CHAPTER XVI.

  "After reading Silvain's letter I lost as little time as possible inpaying a visit to the village by the sea. I took with me some presentsfor the villagers, who were unaffectedly glad to see me, and notbecause of the gifts I brought for them. There I heard what news theycould impart of the history of the lighthouse since I last visitedthem. The disappointment with respect to the money he expected fromSilvain had rendered the keeper more savage and morose than ever. Foryears after the marriage of his daughter he lived alone on thelighthouse, but within the last twelve months he had sent for a youngman who was related to him distantly, and who was now looking afterthe lights. This young man was deaf and dumb. What kind of comfort thecompanionship of a man so afflicted could be in such a home it isdifficult to say, but the new arrival came in good time, for twomonths afterwards Avicia's father slipped over some rocks in thevicinity of the lighthouse, and so injured himself that he could notrise from his bed. Thus, when Silvain and Avicia presented themselveshe could make no practical resistance to their taking up their abodewith him. However it was, there they were upon my present visit, and Iwent at once to see them.

  "They received me with a genuine demonstration of feeling, and I waspleased to see that they were looking better. Regular food, and thesecure shelter of a roof from which they were not likely to be turnedaway at a moment's notice, doubtless contributed to this improvement.The pressure of a dark terror was, however, still visible in theirfaces, and during my visit I observed Silvain go to the outer galleryat least three or four times, and scan the surrounding sea withanxious eyes. To confirm or dispel the impression I gathered from thisanxious outlook I questioned Silvain.

  "'I am watching for Kristel,' he said.

  "It is scarcely likely he will come to you here,' I said.

  "'He is certain to come to me here,' said Silvain; 'he is now on theroad.'

  "'You know this from your dreams?'

  "'Yes, my dreams assure me of it. What wonder that I dream of thespirit which has been hunting me for years in the person of Kristel. Ithink of nothing else. Waking or sleeping, he is ever before me.'

  "'Should he come, what will you do, Silvain?'

  "'I hardly know; but at all hazards he must, if possible, be preventedfrom effecting an entrance into the lighthouse. It would be the deathof Avicia.'

  "He pronounced the words 'if possible' with so much emphasis that Isaid:

  "'Surely that can be prevented.'

  "'I cannot be on the alert by night as well as by day,' said Silvain.'My dread is that at a time when I am sleeping he will take meunaware. Hush! Avicia is coming up the stairs; do not let her hear usconversing upon a subject which has been the terror of her life. Shedoes not know that I am constantly on the watch.'

  "In this belief he was labouring under a delusion, for Avicia spoke tome privately about it; she was aware of the anxiety which, she said,she was afraid was wearing him away; and indeed, as she made thisallusion, and I glanced at Silvain, who was standing in another partof the lighthouse, I observed what had hitherto escaped me, that hisfeatures were thinner, and that there was a hectic flush upon themwhich, in the light of his tragic story, too surely told a tale of aninward fretting likely to prove fatal. She told me that often in thenight when Silvain was sleeping she would rise softly and go to thegallery, in fear that Kristel was stealthily approaching them.

  "I saw her father. He gazed at me, and did not speak--not that he wasunable, but because it was part of the cunning of his nature. Silvaininformed me that Avicia expected her baby in three weeks from thatday. I had not come empty-handed, and I left behind me welcomeremembrances, promising to come again the following week.

  "I kept my promise. Upon seeing me, a woman of the village ran towardsme, and whispered:

  "'Kristel is here.'

  "I followed the direction of her gaze, which was simply one ofcuriosity, and saw a man standing on the beach, facing the lighthouse.I walked straight up to him, and touched him with my hand. He turned,and I recognised Kristel.

