Katharina slept little and rose very early, as was her habit, while
Heliodora was glad to sleep away the morning hours. In this scorching
season they were, to be sure, the pleasantest of the twenty-four, and the
water-wagtail usually found them so; but to-day, though a splendid Indian
flower had bloomed for the first time, and the head gardener pointed it
out to her with just pride, she could not enjoy it and be glad. It might
perish for aught she cared, and the whole world with it!
There was no one stirring yet in the next garden, but the tall leech
Philippus might be seen coming along the road to pay a visit to the
women.
A few swift steps carried her to the gate, whence she called him. She
must entreat him to say nothing of her last night's expedition; but
before she had time to prefer her request he had paused to tell her that
the widow of the Mukaukas, overcome by alarm and horror, had followed her
husband to the next world.
There had been a time when Katharina had been devoted to Neforis,
regarding her as a second mother; when the governor's residence had
seemed to her the epitome of all that was great, venerable, and
illustrious; and when she had been proud and happy to be allowed to run
in and out, and to be loved like a child of the family. The tears that
started to her eyes were sincere, and it was a relief to her, too, to lay
aside the gay and defiantly happy mien which she wore as a mask, while
all in her soul was dark, wild, and desperate.
The physician understood her grief; he readily promised not to betray her
to any one, and did not blame her, though he again pointed out the danger
she had incurred and earnestly insisted that every article of clothing,
which she or Heliodora had worn, must be destroyed. The subtle germ of
the malady, he said, clung to everything; every fragment of stuff which
had been touched by the plague-stricken was especially fitted to carry
the infection and disseminate the disease. She listened to him in deep
alarm, but she could satisfy him on this point; everything she or her
companion had worn had been burnt in the bath-room furnace.
The physician went on; and she, heedless of the growing heat, wandered
restlessly about the grounds. Her heart beat with short, quick, painful
jerks; an invisible burthen weighed upon her and prevented her breathing
freely. A host of torturing thoughts haunted her unbidden; they were not
to be exorcised, and added to her misery: Neforis dead; the residence in
the hands of the Arabs; Orion bereft of his possessions and held guilty
of a capital crime.
And the peaceful house beyond the hedge--what trouble was hanging over
its white-haired master and his guileless wife and daughter? A storm was
gathering, she could see it approaching--and beyond it, like another
murky, death-dealing thunder-cloud, was the pestilence, the fearful
pestilence.
And it was she, a fragile, feeble girl--a volatile water-wagtail--who had
brought all these terrors down on them, who had opened the sluice-gates
through which ruin was now beginning to pour in on all around her.
She could see the flood surging, swelling--saw it lapping round her own
house, her own feet; drops of sweat bedewed her forehead and hands from
terror at the mere thought. And yet, and yet!--If she had really had the
power to bind calamity in the clouds, to turn the tide back into its
channel, she would not have done so! The uttermost that she longed for,
as the fruit of the seed she had sown and which she longed to see ripen,
had not yet come to pass--and to see that she would endure anything, even
death and parting from this deceitful, burning, unlovely world.
Death awaited Orion; and before it overtook him he should know who had
sharpened the sword. Perhaps he might escape with his life; but the Arab
would not disgorge what he once had seized, and if that young and
splendid Croesus should come out of prison alive, but a beggar, then--
then... And as for Paula! As for Heliodora! For once her little hand
had wrenched the thunderbolts from Zeus' eagle, and she would find one
for them!
The sense of her terrible power, to which more than one victim had
already fallen, intoxicated her. She would drive Orion--Orion who had
betrayed her--into utter ruin and misery; she would see him a beggar at
her feet!--And this it was that gave her courage to do her worst; this,
and this alone. What she would do then, she herself knew not; that lay
as yet in the womb of the Future. She might take a fancy to do something
kind, compassionate, and tender.
By the time she went into the house again her fears and depression had
vanished; revived energy possessed her soul, and the little eavesdropper
and tale-bearer had become in this short hour a purposeful and terrible
woman, ready for any crime.
"Poor little lamb!" thought Philippus, as he went into Rufinus' garden.
"That miserable man may have brought pangs enough to her little heart!"
His old friend's garden-plot was deserted. Under the sycamore, however,
he perceived the figures of a very tall young man and a pretty woman,
delicate, fair-haired, and rather pale. The big young fellow was holding
a skein of wool on his huge, outstretched hands; the girl was winding it
on to a ball. These were Rustem the Masdakite and Mandane, both now
recovered from their injuries; the girl, indeed, had been restored to the
new life of a calm and understanding mind. Philippus had watched over
this wonderful resuscitation with intense interest and care. He ascribed
it, in the first instance, to the great loss of blood from the wound in
her head; and secondly, to the fresh air and perfect nursing she had had.
