"Will you drink?" I said.
She moved her head to say yes, and I poured a few drops of water down
her throat, but she could not swallow them.
The mother, who was quieter, had turned round to look at her child; and
all at once a feeling of dread took possession of me, a sinister dread
that passed over me, like the touch of some invisible monster. Where
was I? I no longer knew! Was I dreaming? What horrible nightmare was
this?
Is it true that such things happen? that one dies like this? And I
glanced into all the dark corners of the cottage, as though I expected
to see crouching in some obscure angle, a hideous, unmentionable,
terrifying thing, the thing which lies in wait for the lives of men,
and kills, devours, crushes, strangles them; the thing that delights in
red blood, eyes glistening with, fever, wrinkles and scars, white hair
and decay.
The fire was dying out. I threw some more wood on it, and warmed my
back, shuddering in every limb. At least, I hoped to die in a good
room, with doctors around my bed and medicines on the tables! And these
women had been all alone, for twenty-four hours in this wretched hovel,
without a fire, stretched on the straw with the death rattle in their
throats! At last I heard the trot of a horse and the sounds of wheels;
and the nurse came in coolly, pleased at finding some work to do, and
showing little surprise at the sight of such misery.
I left her some money and fled with my dog; I fled like a malefactor,
running away in the rain; with the rattle of those two throats still
ringing in my ears,--running towards my warm home where my servants
were awaiting me and preparing my good dinner.
But I shall never forget that scene, nor many other dreadful things,
that make me loathe this world.
What would I not give at times, to be allowed not to think, not to
feel, to live like a brute in a warm, clear atmosphere, in a country
mellow with golden light, devoid of the raw, crude tones of verdure,
a country of the East where I might sleep without weariness, and wake
without care, where restlessness is not anxiety, where love is free
from anguish, and existence is not a burden.
I should choose there a large square dwelling, like a huge box
sparkling in the sun.
From the terrace, I should look upon the sea and the white wing-like
pointed sails of the Greek and Turkish boats, as they flit to and fro.
The outer walls have hardly any apertures. A large garden with air
heavily laden under the overshadowing palm-trees, forms the centre of
this Oriental home. Sprays of clear water shoot up under the trees, and
fall back again with a slight splash, into a broad marble fountain
sanded with golden dust. Here I should bathe often, between two pipes,
two dreams, or two kisses.
[Illustration 039]
I should have slaves, black and handsome, draped in light airy
clothing, noiselessly running hither and thither over the heavy carpets.
My walls should be soft and rebounding, with the round contours of
a woman's bosom, and on the divans encircling each room, numberless
cushions of every shape, should permit of my reposing in every
conceivable attitude.
Then, when I should tire of my delicious repose, of my immobility,
of my eternal day-dream; satiated with the calm enjoyment of my own
well-being, then, I would order a horse to be brought to my door--a
horse black or white, as fleet as a gazelle.
And I would spring upon his hack, and in a furious gallop, quaff the
tingling intoxicating air.
And I would dart like an arrow, over the glowing country which fills
the eye with delight, and has all the bouquet of wine.
In the calm hour of eve, I would fly in a mad career, towards the vast
horizon dyed rose colour in the setting sun. Out there, all becomes
rose in the twilight: the sun-burnt mountains, the sand, the garments
of the Arabs, the dromedaries, the horses, the tents! The rose-coloured
flamingoes fly upwards from the marshes to the rose-coloured sky, and I
should scream with delight, plunged in the boundless infinite rosiness,
of all that surrounds me.
[Illustration 040]
I shall be released from the sight of the streets and the deafening
noise of cabs on the pavement, from the sight of black-coated men,
seated on uncomfortable chairs, as they sip their absinthe and talk
over business.
I should ignore the state of the money market, political events,
changes of ministry, all the useless frivolities on which we squander
our short and vapid existence. Why should I undergo these worries,
these sufferings, these struggles? I would rest sheltered from the wind
in my bright and sumptuous dwelling.
The winged dream was floating before my closed eyelids, and over my
mind as it sank to rest; when I heard my men awakening, lighting the
boat's lantern, and setting to work at some arduous and lengthy task.