Had I yielded to passion, had I not in some small degree exercised
wisdom, I should have coined out of this last meeting with Mrs.
Fortress a most exquisite torture; but I schooled myself into the
acceptance of what was entirely beyond my comprehension, and after an
interval of agitated thought I set it down to a trick, the inspiration
of which may have been derived from unguarded words escaping me
while I slept, or while I was soliloquising--a habit into which I had
grown--and she was watching me unobserved. It troubled me a great deal
at first, but I was successful in diminishing instead of magnifying
it, and it was fortunate for me that I had much to occupy my mind in
other ways during the few following weeks. My lawyer demanded my time
and attention. I was determined, without question as to whether a
favourable market could be found for them, to dispose of the property
and securities which my father had left, and which now were mine. I
was determined to commence a new life, without any exact definition or
idea as to what that life was to be; and to do this it was necessary,
according to my view, that I should make a clearance. I was surprised
to discover that my father had made a great number of investments, and
it was to my advantage that they were mostly good ones. Had I
possessed both the moral and the legal power I would have sold
Rosemullion, but my father's will was so worded that the lawyer
pointed out to me that there would be difficulties in the way, and
after listening to his arguments I agreed to retain it as my freehold.
But I was determined not to inhabit it, and I gave instructions that a
tenant should be sought for it, and that, if one could not be
obtained, it should remain untenanted.
"It had been unoccupied a great many years," the lawyer remarked,
"when your father purchased it."
"For any particular reason?" I inquired.
"No," replied the lawyer, "except that there was a foolish idea that
it was haunted."
"Whoever rents Rosemullion," I said, "must take his own ghosts with
him if he wishes for ghostly company."
"We generally do that," said the lawyer, dryly, "wherever we go."
There were legal requirements to be attended to in the drawing up and
signing of deeds, but otherwise there was no difficulty in carrying
out my intention to the letter, and at the expiration of three months
I found myself an absolutely free and unencumbered man, with my large
fortune invested in English consols, the fluctuations of which caused
me not a moment's uneasiness. During those three months I lived my
usual life, read, studied, and often wandered through the adjacent
woods at night. I think that the adventure I have elsewhere narrated
of the tramps I befriended one stormy night had awakened my sympathies
for the class, and I may say, without vanity, that it was not the only
occasion on which my sympathies had taken a practical shape. A little
while before I bade farewell to Rosemullion I was wandering through
the woods an hour or so before the rising of the sun, when I came upon
a woman sleeping on the ground. As usual, she had a child in her arms,
and moans issued from the breasts of both the woman and the child. It
was a pitiful sight, familiar enough in our overcrowded land. The
woman was the picture of desolation. Suddenly, as I gazed, a mocking
voice whispered that it would be merciful to kill her where she lay.
"Do a good deed," said the silent voice, "and hasten home to bed. No
one will know." I laughed aloud, and took from my pocket my purse,
which was well supplied with money. The woman had an apron on. I
wrapped the purse in it, and tied it securely, so that it should not
escape her. Then I crept away, but scarcely knew whether to be glad or
sorry that I had cheated fate once more.
A few days afterwards I turned my back on Rosemullion.
I had formed no definite plans; all that I had settled was that I
would go abroad and see the world. It was open for me, and the flowers
were blooming. Was I not rich, and had I not already had experience of
the value of riches?
But although I travelled far, and saw the wonders of art and nature in
foreign lands, my habits were much the same as they had been in
England. What I enjoyed I enjoyed in solitude; the chance
acquaintances who offered themselves, many of them travelling alone as
I was travelling, received no encouragement from me; I did not respond
to their advances. In this I was but repeating my boyish experiences
when I was living with my parents in London attics. Truly, the child
is father to the man.
It may appear strange to those who are fond of friendships, and who
cling ardently to them, to learn that, despite my loneliness, I had
not a dull moment. Nature was very beautiful to my soul, its forms and
changes most entrancing. I cared little for the great towns and
cities. The modes of life therein, especially those which were
exemplified by the absurd lengths and extravagances to which fashion
drives its votaries, excited in me a very sincere contempt, and I was
amazed that people could be so blind to the sweetest joys of
existence. I visited the theatres, but they had, for the most part, no
fascination for me. I saw great actresses associated with buffoons,
and often themselves buffooning; I followed, at first with interest,
the efforts of a be-puffed actress, who rose to the terrors and the
beauties of her part in one fine scene, and did not consider the rest
of her mimic life, as depicted on the boards, worth the trouble of
consistency; I was present at the performance of dramas which were
absolutely false in their action and sentiment. What pleased me best
were the short poetical episodes, occupying less than an hour in their
representation, and in which two or three good actors sustained and
preserved the unities in excellent style. But these were side dishes,
and only served to bring into stronger relief the larger and grosser
fare provided for the intellectual education of the masses. I went to
the opera, and could only enjoy it by shutting my eyes, so many
absurdities were forced upon my sight: and as this drew unpleasant
attention upon me, I was compelled to deprive myself of the enjoyment.