  "I recognised him--yes; but not from any resemblance he bore to theKristel of former days. Had I met him under ordinary circumstances Ishould not have known him. His thin face was covered with hair; hiseyes were sunken and wild; his bony wrists, his long fingers, seemedto be fleshless. I spoke to him, and mentioned my name. He heard me,but did not reply. I begged him to speak, and he remained silent.After his first look at me he turned from me, and stood with his eyesin the direction of the lighthouse. I would not accept his receptionof me; I continued to address him; I asked him upon what errand he hadcome, and why he kept his eyes so fixedly upon the lighthouse. I gavehim information of myself, and said I should be pleased to see him inmy home--with a vague and foolish hope that he would accept theinvitation, and that I might be able to work upon his better nature.And still no word came from him. I did not dare to utter the name ofeither Silvain or Avicia, fearing that I should awake the demon thathad taken possession of his soul.

  "By the time that I had exhausted what I thought it wise and good tosay, I found myself falling into a kind of fascination, produced byhis motionless attitude, and the fixed gaze in his unnaturallybrilliant eyes. It was a bright day, and I knew that my imaginationwas playing me a trick, but I saw clearly with my mind's eye, theouter gallery of the lighthouse, and the figure of Avicia standingthereon, with her hair hanging loose, and a scarlet covering on herhead. Was it a spiritual reflection of what this silent, motionlessman was gazing upon? I shuddered, and passed my hand across my eyes;the vision was gone--but he gazed upon it still.

  "I was compelled at length to leave him standing there upon the beach,and he took no notice of my departure.

  "Others were observing him as well as I, and had watched me withcuriosity during the time I stood by his side. When I was among themthey asked if he had spoken to me.

  "'No,' I replied, 'I could get no word from him.'

  "'Neither has he spoken to us,' they said. 'Not a sound has passed hislips since his arrival.'

  "'When did he arrive?' I inquired.

  "'Yesterday,' they answered, 'and our first thought was that he wouldwant a boat to row to the lighthouse, but he did not ask for it.Surely he must wish to see his brother! There is something strangeabout him, do you not think so? One of our women here insists that heis dumb.'

  "'He must be dumb,' said the woman; 'else why should he not speak?'

  "'There was a jealousy between him and his brother,' said an elderlywoman, 'about Avicia.'

  "'What has that to do with it?' exclaimed the woman who pronounced himdumb. 'Jealousy, like love, does not last for ever. She is not theonly woman in the world, and men have eyes. They must have made uptheir quarrel long ago. Besides, if he _was_ jealous still, whichisn't in the least likely, that would not make him dumb! His tonguewould be all the looser for it.'

  "'More terrible,' thought I, 'is the dread silence of that motionlessman than all the storms of wrath his tongue could utter.'

  "From what the villagers said, I knew that they were in ignorance ofthe hatred which filled Kristel's heart, and I debated within myselfwhat it was best to do. That the simple men of the village would notvoluntarily make themselves parties to any scheme of blind vengeanceon the part of one brother against another I was certain, but I wasnot satisfied that it would be right to give them my whole confidence,and tell them all I knew. At the same time it would not be right toallow them to remain in complete ignorance, for by so doing they mightbe made unwittingly to further Kristel's designs upon his brother'slife. There was a priest in the village, and I went to him, and underthe seal of secrecy revealed something, but not all, of the meaning ofKristel's appearance.

  "'Come with me,' he said.

  "I accompanied him, and once more stood by the side of Kristel. Thepriest addressed him, counselled him, exhorted him, and, like myself,could obtain no word from him. Kindlier speech I never heard, but itmade no impression upon Kristel.

  "'He _must_ be du
mb,' said the priest as we moved away.

  "'Not so,' I said earnestly; 'were he dumb, and unable to hear what issaid to him, he would certainly indicate by some kind of sign thatspeech addressed to him was falling upon ears that were deaf. He ispossessed by a demoniac obduracy, and his apparent indifference is buta part of a fell design to which I should be afraid to give a name.'

  "The priest was impressed by this view of the matter, which could notbut appeal successfully to a man's calm reason.

  "'What can I do?' he asked. 'If a man is determined not to speak, Ihave no power to compel him.'

  "'It is in your power,' I said, 'to prevent bloodshed.'

  "'Bloodshed!' he echoed, in a startled tone.

  "'Nothing less, I fear,' I said. 'Lay an injunction upon the villagersnot to lend that man a boat, and not, under any pretext, to row him tothe lighthouse.'

