The Song Of Songs Part 22

"If you were to make inquiries concerning me," he continued, "they'd tell you that despite my age, I know how to subdue women--probably because I never respected them any too highly. But this time--how shall I say?--the affair is in a manner peculiar. I need not conceal it--I cannot sleep. I haven't slept for many nights; which has never happened to me before. Such a state of matters may not continue, and I pledged myself to make an end of the absurdity in some way or other at the death of the old year." He looked at the clock. "I have half an hour still.

I'm expected at a function. In short: it's true, I wanted to seduce you.

That is, for a man of my years, who hasn't anything seductive about him any more, seduce is not the right word. At any rate not here; I'd given my word of honour in my letter. But you _were_ in my power--you need not doubt that an instant."

"I don't," thought Lilly, who was listening to all he said with as little concern as if she were reading it in a thrilling romance. The old fear had not returned. She was still waiting with lazy curiosity for what was to follow.

"If you had showed fight, you would have been defeated all the more certainly. I am somewhat of an adept in such things. But your fainting spell occurred, and gave me an insight into your soul. I had to admit I should never have taken joy in my conquest. You're fine stuff, and I have no use for someone who would pine. Tearful mistresses have always been a horror to me. I love my comfort. I have had experiences I should not like to repeat. So, while you were lying here with my cook to take care of you, I determined I was on the wrong course."

Lilly had a warm sensation of happiness, as if some great act of kindness were being shown her.

"How n.o.ble, how glorious of him," she thought, "to let poor stupid me alone."

She cast a furtive glance at his hands hanging between his knees. They were yellow and long and bony. Had she not been ashamed to, she would have leaned over and kissed them, to show her grat.i.tude.

The next moment she felt almost sorry that so n.o.ble a man should have nothing to do with her any more.

"I took further counsel with myself," he continued, and his voice was still steelier, as if tempered in the fire of his resolve. "The idea was not a new one. It had occurred to me frequently. At first it seemed ridiculous, then it came to be a last resort, from which I would not cut myself off, in case circ.u.mstances warranted--I am taking that way now.

Why shouldn't I? I'm not very ambitious. I'm too well acquainted with the vile machinery of the government. It doesn't pay to oil it any longer than need be with one's sweat and blood. So the idea of quitting doesn't frighten me--of course I shall have to leave service. Perhaps I should at any rate. There are days when I can scarcely keep the saddle because of that cursed rheumatism in my hips."

"Why is he telling me all this?" thought Lilly, not a little flattered that so great and aristocratic a man should discuss such weighty matters with her.

"What exercises me more is that a whole generation stands ready to revenge itself for the robbery perpetrated upon it. To be sure, a strong hand would do some good. We should have to dare something--why not our side as well as the other? Well, what do you say, child?"

Lilly did not reply. She was ashamed that she was so stupid as not to have extracted a single idea from all he said. His words sounded like Hottentotese.

"Well, will you--yes or no?"

"I don't know--I don't understand what you mean," she stammered.

"Good Lord! I've been asking you all this time whether you'll be my wife," said the colonel.

CHAPTER XII

The great moment of her hopes had arrived.

"Is this you, Lilly Czepanek, to whom such things happen? Or, is it someone else, with whom you changed places, some character in one of your brown-backed books, who will cease to live the instant you close it?"

He had not insisted on an answer that New Year's Eve. When she had fallen back in a tremble, incapable of uttering a syllable, incapable of thinking, he had taken her hands in his, and with the smile of a gift-giving G.o.d had begun to talk to her in a softer, gentler tone than she had thought possible in him. He told her to think the matter over; she might take three days, no, a week; he would have patience. But she must promise not to say a word about it to anybody.

She promised willingly, though she could not look him in the face, she was so horribly ashamed.

Then she had run home, and cried and cried without knowing whether from bliss or misery. When the sisters came creeping in at four o'clock in the morning--they had let down the bars of their propriety on New Year's Eve--she was still crying.

On rising, she came to the conclusion he could not possibly have been serious and he would take the first opportunity to recant--perhaps that very day.

She would not complain if he did. On the contrary she would breathe freer, and thank G.o.d for having rid her of the presence of a phantom.

At ten o'clock the bell rang.

A box of roses was delivered, the size and cost of which aroused the disapproving amazement of the sisters, who knew to a penny the price of roses at that season, and reckoned a sum greatly exceeding Lilly's wages for several months.

"I cannot for the life of me see," said the older, "why you don't yield to such a magnificent admirer. With us, of course, it's different. We belong to society, and we cannot give ourselves up. But you, nothing more than a shop girl, with no family to have to consider! Besides, there's no doubt but that shame has its charms. I in your place would make a venture--"

The younger and more sentimental sister opposed the older one's advice.

"The first time it should be from pure love," she said. "You owe it to your own soul, even if you are only a shop girl."

Without coming to an agreement upon this debatable point, they went off to witness the change of guards, which Colonel von Mertzbach, they said, contemplated directing in his own person on New Year's day, and the Colonel, reputed to be a very handsome man pursued by all the marriageable girls in society, was someone they wanted to see.

Lilly patted and kissed the roses of the upper stratum, and would have done the same to all in the box, had there not been so many.

Then she took heart, locked the door, and went to St. Anne's to pay St.

Joseph a visit.

She nearly met the officers hastening to the main guard face to face, but managed in the nick of time to escape down a side street.

High ma.s.s had just concluded and had left an odor of incense and poor people between the arched aisles. A few persons were still praying at the side altars.

Lilly kneeled before her saint, leaned her head against the velvet-covered rail, and tried to lay bare her torn heart in order to obtain counsel and help.

"May I? Shall I? Can I?"

Oh, she longed to. Such a piece of fortune would never come her way again, never, never. To be rich, a baroness, to have all the splendours of the universe laid at her feet. Where outside of fairytales do such marvels occur?

If only there hadn't been one thing about him. But what that one thing was she could not determine.

It wasn't his eyes, no matter how dagger-like they looked. It wasn't the bristly hair on his temples either, nor the grating voice of command.

Now she knew! It was the two dewlaps that fell from chin to throat. Yes, that's what it was. No use trying to dissemble with herself and pretend she did not see them. She shuddered at the mere thought of them.

None the less, the sisters had called him a _handsome_ man, and rich, aristocratic women ran after him. It would be sheer folly to refuse.

And wasn't he the n.o.blest, the best, the most exalted of men? Wasn't he like G.o.d Himself?

She imagined herself living and breathing for him. She would sit at his feet and learn. She would flutter about him like a gay bird. No, she could not imagine a person being gay in his presence. But a person could be poetic. You could languish away into unknown remotenesses, gaze at the evening clouds, present a n.o.ble, pale picture, up to which strange young men would look with consuming pa.s.sion, and be honoured by not a glance in return--she could do this, because her life would be dedicated to the one who was to be her protector, friend, and father, who would elevate her to heights from which otherwise a ray would never have fallen upon her.

"I will, I will!" life within her cried. "Dear St. Joseph, I will!"

St. Joseph raised a threatening finger.

But St. Joseph always raised a threatening finger. He couldn't help himself. That was the way the sculptor had made him. The sight of that finger, however, was vexatious and not calculated to help a poor human being out of a dilemma.

The next day she received a letter from Mr. Pieper, asking her to call at his office on a matter of great importance.

Hot and cold waves s.h.i.+vered up and down her back.