All that was now needful was to protect her against agitation and violent
emotions. In the Masdakite she had found a friend and a submissive
adorer; and Philippus could rejoice as he looked at the couple, for his
skill had indeed brought him nothing but credit.
His greeting to them was cheery and hearty, and in answer to his enquiry:
"How are you getting on?" Rustem replied, "As lively as a fish in
water," adding, as he pointed to Mandane, "and I can say the same for my
fellow-countrywoman."
"You are agreed then?" said the leech, and she nodded eager assent.
At this Philippus shook his finger at the man, exclaiming: "Do not get
too tightly entangled here, my friend. Who knows how soon Haschim may
call you away."
Then, turning his back on the convalescents, he murmured to himself:
"Here again is something to cheer us in the midst of all this trouble-
these two, and little Mary."
Rufinus, before starting on his journey, had sent back all the crippled
children he had had in his care to their various parents; thus the
anteroom was empty.
The women apparently were at breakfast in the dining-room. No, he was
mistaken; it was yet too early, and Pulcheria was still busy laying the
table. She did not notice him as he went in, for she was busy arranging
grapes, figs, pomegranates and sycamore-figs, a fruit resembling
mulberries in flavor which grow in clusters from the trunk of the tree-
between leaves, which the drought and heat of the past weeks had turned
almost yellow. The tempting heap was fast rising in an elegant many-hued
hemisphere; but her thoughts were not in her occupation, for tears were
coursing each other down her cheeks.
"Those tears are for her father," thought the leech as he watched her
from the threshold. "Poor child!"--How often he had heard his old friend
call her so!
And till now he had never thought of her but as a child; but to-day he
must look at her with different eyes--her own father had enjoined it.
And in fact he gazed at her as though he beheld a miracle.
What had come over little Pulcheria?--How was it that he had never
noticed it before?--It was a well-grown maiden that he saw, moving round,
snowwhite arms; and he could have sworn that she had only thin, childish
arms, for she had thrown them round his neck many a time when she had
ridden up and down the garden on his back, calling him her fine horse.
How long ago was that? Ten years! She was now seventeen!
And how slender, and delicate, and white her hands were--those hands for
which her mother had often scolded her when, after building castles of
sand, she had sat down to table unwashed.
Now she was laying the grapes round the pomegranates, and he remembered
how Horapollo, only yesterday, had praised her dainty skill.
The windows were well screened, but a few sunbeams forced their way into
the room and fell on her red-gold hair. Even the fair Boeotians, whom he
had admired in his student-days at Athens, had no such glorious crown of
hair. That she had a sweet and pretty face he had always known; but now,
as she raised her eyes and first observed him, meeting his gaze with
maidenly embarrassment and sweet surprise, and yet with perfect welcome,
he felt himself color and he had to pause a moment to collect himself
before he could respond with something more than an ordinary greeting to
hers. The dialogue that flashed through his mind in that instant began
with sentences full of meaning. But all he said was:
"Yes, here I am," which really did not deserve the hearty reply:
"Thank God for that!" nor the bewitching embarrassment of the explanation
that ensued: "on my mother's account."
Again he blushed; he, the man who had long since forgotten his youthful
shyness. He asked after Dame Joanna, and how she was bearing her
trouble, and then he said gravely: "I was the bearer of bad news
yesterday, and to-day again I have come like a bird of ill-omen."
"You?" she said with a smile, and the simple word conveyed so sweet a
doubt of his capacity for bringing evil that he could not help saying to
himself that his friend, in leaving this child, this girl, to his care,
had bequeathed to him the best gift that one mortal can devise to
another: a dear, trustful, innocent daughter--or no, a younger sister--as
pure, as engaging, and as lovable as only the child of such parents could
be.
While he stood telling her of what had happened at the governor's house,
he noted how deeply, for Paula's and Mary's sake, she took to heart the
widow's death, though Neforis had been nothing to her; and he decided
that he would at once make Pulcheria's mother acquainted with her dead
husband's wishes.
All this did not supplant his old passion for Paula; far from it--that
tortured him still as deeply and hotly as ever. But at the same time he
was conscious of its evil influence; he knew that by cherishing it he was
doing himself harm--nay a real injury since it was not returned. He knew
that within reach of Paula, and condemned to live with her, he could
never recover his peace, but must suffer constant pangs. It was only
away from her, and yet under the same roof with Joanna and her daughter,
that he could ever hope to be a contented and happy man; but he dared not
put this thought into words.
