THE ENCOUNTER.
The two young people were returning from the concert that had been
given in St. Julian's Hall. They were walking. It was a beautiful
evening. Not a breath of wind, not a cloud in the sky. Both nature
and humanity slumbered. A deep silence prevailed along the lane in
which the young couple were walking.
'Twas a charming spot, these lanes, bordered on either side by high
hedges of stone and earth, on which grew furze and grass, while here
and there, a solitary primrose--it was the month of March,--was
bending its slender stalk, loaded as it was with dew.
Conversation is an art. So is silence. The latter is even less known
than the former.
Both the young people were now silent as they proceeded towards "Les
Marches," but it was a silence which spoke. They knew each other's
thoughts, one heart spoke to the other; they were both impressed
with the supreme beauty of nature and filled with love, for that
same evening they had plighted their troth.
It was Frank who first broke the silence: "How beautifully serene
the sky is, Adele; almost as clear as your forehead."
"What an immense number of stars," she said, "astronomy must be a
beautiful pursuit."
"It must be," he replied. "To soar far above this earth, to
contemplate those worlds, to feel oneself lifted into space, to
visit the moon with its mountains and rivers, plateaux and lakes; to
accompany Venus and Mars and all the other planets in their course;
to float, as it were, amongst these gigantic masterpieces of the
Creator, to calculate their dimensions, to measure their course, to
weigh those monsters; to bring to light the treasures of metal which
they contain, by the aid of Spectrum. Analysis, all this and a great
deal more which is associated with the science must be indeed full
of wonderful exhiliration."
"To hear you talk, one would imagine that you yearn to be amongst
all those stars and planets," said Adele.
"It is not the case," he answered, "because--I'll tell you why--I am
content to have Venus so near to me."
"I am afraid you will have to be Mars," she said somewhat anxiously.
"Not a bit of it," he replied cheerfully, "Mars is generally
represented with a long beard, and look, I have but a slight
moustache; have you ever noticed," he continued, "that all these
planets move in circles. I think the circle is the ideal figure of
the Creator. Man cannot measure a circle or sphere."
"I thought the heavenly bodies moved in ellipses," she interrupted.
"Yes, but ellipses are but a form of circles."
"Of course, I had never thought about it before, one has so much to
learn in life. Nature's wonders are numerous and full of instruction
for the thoughtful student. It seems to me sometimes that my soul
converses with nature. A cloud obscures the sky, and I feel that
cloud passing over my heart; a ray of sunshine illumines the earth,
and causes my flowers to open their petals and the dew-drops on the
grass to shine like millions of diamonds, and I smile."
"You have the soul of a poetess," he said.
She laughed a rippling laugh. "I do not know, but I think the study
of nature, the proper study of man."
"Others,--with a less poetic soul, doubtless--seem to differ from
you. I think Pope did. But you love nature, and do not care for
man."
Her pearly teeth saw the light.
When Adele bade good-night to Frank that evening, a strange
presentiment of coming evil overcame her.
She walked inside her father's house. When she entered the kitchen
she was surprised at finding it empty. The lamp was on the table. It
was lighted. Beside it was an empty mug. She lighted a candle, went
into the parlour, and divested herself of her hat and jacket,
thinking her father would soon return.
She did not feel at ease, however. Every other minute she turned
round nervously, half afraid of finding someone in the room. Where
could her father be? She grew anxious. Going at the foot of the
stairs, she called out: "Father, father."
Not a sound, save that of her voice which sounded funereally.
She went to the door, opened it, and looked outside. Everything was
still. All at once she heard something. It was not a shout, it was a
scream, a shriek, an entreaty; it came again, much louder this time,
she could distinctly hear the word: "Help."
She distinguished that voice; there was no mistaking it, she would
have discerned its sound amongst ten thousand. This voice was
Frank's. He had cried, he had implored, there was but one thing for
her to do--to run to his aid.
Without even taking the trouble to fetch her hat, she hastily ran in
the direction from whence the sound came.
Breathless, she arrived upon the scene. There, on the ground, lay
the prostrate figure of a man, his head supported on the knee of
another one.
The prostrate figure was her father's, the other man was Frank.
When he saw her with her hair dishevelled and her frantic look,
Frank looked astonished. He then beckoned to her and said: "It is
only a faint, and I hope only a slight bleeding of the nose. I think
he will soon regain consciousness. Is there any water about here?"
"Not that I know of," she said, "but I will hasten home and bring
some."
While she was gone, Mr. Rougeant opened his eyes. "Where am I?" he
said, after in vain trying to recollect his thoughts.
"With a friend," answered Frank, bending over him.
The farmer closed his eyes, then opened them again and fixed them on
Frank. He quickly shut them again, however. He had recognized the
young man and a pang of remorse shot through his hard heart.
Adele soon came with a small can full of water; and a basin. Her
father kept his eyes closed. He had not the courage to open them.
She poured the water in a basin and began to wash his face.
When she had finished, he opened his eyes resolutely and said: "Now
that I am washed and the bleeding has ceased, I had better go home."
Without having the courage to look at Frank he said: "I think I can
do with my daughter."
He tried to rise, but uttered a cry of pain. "My foot hurts me
fearfully," he said, "I cannot move without your aid."
Thereupon they both helped him to his feet, while he kept a frowning
look and a silent tongue.
"Do you think you can walk leaning on my shoulder?" said Frank.
"Perhaps," he replied, and, placing his hand on the preferred
shoulder, he began to hobble along; stopping often and speaking
seldom.
When the farmer was comfortably installed near the fire, his leg
carefully placed on a footstool, Frank, knowing he was not wanted,
took his leave, expressing a hope that the injured limb would soon
be all right again.
The farmer shook his head sadly, and gave a look at Frank that was
very significant.
Then he shrank for some time into a state of complete silence, but
his face was clouded and his bushy eyebrows were more prominently
drawn over his eyes than they had been for a long time.
He hardly spoke a word to Adele that evening, barely answering her
questions.
How had the tables thus been turned? When Mr. Rougeant heard Frank
pass by alone, he hastily vaulted over the hedge, intending to
attack him, if not with his fists, at least with his tongue. But
Providence directed otherwise. He miscalculated the height of the
hedge on the side of the road,--for the field was higher than the
road--and fell flat on his nose and face, one of his feet twisting
under him and getting sprained.
The blow which he sustained in falling and the pain caused by his
sprained ankle caused him to faint. Frank ran to his aid, lifted him
carefully, and placed his head on his own knee.
It was in this position, as we have already seen, that Adele
discovered them.
When Frank saw the farmer's nose bleeding so profusely, and the
deathly paleness on his face, he cried for help. It was this cry
which the young lady heard. The same cry aroused Tom, who was
sleeping soundly, doubtless dreaming of his fair cousin. He looked
carefully over the hedge, and when he saw how matters stood and how
his uncle lay, he took to his heels and fled. Cowardice lent him
wings.