  "'What dreadful thoughts do your words suggest!' exclaimed the priest.'They alarm and bewilder me.'

  "'I am not at liberty to say more at the present moment,' I said. 'Ishall not leave the village to-day. I myself will see that man'sbrother, and will obtain permission from him to reveal all I know.Meanwhile give not that soul-tossed wretch the opportunity of carryingout a scheme of ruthless vengeance which he has harboured for years.'

  "'Tell me explicitly what you wish me to do.'

  "'I have already told you. That man, with the connivance or assistanceof any person in this village, must not be enabled to get to thelighthouse.'

  "'He shall not,' said the priest.

  "And he mixed with the villagers, men and women, and laid upon themthe injunction I desired. With my mind thus set at ease for at least afew hours, I engaged a couple of boatmen to row me to Silvain. I halfexpected that Kristel would come forward with a request, made if notin speech in dumb show, to be allowed to accompany me, and I hadresolved what action to take; but he made no step towards me. He gaveno indication even of a knowledge of what was taking place within adozen yards of him, although it was not possible that the putting offof the boat from the shore could have escaped his observation.

  "'If he is not deaf and dumb,' said one of the rowers, 'he must havegone clean out of his senses.'

  "'Neither one nor the other,' thought I; 'he is nursing his vengeance,and has decided upon some plan of action.'

  "Silvain and Avicia were on the outer gallery, and when I joined themSilvain drew me aside.

  "'You have news of Kristel,' he said. I nodded, and he continued: 'Iknow without the telling. He is in the village.'

  "'Who informed you?' I asked.

  "'No human,' he replied, with a sad smile. 'I see him standing uponthe beach, looking towards us.'

  "In truth that was a physical impossibility, but I needed no furtherproof of the mysterious insight with which Silvain was gifted. Irelated to him all that had passed between me and Kristel and thepriest, and of the precautions taken to keep from Kristel the means ofreaching the lighthouse.

  "'That will not prevent him from coming, said Silvain; 'he is a fineswimmer. I myself, were I desperately pushed to it, would undertake toswim to the village. You hold to your promise. You hold to yourpromise, Louis, with respect to Avicia?'

  "'It is binding upon me,' I replied; 'my word is given.'

  "'Faithful friend! Neither will my child be left without a counsellor.Louis, I shall never see the face of my child--I shall never feel hislittle hands about my neck!'

  "'Were it not for the tender sympathy I have for you,' I said in atone of reproof, 'I should feel inclined to be angry. Did you notconfess to me in former days that you could not see into the future?And here you are, raising up ghosts to make the present more bitterthan it is. No, no, Silvain. Black as things appear, there are brightyears yet in store for you.'

  "'I cannot help my forebodings, Louis. True, I cannot, nor can anyman, see into the future, but what can I do to turn my brother's hatefrom me?' It was a cry of anguish wrung from his suffering heart. 'Ithink of the days of our childhood, when we strolled in the woods withour arms round each other's necks, I think of the dreams we mapped ofthe future. Running water by the side of which we sat, bending over tosee our faces, and making our lips meet in a shadowed kiss, flowers wepicked in field and meadow, errands of mercy we went upon together,twilight communings, the little sweethearts we had--all these innocentways of childhood rise before me, and fill me with anguish. What can Ido?--what can I do to bring him back to me in brotherly love? Louis, Ihave a fear that I have never whispered to living soul. It is thatAvicia may have twin children, as Kristel and I are, and they shouldgrow up to be as we are now! Would it not be better that they shouldbe born dead, or die young, when their souls are not stained withhatred of each other and with evil thoughts that render existence acurse?'

  "We were alone when he gave expression to his agonised feelings;Avicia had left us to attend to domestic duties. I could say nothingto comfort him; to harp upon one string of intended consolation to aman who is in no mood to accept it becomes, after a time, anoppression. He paced up and down, twining his fingers convulsively,and presently said,

  "'It would be too much, Louis, to ask you to remain with me a littlewhile?'