Pulcheria detected that he had something in reserve, and feared lest he
should know of some new impending woe; however, on this head he could
reassure her, telling her that, on the contrary, he had something in his
mind which, so far at least as he was concerned, was a source of
pleasure. Her grieved and anxious spirit could indeed hardly believe
him; and he begged her not to lose all hope in better days, asking her
if she had true and entire trust in him.
She warmly replied that he must surely feel that she did; and now, as the
others came into the room, she nodded to her mother, whom she had already
seen quite early, and offering him her hand shook his heartily. This had
been a restful interval; but the sight of Paula, and the news he had to
give her, threw him back into his old depressed and miserable mood.
Little Mary, whose cheeks had recovered their roses and who looked quite
well again, threw her arms round Paula's neck as she heard the evil
tidings; but Paula herself was calmer than he had expected. She turned
very pale at the first shock, but soon she could listen to him with
composure, and presently quite recovered her usual demeanor. Philippus,
as he watched her, had to control himself sternly, and as soon as
possible he took his leave.
It was as though he had been fated once more to see with agonizing
clearness what he had lost in her; she walked through life as though
borne up by lofty feeling, and a thoughtful radiance lent her noble
features a bewitching charm which grieved while it enchanted him.
Orion a prisoner, and all his possessions confiscated! The thought had
horrified her for a little while; but then it had come to her that this
was just as it should be--that what had at first looked like a dreadful
disaster had been sent to enable her love to cast off its husks, to
appear in all its loftiness and purity, and to give it, by the help of
the All-merciful, its true consecration.
She did not fear for his life, for he had told her and written to her
that Amru had been paternal in his kindness; and all that had occurred
was, she was sure, the work of the Vekeel, of whose odious and cruel
character he had given her a horrible picture that day when Rufinus had
gone to warn the abbess.
When Philippus had left his friends, he sighed deeply. How different he
had found these women from what he had expected. Yes, his old friend
knew men well!
From trifling details he had succeeded in forming a more accurate idea of
Pulcheria than the leech himself had gained in years of intimacy.
Horapollo had foreseen, too, that the danger which threatened the
Mukaukas' son would fan Paula's passions like a fresh breeze; and Joanna,
frail, ailing Joanna! she had behaved heroically under the loss of the
companion with whom she had lived for so many years in faithful love.
He could not help comparing her with the wretched Neforis; what was it
that enabled one to bear the equal loss with so much more dignity than
the other? Nothing but the presence of the tender-hearted Pulcheria,
who shared her sorrow with such beautiful resignation, such ready and
complete sympathy. This the governor's widow had wholly lacked; and how
happy were they who could call such a heart their own! He walked through
the garden with his head bent, and looking neither to the right hand nor
the left.
The Masdakite, who was still sitting with Mandane under the sycamore, as
indifferent to the torrid heat as she was, looked after him, and said
with a sigh as he pointed to him:
"There he goes. This is the first time he ever said a rude word to you
or to me: or did you not understand?"
"Oh yes," said she in a low voice, looking down at her needlework.
They talked in Persian, for she had not forgotten the language which her
mother had spoken till her dying day.
Life is sometimes as strange as a fairy-tale; and the accident was indeed
wonderful which had brought these two beings, of all others, at the same
time to the sick room. His distant home was also hers, and he even knew
her uncle--her father's brother--and her father's sad history.
When the Greek army had taken possession of the province where they had
lived, the men had fled into the woods with their flocks and herds, while
the women and children took refuge in the fortress which defended the
main road. This had not long held out against the Byzantines, and the
women, among them Mandane with her mother, had been handed over to the
soldiers as precious booty. Her father had then joined the troops to
rescue the women, but he and his comrades had only lost their lives in
the attempt. To this day the valiant man's end was a tale told in his
native place, and his property and valuable rose gardens now belonged to
his younger brother. So the two convalescents had plenty to talk about.
It was curious to note how clearly the memories of her childhood were
stamped on Mandane's mind.