I strolled into the gambling saloons, and gazed in amazement upon the
faces of men and women in which the lowest passions were depicted.
Human nature in those places was degraded and belittled. "Is there
some mysterious hidden sweetness in this many-sided frenzy?" I asked
myself, and I staked my money, and endeavoured to discover it; but the
game did not stir my pulses; I lost or won with indifference. I soon
tired of it, and bade adieu to the rooms, with a sigh of compassion
and contempt for the slaves who fretted their hearts therein.
My chiefest pleasures were experienced in small villages in mountain
and valley, where there was so little attraction for the ordinary
tourist that he seldom lingered there. I delighted in primitiveness
and simplicity, where human baseness had the fewest opportunities to
thrive, and where human goodness was the least likely to be spoilt by
publicity. It was in these places that I came to the conclusion that
the largest amount of happiness is to be found among small
communities.
But although I was consistent, up to a certain period, in declining
all offers of intimacy and friendship, it happened that I was to come
into contact with a man for whom, in a short space of time, I grew to
have a very close regard. His name was Louis, by profession a doctor,
by descent a German.
We met in the woods near Nerac, in Gascony. I was fording a
watercourse which intersected part of the forest when my foot slipped
upon a round stone which I had supposed was fast embedded in the
earth, but which proved to be loose. I made a spring upon the stone,
and it rolled over, and landed me in the water. A wetting was of no
account, but when I attempted to rise I uttered a sharp cry of pain. I
had sprained my ankle.
With difficulty I crawled from the water to dry ground, upon which I
sat, nursing my ankle, which already was swelling ominously. In a
short time the pain became intolerable, and I endeavoured to draw the
boot from my foot, and finding this was not possible, I cut it away
bit by bit, and then cut my stocking loose. I experienced instant and
delicious relief. The pleasure we derive from the relief of pain is
the most exquisite of all physical sensations. I bathed my ankle with
water from the cold stream, which somewhat reduced the swelling, but
the relief was only temporary, for when I endeavoured again to rise,
the torture produced by my attempt to sustain the weight of my body
upon my foot was so keen that I fell prone to the ground in agony.
There were no trees sufficiently near by the aid of which I might
manage to walk a short distance, and in the intervals of relief
afforded by further applications of cold water, I ruefully
contemplated my position.
I had walked twenty miles during the day, and I was a stranger in the
locality. The time was evening, and no person was in sight to assist
me. From inquiries I made on the road earlier in the day I calculated
that Nerac must be at least three miles distant from the spot upon
which I lay. To crawl that distance was impossible. I looked upward to
the sky. Heavy clouds charged with rain, were approaching in my
direction, and the prospect before me of having to pass the night in
the woods was by no means pleasant. I had learnt from experience that
the storms in this region were violent and fierce; and, moreover, I
had eaten nothing since the morning. Hunger was making strong demands
upon me--all the stronger, as is the way of things, because of
helplessness. I called aloud, and only a very fine echo--which I was
not in the mood to admire and appreciate--answered me. Again and again
I strove to rise, and again and again I sank to the ground, My ankle
was getting worse, and had by this time swelled to double its usual
girth. I turned my head in every direction, in eager quest of a human
form, but none met my view. A squirrel sprang out of the woods, and
stopped suddenly short at sight of me. It remained quite still, at a
distance of a few paces gazing at me, and then it darted away,
inspiring within me an absurd envy of its active movements. Birds,
with cries both shrill and soft, flew to their nests; frogs croaked
near the edges of the water. Evening fell, the sun descended; night
was my enemy, and was eager to get at me, and soon its darkness fell
around me like a shroud. This had ever been an enjoyment to me, but on
the present occasion it served but to aggravate the mental disorder
produced by my sufferings. The figures I conjured up in the gloom were
the reverse of soothing, and I found myself occasionally labouring
under a kind of delirium. One of my fancies was so peculiar that I
will recall it. I saw on the left of me a deep cave, which as I gazed
upon it grew to an enormous size. I had been looking in that direction
only a moment before, and had seen nothing; the sudden vision of this
great cave in the midst of black space was, therefore, the more
surprising. Its roof and sides resembled a huge feathery disk, and
deep back in the recess, embedded in the furthermost wall, were two
strange-looking globes, surrounded by spots and curved lines of the
colours of orange, brown, and soft grey. These globes were instinct
with motion, and seemed to shrink and swell, while the coloured spots
and curves around them contracted or expanded, in obedience to some
mysterious law. The feathery roof and walls seemed also to contract
and expand in sympathy, and these wave-like movements made it appear
as if the cave were a living monster. I managed to raise myself upon
my elbow for a moment, and as I did so I was terror-struck by
beholding the monster cave rise and fly past me--in the shape of an
owl that had wandered my way in search of food.