  "'No,' I replied, 'it would not. Indeed, it was partly in my mind tosuggest it. The crisis you have dreaded for many years has come, andif you wish me to stop with you a day or two I will willingly do so.It may be--I do not know how--that I can be of service to you. Theboatmen are waiting in the boat below. I will write a letter to mywife, and they shall post it, informing her that I shall be absentfrom home perhaps until the end of the week, by which time I hope thecloud will have passed away. No thanks, Silvain; friendship would be apoor and valueless thing if one shrank from a sacrifice so slight.'

  "I wrote my letter, and despatched it by the boatmen. Then we waitedfor events; it was all that it was in our power to do.

  "Avicia was very glad when she heard of my intention to remain withthem a while.

  "'Your companionship will do him good,' she said. 'He has no one butme to talk to, and he speaks of but one subject. If this continueslong he will lose his reason.'

  "The day passed, and night came on. There was but scanty livingaccommodation in the lighthouse, but a mattress was spread for me uponthe floor of the tiny kitchen; and there I was to sleep. Avicia andSilvain wished me to occupy their bed, but I would not have it so.Before retiring to rest, Silvain and I passed two or three hours inconverse; I purposely led the conversation into foreign channels, andwhen I wished him good-night I was rejoiced to perceive that I hadsucceeded for a brief space in diverting his mind from the fears whichweighed so heavily upon him.

  "Nothing occurred during the night to disturb us; I awoke early, andlay waiting for sunrise; but no light came, and when, aroused bySilvain, I left my bed and went to the outer gallery, I was surprisedto see that all surrounding space was wrapt in a thick mist.

  "'A great storm will soon be upon us,' said Silvain.

  "He was right; before noon the storm burst, and the sea was lashedinto fury. It was a relief to see the play of lightning upon the angrywaters, but it was terrible too, and I thought how awful and joyless alone life must be when spent in such a home. This second day seemed asif it would never end, and it was only by my watch that I knew of theapproach of night. With the sounds of the storm in my ears I lay downupon my mattress and fell asleep.

  "I know not at what time of the night I awoke, but with black darknessupon and around me, I found myself sitting up, listening to soundswithout which did not proceed from the conflict of the elements. Atfirst I could not decide whether they were real or but the refrain ofa dream by which I had been disturbed; soon, however, I receivedindisputable evidence that they were not the creations of my fancy.

  "'Kristel! For God's sake, listen to me!'

  "The voice was Silvain's, and the words were uttered in outer space.When I retired to rest I had lain down in my clothes, removing only mycoat, and using it as a covering. I quickly put it on, and lit a lamp,to which a cha
in was attached, by which means it could be held overthe walls of the lighthouse. The lamp was scarcely lighted, whenAvicia, but half dressed, rushed into the little room.

  "'Silvain!' she cried. 'Where is Silvain?'

  "Her eyes wandered round the room, seeking him. At that moment thevoice from without pierced the air.

  "'Kristel! Oh, my brother, listen to me!'

  "I threw my arms round Avicia, and held her fast.

  "'Why do you hold me?' she screamed. 'Are you, too, leagued againstus? Silvain! Silvain!'

  "It needed all my strength to restrain her from rushing out in herwild delirium, perhaps to her destruction. I whispered to herhurriedly that I intended to go to the outer gallery, and that sheshould accompany me; and also that if she truly wished to be ofassistance to her husband she must be calm. She ceased instantly tostruggle, and said in a tone of suppressed excitement,

  "'Come, then.'

  "I did not quit my hold of her, but I used now only one hand, which Iclasped firmly round her wrist, my other being required for thelantern. The next moment we were standing upon the gallery, bendingover. It was pitch dark, and we could see nothing; even the whitespray of the waves, as they dashed against the stone walls, was notvisible to us; but we heard Silvain's voice, at intervals, appealingin frenzied tones to Kristel, who, it needed not the evidence of sightto know, was holding on to the chains and struggling with his brother.How the two came into that awful position was never discovered, and Icould only judge by inference that Kristel, in the dead of this deadlynight, had made his way by some means to the lighthouse, and wasendeavouring to effect an entrance, when Silvain, awakened by hisattempts, had gone out to him, and was instantly seized and draggeddown.