She had laid her wounded head on the pillow of sickness with a darkened
brain, and the new pain had lifted the veil from her mind as a storm
clears the oppressive atmosphere of a sultry summer's day. She loved to
linger now among the scenes of her childhood--the time when she had a
mother.--Or she would talk of the present; all between was like a night-
sky black, and only lighted up by an awful comet and shining stars. That
comet was Orion. All she had enjoyed with him and suffered through him
she consigned to the period of her craziness; she had taught herself to
regard it all as part of the madness to which she had been a victim. Her
nature was not capable of cherishing hatred and she could feel no
animosity towards the Mukaukas' son. She thought of him as of one who,
without evil intent, had done her great wrong; one whom she might not
even remember without running into peril.
"Then you mean to say," the Masdakite began once more, "that you would
really miss me if Haschim sent for me?"
"Yes indeed, Rustem; I should be very sorry."
"Oh!" said the other, passing his hand over his big head, on which the
dense mane of hair which had been shaved off was beginning to grow again.
"Well then, Mandane, in that case--I wanted to say it yesterday, but I
could not get it out.--Tell me: why would you be sorry if I were to leave
you?"
"Because--well, no one can have all their reasons ready; because you have
always been kind to me; and because you came from my country, and talk
Persian with me as my mother used."
"Is that all?" said the man slowly, and he rubbed his forehead.
"No, no. Because--if once you go away, you will not be here."
"Aye that is it; that is just the thing. And if you would be sorry for
that, then you must have liked being here--with me."
"And why not? It has been very nice," said the girl blushing and trying
not to meet his eyes.
"That it has--and that it is!" cried Rustem, striking his palm with the
other huge fist. "And that is why I must have it out; that is why, if we
have any sense, we two need never part."
"But your master is sure to want you," said she with growing confusion,
"and we cannot always remain a burthen on the kind folks here. I shall
not work at the loom again; but as I am now free, and have the scroll
that proves it, I must soon look about for some employment. And a
strong, healthy fellow like you cannot always be nursing yourself."
"Nursing myself!" and he laughed gaily. "I will earn money, and enough
for three!"
"By your camels always, up and down the country?"
"I have done with that," said he with a grin. "We will go back to our
own country; there I will buy a good piece of pasture land, for my eldest
brother has our little estate, and you may ask Haschim whether I
understand camel-breeding."
"But Rustem, consider."
"Consider! Think this, and think that! Where there's a will there's a
way. That is the upshot of it all. And if you mean to say that before
you buy you must have money, and that the best may come to grief, all I
can tell you is... Can you read? No? nor I; but here in my pocket I
have my accounts in the master's own hand. Eleven thousand, three
hundred and sixty drachmae were due to me for wages the last time we
reckoned: all the profit the master had set down to my credit since I led
his caravan. He has kept almost all of it for me; for food was allowed,
and there was almost always a bit of stuff for a garment to be found
among the bales, and I never was a sot. Eleven thousand, three hundred
and sixty drachmae! Hey, little one, that is the figure. And now what
do you say? Can we buy something with that? Yes or no?"
He looked at her triumphantly, and she eagerly replied: "Yes, yes indeed;
and in our country I think something worth having."
"And we--you and I--we will begin a quite new life. I was seventeen when
I first set out with my master, and I was twenty-six last midsummer. How
many years wandering does that make?"
They both thought this over for some time; then Mandane said doubtfully
"If I am not mistaken it is eight."
"I believe it is nine," he exclaimed. "Let us see. Here, give me your
little paw! There, I begin with seventeen, that is where I started.
First your little-finger--what a mite of a thing, and then the rest." He
took her right hand and counted off her fingers till he ended with the
last finger of the left. The result puzzled him; he shook his head,
saying: "There are ten fingers on both hands, sure enough, and yet it
cannot be ten years; it is nine at most I know."
He began the counting, which he liked uncommonly, all over again; but
with the same result. Mandane said it was but nine, she had counted it
up herself; and he agreed, and declared that her little fingers must be
bewitched. And this game would have gone on still longer but that she
remembered that the seventeen must not be included at all, and that he
ought to begin with eighteen. Rustem could not immediately take this in,
and even when he admitted it he did not release her hand, but went on
with gay resolution:
"And you see, my girl, I mean to keep this little hand--you may pull it
away if you choose--but it is mine, and the pretty little maid, and all
that belongs to it. And I will take you and both your hands, bewitched
fingers and all, home with me. There they may weave and stitch as much
as you like; but as man and wife no one shall part us, and we will lead a
life such a life! The joys of Paradise shall be no better than a rap on
the skull with an olive-wood log in comparison!"
He tried to take her hand again, but she drew it away, saying in deep
confusion and without looking up: "No, Rustem. I was afraid yesterday
that it would come to this; but it can never, never be. I am grateful--
oh! so grateful; but no, it cannot be, and that must be the end of it.