Fortunately the storm held off a while, but about midnight, as near as
I could judge in an interval of reason, a few heavy drops of rain
fell. I really felt as if this were to be my last night on earth. Soon
the storm broke over the forest, and in a moment I was drenched to the
skin. This, with the pain that was throbbing in every vein, and the
hunger that was gnawing at me, completely exhausted me, and I became
insensible.
I was awakened by the touch of hands, by the sound of a human voice. I
languidly opened my eyes, and saw a man bending over me. The storm had
passed away, and the sun was just rising. I had barely strength to
note these signs, for my condition was pitiable. The man addressed me
first in French, then in German; but although I could speak both
languages my senses were so dazed that I had no understanding of them
at the moment. I murmured faintly a few words in my native tongue.
"Ah," said the man, quickly and cheerfully, answering me in my own
language, which he spoke well, but with a foreign accent, "you are
English?"
I murmured "Yes."
"Of course," he said, "I should have known without asking. You are
faint and exhausted. I perceive how it is. You crossed the stream, and
fell, and sprained your ankle."
I nodded, dreamily and vacantly. All the time he spoke he was busy
binding my ankle with some linen he had taken from a leather bag which
hung by a strap from his shoulders.
"How long have you been lying here? But to give me that information
just now is not imperative. You wish to tell me. Well?"
"I have been here at least since yesterday--perhaps longer."
"That is bad, very bad; I can judge from the sprain that you must have
been here a great many hours. It is a very severe sprain; there is
inflammation, great inflammation; you will not be able to walk for
weeks. But what does that matter? These are the smallest ills of life.
Were you on your way to Nerac? Do not answer me in speech. Nod, or
shake your head. Rally your strength--for a few moments only--so that
I may know how to deal by you. Come, you are a strong man. Compel
yourself not to swoon. Stupid that I am! I have generally a flask with
me; but I have forgotten it, and just when it is most needed. It shall
not occur again; but that resolve will not help us now, will it? Were
you on your way to Nerac? A nod. Yes, then. Have you friends there? A
shake. No, then. Travelling for pleasure? Yes. An English gentleman?
Yes. It is fortunate for you, friend, that, warned by the signs of a
coming storm last night, I delayed my return home till this morning,
and that, to prevent my people being for too long a time uneasy about
me, I took a short cut, which is seldom used. The path is so little
frequented that you might have lain here for another weary day. I am
from Nerac; my home is there, and my family. Attend. I am going to
lift you upon my horse; I call it, and it comes to me. See, it kneels
at my bidding. We are friends, my horse and I; and it understands me;
it can do anything but speak. Observe that I shorten the left stirrup,
so that your sprained foot may find a fairly easy resting-place, and
that I slightly lengthen the right stirrup, In order that leaning
to the right, with your sound foot firmly planted, you may throw all
your weight on that side. Now, I place my arm under your left
shoulder--thus, and I have a firm hold of you. Do not fear; I am very
strong, and my dear dumb brute will keep very still. I place your arm
round my neck--thus. Clasp me as closely as your strength will permit.
That is right--it is cleverly done. Now, resolve to bear a little
sharp pain for a moment, only for a moment. Englishmen are not only
proverbially but actually brave and stout-hearted. There--it is
accomplished, and my dumb comrade is ready for the journey home. Are
you comfortably placed? Here is my shoulder on the right of you, to
rest your hand upon. Don't be fearful that you might lean too hard; I
am made of iron. What a glorious sunrise! There is a subdued beauty in
the colours of the sky after a great shower which is very charming. If
you can manage not to faint for a little while it will be of
assistance to us. The storm has cooled the air; you must feel it
refreshing to your hot skin. We will nurse you well again, never fear.
There will be a slight fever to grapple with, in addition to the
healing of the ankle. Do not be disturbed by doubts that you may not
be in friendly hands. I am a physician, and my name is Louis--Doctor
Louis. Nerac is a most lovely spot. When you are well, we will show
you its beauties. You are a brave young fellow to smile and keep your
eyes open to please your doctor. There--that is a rabbit darting
through the sunlight--and the birds, do you hear them? They are
singing hymns to the Creator. Yonder, high up in the distance, winging
its way to the rosy light, is a skylark. 'Hail to thee, blithe
spirit!' It is better for me to take you home in this way than to
leave you lying by the stream yonder, while I went to Nerac to fetch
assistance. You might have thought I was never coming back, and the
torture of suspense would have been added to your other discomforts.
Then, we shall reach Nerac a good many minutes earlier by this means.
There are times when minutes are of serious importance. We are on an
eminence, and are about to descend the valley which leads straight to
Nerac. If you were quite yourself you would be just able to catch a
glimpse of the roofs of the houses in our pretty village. There are
few prettier--none in my opinion. We shall jolt a little going down
hill. Bear up bravely; it will soon be over."
With such-like words of encouragement, most kindly and sympathetically
uttered, in tones soothing and melodious, did Doctor Louis strive to
lighten the weary way, but long before we came to the end of our
journey everything faded from my sight.