  "So fearful and confused were the minutes that immediately followedthat I have but an indistinct impression of the occurrences of thetime, which will live ever within me as the most awful in my life. Iknow that I never lost my grasp of Avicia, and that but for me shewould have flung herself over the walls; I know that the brothers wereengaged in a struggle for life and death, and that Silvain continuedto make the most pathetic appeals to Kristel to listen to him, and notto stain his soul with blood; I know that in those appeals there werethe tenderest references to their boyhood's days, to the love whichhad existed between them, each for the other, to trivial incidents intheir childhood, to their mother who worshipped them and was nowlooking down upon them, to the hopes in which they had indulged of alife of harmony and affection; I know that it struck me then as mostterrible that during the whole of the struggle no word issued fromKristel's lips; I know that there were heartrending appeals fromAvicia to Kristel to spare her husband, and that there were tendercries from her to Silvain, and from Silvain to her; I know that,finding a loose chain on the gallery, I lowered it to the combatants,and called out to Silvain--foolishly enough, in so far as he couldavail himself of it--to release himself from his brother's arms andseize it, and that I and Avicia would draw him up to safety; I knowthat in one vivid flash of lightning I saw the struggling forms andthe beautiful white spray of the waves; I know that Silvain's voicegrew fainter and fainter until it was heard no more; I know that therewas the sound of a heavy body or bodies falling into the sea, that ashriek of woe and despair clove my heart like a knife, and that Avicialay in my arms moaning and trembling. I bore her tenderly into herroom, and laid her on her bed.

  "The storm ceased; no sound was heard without. The rising sun filledthe eastern horizon with loveliest hues of saffron and crimson. Thesea was calm; there was no trace of tempest and human agony. By thattime Avicia was a mother, and lay with her babes pressed to her bosom.Silvain's fear was realised: he was the dead father of twin brothers.

  "The assistant whom Avicia's father had engaged rowed me to thevillage, and there I enlisted the services of a woman, who accompaniedme back to the lighthouse, and attended to Avicia. The mother livedbut two days after the birth of her babes. Until her last hour she wasdelirious, but then she recovered her senses and recognised me.

  "'My dear Silvain told me,' she said, in a weak, faint voice, 'thatyou would be a friend to our children. Bless the few moments remainingto me by assuring me that you will not desert them.'

  "I gave her the assurance for which she yearned, and she desired me tocall them by the names of Eric and Emilius. It rejoiced me that shepassed away in peace; strange as it may seem, it was an inexpressiblerelief to her bruised heart that the long agony was over. Her lastwords were,

  "'I trust you. God will reward you!'

  "And so, with her nerveless hand in mine, her spirit went out to herlover and husband.

  "We buried her in the village churchyard, and the day was observed asa day of mourning in that village by the sea.

  "I thought I could not do better than leave the twin babes for a timein the charge of the woman I had engaged, and it occurred to me thatit might not be unprofitable to have some inquiries and investigationmade with respect to the inheritance left by their grandfather to hissons Kristel and Silvain. I placed the matter in the hands of a shrewdlawyer, and he was enabled to recover a portion of what was due totheir father. This was a great satisfaction to me, as it to someextent provided for the future of Eric and Emilius, and supplied thewherewithal for their education. It was my intention, when theyarrived at a certain age, to bring them to my home in Nerac, and treatthem as children of my own, but a difficulty cropped up for which Iwas not prepared and which I could not surmount. Avicia's father,learning that I had recovered a portion of Silvain's inheritance,demanded from me an account of it, and asserted his rights as thenatural guardian of his grandchildren. There was no gainsaying thedemand, and I was compelled reluctantly to leave Eric and Emilius inhis charge. I succeeded, however, in prevailing upon him to allow themto pay me regular visits of long duration, so that a close intimacy ofaffectionate friendship has been established between them and themembers of my family. Here ends my story--a strange and eventful one,you will admit. I often think of it in wonder, and this is the firsttime a full recital of it has passed my lips."