the groves, began to stir before me and to put on the lineaments of
life and wear a face of awful joy. The
sunshine struck upon the
hills, strong as a
hammer on the anvil, and the hills shook; the
earth, under that
vigorous insulation, yielded up heady scents; the
woods smouldered in the blaze. I felt the
thrill of travail and
delight run through the earth. Something elemental, something
rude,
violent, and
savage, in the love that sang in my heart, was
like a key to nature's secrets; and the very stones that rattled
under my feet appeared alive and friendly. Olalla! Her touch had
quickened, and renewed, and strung me up to the old pitch of
concert with the
rugged earth, to a swelling of the soul that men
learn to forget in their
polite assemblies. Love burned in me like
rage;
tenderness waxed
fierce; I hated, I adored, I pitied, I
revered her with
ecstasy. She seemed the link that bound me in
with dead things on the one hand, and with our pure and pitying God
upon the other: a thing
brutal and
divine, and akin at once to the
innocence and to the unbridled forces of the earth.
My head thus reeling, I came into the
courtyard of the residencia,
and the sight of the mother struck me like a
revelation. She sat
there, all sloth and
contentment, blinking under the strong
sunshine, branded with a
passiveenjoyment, a creature set quite
apart, before whom my
ardour fell away like a thing
ashamed. I
stopped a moment, and, commanding such
shaken tones as I was able,
said a word or two. She looked at me with her unfathomable
kindness; her voice in reply sounded
vaguely out of the realm of
peace in which she slumbered, and there fell on my mind, for the
first time, a sense of respect for one so
uniformlyinnocent and
happy, and I passed on in a kind of wonder at myself, that I should
be so much disquieted.
On my table there lay a piece of the same yellow paper I had seen
in the north room; it was written on with pencil in the same hand,
Olalla's hand, and I picked it up with a sudden sinking of alarm,
and read, 'If you have any kindness for Olalla, if you have any
chivalry for a creature
sorelywrought, go from here to-day; in
pity, in honour, for the sake of Him who died, I supplicate that
you shall go.' I looked at this
awhile in mere stupidity, then I
began to
awaken to a
weariness and
horror of life; the
sunshinedarkened outside on the bare hills, and I began to shake like a man
in
terror. The
vacancy thus suddenly opened in my life unmanned me
like a
physical void. It was not my heart, it was not my
happiness, it was life itself that was involved. I could not lose
her. I said so, and stood repeating it. And then, like one in a
dream, I moved to the window, put forth my hand to open the
casement, and
thrust it through the pane. The blood spurted from
my wrist; and with an
instantaneous quietude and command of myself,
I pressed my thumb on the little leaping
fountain, and reflected
what to do. In that empty room there was nothing to my purpose; I
felt, besides, that I required
assistance. There shot into my mind
a hope that Olalla herself might be my
helper, and I turned and
went down stairs, still keeping my thumb upon the wound.
There was no sign of either Olalla or Felipe, and I addressed
myself to the
recess, whither the Senora had now drawn quite back
and sat dozing close before the fire, for no degree of heat
appeared too much for her.
'Pardon me,' said I, 'if I
disturb you, but I must apply to you for
help.'
She looked up
sleepily and asked me what it was, and with the very
words I thought she drew in her
breath with a widening of the
nostrils and seemed to come suddenly and fully alive.
'I have cut myself,' I said, 'and rather badly. See!' And I held
out my two hands from which the blood was oozing and dripping.
Her great eyes opened wide, the pupils
shrank into points; a veil
seemed to fall from her face, and leave it
sharplyexpressive and
yet inscrutable. And as I still stood, marvelling a little at her
disturbance, she came
swiftly up to me, and stooped and caught me
by the hand; and the next moment my hand was at her mouth, and she
had
bitten me to the bone. The pang of the bite, the sudden
spurting of blood, and the
monstroushorror of the act, flashed
through me all in one, and I beat her back; and she
sprang at me
again and again, with bestial cries, cries that I recognised, such
cries as had
awakened me on the night of the high wind. Her
strength was like that of
madness; mine was rapidly ebbing with the
loss of blood; my mind besides was whirling with the abhorrent
strangeness of the onslaught, and I was already forced against the
wall, when Olalla ran betwixt us, and Felipe, following at a bound,
pinned down his mother on the floor.
A trance-like
weakness fell upon me; I saw, heard, and felt, but I
was
incapable of
movement. I heard the struggle roll to and fro
upon the floor, the yells of that catamount ringing up to Heaven as
she
strove to reach me. I felt Olalla clasp me in her arms, her
hair falling on my face, and, with the strength of a man, raise and
half drag, half carry me
upstairs into my own room, where she cast
me down upon the bed. Then I saw her
hasten to the door and lock
it, and stand an
instant listening to the
savage cries that shook
the residencia. And then, swift and light as a thought, she was
again beside me,
binding up my hand, laying it in her bosom,
moaning and
mourning over it with dove-like sounds. They were not
words that came to her, they were sounds more beautiful than
speech,
infinitelytouching,
infinitely tender; and yet as I lay
there, a thought stung to my heart, a thought wounded me like a
sword, a thought, like a worm in a flower, profaned the
holiness of
my love. Yes, they were beautiful sounds, and they were inspired
by human
tenderness; but was their beauty human?
All day I lay there. For a long time the cries of that nameless
female thing, as she struggled with her half-witted whelp,
resounded through the house, and pierced me with
despairing sorrow
and
disgust. They were the death-cry of my love; my love was
murdered; was not only dead, but an offence to me; and yet, think
as I pleased, feel as I must, it still swelled within me like a
storm of
sweetness, and my heart melted at her looks and touch.
This
horror that had
sprung out, this doubt upon Olalla, this
savage and bestial
strain that ran not only through the whole
behaviour of her family, but found a place in the very
foundations
and story of our love - though it appalled, though it shocked and
sickened me, was yet not of power to break the knot of my
infatuation.
When the cries had ceased, there came a scraping at the door, by
which I knew Felipe was without; and Olalla went and spoke to him -
I know not what. With that
exception, she stayed close beside me,
now kneeling by my bed and
fervently praying, now sitting with her
eyes upon mine. So then, for these six hours I drank in her
beauty, and
silently perused the story in her face. I saw the
golden coin hover on her
breaths; I saw her eyes
darken and
brighter, and still speak no language but that of an unfathomable
kindness; I saw the
faultless face, and, through the robe, the
lines of the
faultless body. Night came at last, and in the
growing darkness of the
chamber, the sight of her slowly melted;
but even then the touch of her smooth hand lingered in mine and
talked with me. To lie thus in
deadlyweakness and drink in the
traits of the
beloved, is to reawake to love from
whatever shock of
disillusion. I reasoned with myself; and I shut my eyes on
horrors, and again I was very bold to accept the worst. What
mattered it, if that
imperioussentiment survived; if her eyes
still beckoned and attached me; if now, even as before, every fibre
of my dull body yearned and turned to her? Late on in the night
some strength revived in me, and I spoke:-
'Olalla,' I said, 'nothing matters; I ask nothing; I am content; I
love you.'
She knelt down
awhile and prayed, and I devoutly respected her
devotions. The moon had begun to shine in upon one side of each of
the three windows, and make a misty
clearness in the room, by which
I saw her indistinctly. When she rearose she made the sign of the
cross.