I can never be your wife. Rustem."
"No?" he asked with a scowl, and the veins swelled in his low forehead.
"Then you have been making a fool of me!--as to the gratitude you talk
of...."
He stood up in hot excitement; she laid her hand on his arm, drew him
down on to the seat again, and ventured to steal an imploring look into
his eyes, which never could long flash with anger. Then she said:
How you break out! I shall really and truly be very grieved to part from
you; cannot you see that I am fond of you? But indeed, indeed it will
never do, I--oh! if only I might go back, home, and with you. Yes, with
you, as your wife. What a proud and happy thought! And how gladly would
I work for us both--for I am very handy and hard-working, but. . . ."
"But?" he repeated, and he put his big, sun-burnt face close to hers,
looking as if he could break her in pieces.
"But it cannot be, for your sake; it must not be, positively, certainly.
I will not make you so bad a return for all your kindness. What! have
you forgotten what I was, what I am? You, as a freeman, will soon have
a nice little estate at home, and may command respect and reverence from
all; but how different it would be if you had a wife like me at your
heels--if only from the fact that I was once a slave."
"That is the history of it all!" he interrupted, and his brow cleared.
"That is what is troubling your dear little soul! But do you not know
who and what I am? Have I not told you what a Masdakite is?
[Eutychius, Bishop of Alexandria thus describes the communistic
doctrine of Masdak: "God has given to men on earth that which is of
the earth to the end that it may be divided equally among them, and
that no more falls to the lot of one than another. And if one hath
more than is seemly of money or wives or slaves or movable goods, we
will take it from him to the end that he and the rest may be equal."]
We Masdakites believe, nay, we know, that all men are born equal, and
that this mad-cap world would be a better place if there were neither
masters nor servants; however, as things are, so they must remain. The
great Lord of Heaven will suffer it yet for a season; but sooner or
later, perhaps very soon, everything will be quite different, and it is
our business to make ready for the day of equality. Then Paradise will
return on earth; there will be none greater or less than another, but we
shall all walk hand-in-hand and stand by each other on an equal footing.
Then shall war and misery cease; for all that is fair and good on earth
belongs to all men in common; and then all men shall be as willing to
give and to help others, as they now are to seize and to oppress.--We
have no marriage bond like other people; but when a man loves a woman he
says, 'Will you be mine?' and if her heart consents she follows him home;
and one may quit the other if love grows cold. Still, no married couple,
whether Christian or Parsee, ever clung together more faithfully than my
parents or my grandparents; and we will do the same to the end, for our
love will bind us firmly together with strong cords that will last longer
than our lives.--So now you know the doctrine of our master Masdak; my
father and grandfather both followed it, and I was taught it by my mother
when I was a little child. All in our village were Masdakites; and there
was not a slave in the place; the land belonged to all in common and was
tilled by all, and the harvest was equally shared. However, they no
longer receive strangers, and I must seek for fellow-believers elsewhere.
Still, a Masdakite I shall always remain; and, if I were to take a slave
for my wife, I should only be acting on the precepts of the master and
helping them on. But as for you, the case does not apply to you, for you
are the child of a brave freeman, respected in all the land; our people
will regard you as a prisoner of war, not as a slave. They will look up
to me as your deliverer. And if I had found you, just as you are, the
meanest of slaves and keeping pigs, I would have put my hand in my wallet
at once and have bought your freedom and have carried you off home as my
wife--and no Masdakite who saw you would ever blame me. Now you know all
about it, and there, I hope, is an end of your coyness and mincing."
Mandane, however, still would not yield; she looked at him with eyes that
entreated his pity, and pointed to her cropped ears.
Rustem shrugged his shoulders with a laugh. "Of course, that too, into
the bargain; You will not let me off any part of it! If it had been your
eyes now, you would not have been able to see, and no countryman can do
with a blind wife, so I should leave you where you are. But you, little
one, have hearing as sharp as a bird's? And what bird--pretty little
things--did you ever see with ears, unless it were a bat or a nasty owl?
--That is all nonsense. Besides, who can see what you have lost now that
Pulcheria has brought your hair down so prettily? And do not you
remember the head-dress our women wear? You might have ears as long as a
hare's, and what good would it do you?--no one could see them. Just as
you are, a lily grown like a cypress, you are ten times sweeter to look
at than the prettiest girl there, if she had three or even four ears. A
girl with three ears! Only think, Mandane, where could the third ear
grow?"
