-sailing clouds in front of me. I laid down and tried to rest, butwithout avail. However, I schooled myself to lie still, and at last, ifI did not sleep, was at least quiescent.
Disturbed by a gentle tap at the door, I sprang up at once and threw on adressing gown. Outside, when I opened the door, was Aunt Janet. She washolding a lighted candle in her hand, for though it was getting light inthe open, the passages were still dark. When she saw me she seemed tobreathe more freely, and asked if she might come in.
Whilst she sat on the edge of my bed, in her old-time way, she said in ahushed voice:
"Oh, laddie, laddie, I trust yer burden is no too heavy to bear."
"My burden! What on earth do you mean, Aunt Janet?" I said in reply. Idid not wish to commit myself by a definite answer, for it was evidentthat she had been dreaming or Second Sighting again. She replied withthe grim seriousness usual to her when she touched on occult matters:
"I saw your hairt bleeding, laddie. I kent it was yours, though how Ikent it I don't know. It lay on a stone floor in the dark, save for adim blue light such as corpse-lights are. On it was placed a great book,and close around were scattered many strange things, amongst them twocrowns o' flowers--the one bound wi' silver, the other wi' gold. Therewas also a golden cup, like a chalice, o'erturned. The red wine trickledfrom it an' mingled wi' yer hairt's bluid; for on the great book was somevast dim weight wrapped up in black, and on it stepped in turn many menall swathed in black. An' as the weight of each came on it the bluidgushed out afresh. And oh, yer puir hairt, my laddie, was quick andleaping, so that at every beat it raised the black-clad weight! An' yetthat was not all, for hard by stood a tall imperial shape o' a woman, allarrayed in white, wi' a great veil o' finest lace worn o'er a shrood.An' she was whiter than the snow, an' fairer than the morn for beauty;though a dark woman she was, wi' hair like the raven, an' eyes black asthe sea at nicht, an' there was stars in them. An' at each beat o' yerpuir bleeding hairt she wrung her white hands, an' the manin' o' hersweet voice rent my hairt in twain. Oh, laddie, laddie! what does itmean?"
I managed to murmur: "I'm sure I don't know, Aunt Janet. I suppose itwas all a dream!"
"A dream it was, my dear. A dream or a veesion, whilka matters nane, fora' such are warnin's sent frae God . . . " Suddenly she said in adifferent voice:
"Laddie, hae ye been fause to any lassie? I'm no blamin' ye. For ye menare different frae us women, an' yer regard on recht and wrang differsfrom oors. But oh, laddie, a woman's tears fa' heavy when her hairt isfor sair wi' the yieldin' to fause words. 'Tis a heavy burden for onyman to carry wi' him as he goes, an' may well cause pain to ithers thathe fain would spare." She stopped, and in dead silence waited for me tospeak. I thought it would be best to set her poor loving heart at rest,and as I could not divulge my special secret, spoke in general terms:
"Aunt Janet, I am a man, and have led a man's life, such as it is. But Ican tell you, who have always loved me and taught me to be true, that inall the world there is no woman who must weep for any falsity of mine.If close there be any who, sleeping or waking, in dreams or visions or inreality, weeps because of me, it is surely not for my doing, but becauseof something outside me. It may be that her heart is sore because I mustsuffer, as all men must in some degree; but she does not weep for orthrough any act of mine."
She sighed happily at my assurance, and looked up through her tears, forshe was much moved; and after tenderly kissing my forehead and blessingme, stole away. She was more sweet and tender than I have words to say,and the only regret that I have in all that is gone is that I have notbeen able to bring my wife to her, and let her share in the love she hasfor me. But that, too, will come, please God!
In the morning I sent a message to Rooke at Otranto, instructing him bycode to bring the yacht to Vissarion in the coming night.
All day I spent in going about amongst the mountaineers, drilling themand looking after their arms. I _could_ not stay still. My only chanceof peace was to work, my only chance of sleep to tire myself out.Unhappily, I am very strong, so even when I came home at dark I was quitefresh. However, I found a cable message from Rooke that the yacht wouldarrive at midnight.
There was no need to summon the mountaineers, as the men in the Castlewould be sufficient to make preparations for the yacht's coming.
_Later_.
The yacht has come. At half-past eleven the lookout signalled that asteamer without lights was creeping in towards the Creek. I ran out tothe Flagstaff, and saw her steal in like a ghost. She is painted asteely blue-grey, and it is almost impossible to see her at any distance.She certainly goes wonderfully. Although there was not enough throb fromthe engines to mar the absolute stillness, she came on at a fine speed,and within a few minutes was close to the boom. I had only time to rundown to give orders to draw back the boom when she glided in and stoppeddead at the harbour wall. Rooke steered her himself, and he says henever was on a boat that so well or so quickly answered her helm. She iscertainly a beauty, and so far as I can see at night perfect in everydetail. I promise myself a few pleasant hours over her in the daylight.The men seem a splendid lot.
But I do not feel sleepy; I despair of sleep to-night. But work demandsthat I be fit for whatever may come, and so I shall try to sleep--torest, at any rate.