How heartily he laughed, and how glad he was to have hit on this jest and
have turned off a subject which might so well be painful to her! But his
mirth failed of its effect, and only brought a silent smile to her lips.
Even this died quickly away, and in its place there came such a sad,
pathetic expression, as she hung her pretty head, that he could neither
carry on the joke nor reproach her sharply. He said compassionately,
with a little shake of the head:
"But you must not look like that, my pigeon: I cannot bear it. What is
it that is weighing on your little soul? Courage, courage, sweetheart,
and make a clean breast of it!--But no! Do not speak. I can spare you
that! I know, poor little darling--it is that old story of the
governor's son."
She nodded, and her eyes filled with tears; and he, with a loud sigh,
exclaimed: "I thought as much, I was right, poor child!"
He took her hand, and went on bravely:
"Yes, that has given me some bad hours, too, and a great deal to think
about; in fact, I came very near to leaving you alone and spoiling my own
happiness and yours too. But I came to my senses before it was too late.
Not on account of what Dame Joanna said the day before yesterday--though
what she says must be true, and she told me that all--you know what--was
at an end. No; my own sense told me this time; for I said to myself:
Such a motherless, helpless little thing, a slave, too, and as pretty as
the angels, her master's son took a fancy to her, how could she defend
herself? And how cruelly the poor little soul was punished!--Yes, little
one, you may well weep! Why, my own eyes are full of tears. Well, so it
had to be and so it was. You and I and the Lord Almighty and the Hosts
of Heaven--who can do anything against us?--So you see that even a poor
fool like me can understand how it all came about; and I do not accuse
you, nor have I anything to forgive. It was just a dreadful misfortune.
But it has come to a good end, thank God I and I can forget it entirely
and for ever, if only you can say: 'It is all over and done with and
buried like the dead!'"
Before he could hinder her, she snatched his hand, to her lips with
passionate affection and sobbed out:
"You are so good! Oh! Rustem, there is not another man on earth so good
as you are, and my mother will bless you for it. Do what you will with
me! And I declare to you, once for all that all that is past and gone,
and only to think of it gives me horror. And it was exactly as you say:
my mother dead, no one to warn me or protect me,--I was hardly sixteen,
a simple, ignorant creature, and he called me, and it all came over me
like a dream in my sleep; and when I awoke. . . ."
"There we are," he interrupted and he tried to laugh as he wiped his
eyes. "Both laid up with holes in our heads.--And when I am in my own
country I always think the prettiest time is just when the hard winter-
frost is over, and the snow melted, and all the flowers in the valleys
rush into bloom--and so I feel now, my little girl. Everything will be
well now, we shall be so wonderfully happy. The day before yesterday, do
you know, I still was not quite clear about it all. Your trouble gave me
no peace, and it went against the grain-well, you can understand. But
then, later, when I was lying in my room and the moon shone down on my
bed. . ." and a rapt expression came into his face that strangely
beautified his harsh features, "I could not help asking myself: 'Although
the moon went down into the sea this morning, does that prevent its
shining as brightly as ever to-night, and bringing a cooler breeze?' And
if a human soul has gone under in the same way, may it not rise up again,
bright and shining, when it has bathed and rested? And such a heart--of
course every man would like to have its love all to himself, but it may
have enough to give more than once. For, as I remembered, my mother,
though she loved me dearly, when another child came and yet another gave
them the best she had to give; and I was none the worse when she had my
youngest sister at the breast, nor was she when I was petted and kissed.
And it must be just the same with you. Thought I to myself: though she
once loved another man, she may still have a good share left for me!"
"Yes, indeed, Rustem !" she exclaimed, looking tearfully but gratefully
into his eyes. "All that is in me of love and tenderness is for you--for
you only."
At this he joyfully exclaimed:
"All, that is indeed good hearing! That will do for me; that is what I
call a good morning's work! I sat down under this tree a vagabond and a
wanderer, and I get up a future land-holder, with the sweetest little
wife in the world to keep house for me."
They sat a long time under the shady foliage; he craved no more than to
gaze at her and, when he put the old questions asked by all lovers, to be
answered with lips and eyes, or merely a speechless nod. Her hands no
longer plied the needle, and the pair would have smiled in pity on any
one who should have complained of the intolerable heat of this scorching,
parching forenoon. A pair of turtle doves over their heads were less
indifferent to the sun's rays than they, for the birds had closed their
eyes, and the head of the mother bird was resting languidly against the
dark collar round her mate's neck.
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Better place if there were neither masters nor servants
See with agonizing clearness what he had lost in her