The Undying Past Part 67

The autumn wind moaned against the leaden cas.e.m.e.nts of the church windows. It made a sort of plaintive, whimpering melody--almost like the whimper of a penitent soul; and when a faint ray of suns.h.i.+ne found its way into the gloomy edifice, it pointed at once a didactic finger at the words which held out hopes of a churchyard solace--

"Peace be with you."

He stretched his limbs and leaned back, and as he did so he heard behind him, scarcely a foot from his ear, a low, soft, bitter weeping; such weeping as comes only from the heart of little children or love-sick women.

He shuddered. A wave of stupid pity, which made him vexed with himself, pa.s.sed over him and seemed to soften him towards her. In another moment he would have turned round to whisper a word of comfort. But then Ulrich's voice was heard saying, in affectionate remonstrance, "Pull yourself together, dear child." And at the sound Leo became frozen again.

But the sobbing continued. Tender and ingratiating, like an oft-repeated question, it got on his nerves and penetrated to his soul.

"Oh, that I might be left in peace," a voice within him cried. "Alone with my G.o.d."

But the woman was there, and there she would stay, sucking from his heart with her sobs all his calmness and strength of purpose.

"Leo!" his mother whispered warningly in his ear.

"What is it?"

"Stand up. It's the bidding prayer."

He dragged himself on to his feet. The voice of the superintendent came from the chancel in a subdued sing-song--

"Jesus, Bread of Life, grant that we come to this Thy table not in vain, or to the injury of our soul."

"Let us hope so," thought Leo; and a desperate doubt as to his own worthiness shot sharply through him.

The first service was over, and the stream of wors.h.i.+ppers moved towards the doors--only the communicants stayed in their places.

Felicitas kept her head buried in her prayer-book, but the rebellious little rings of gold hair on her forehead could be seen glittering through her c.r.a.pe veil. Ulrich seemed to be lost in deepest meditation.

Then, as he met Leo's glance, his face cleared. He blinked twice with his short, tired lids, and infinite affection and confidence radiated from beneath them.

The church had emptied itself. The minister re-appeared in front of the altar, and read the prayer of invitation from a large, flat book which he moved to and fro in his hands. Then he lifted the folded serviette from the sacred vessels, which were set out on the right-hand corner of the altar.

Every one rose to draw near the Lord's table. The altar was surrounded by a bal.u.s.trade covered with red baize, and at the foot there was a praying stool. Leo, without lifting his eyes, offered his arm to his mother, and walked with her, leading Elly on the other side, up the steps of the choir. Ulrich and his wife followed close behind.

Johanna and her step-daughter hung back a few paces. Hertha bit her veil and clung to her mother's arm. At the bottom step she reeled and nearly fell. They knelt down on the circular stool. To Leo's left were two vacant places, and Ulrich was on the point of taking the one next him, when at the last moment Felicitas, letting go her husband's arm, pushed herself between the two men.

Leo perspired with horror. He felt as if he must spring up and flee, but that would never have done. He daren't move an inch, and was forced to submit quietly to her skirts overlapping him, and the upper part of her arm resting warmly against his.

The administering of the sacrament began. "Take and eat; this is My body." Two lean, apparently interminable fingers, on one of which flashed a wedding-ring, came in contact with Leo's mouth. He took the sacred morsel and thought, "At least I shall not share that with her."

The minister went on murmuring, as he gave the bread to each, the portion of a sentence, "which was given for you ... do this in memory of Me." And as there were fifteen people gathered round the altar at the same time he began again. "Take and eat; this is My body."

Leo gazed fixedly at the silver embroidered cross in the middle of the altar-cloth. He could almost have counted the threads, it seemed so near. On the bottom part of it there was a spot of grease which dimmed its l.u.s.tre.

"Perhaps it, too, is blood," Leo thought.

The arm that pressed against him began to tremble as if it wanted the pressure returned. At that moment the minister took hold of the chalice and lifted it high above his head. A ray of sun s.h.i.+ning through the painted window was reflected in the golden body of the cup, and it flashed forth a bluish flame.

"Take this and drink." The cup was being held to Ulrich's lips. "This is My blood----"

And now it was Felicitas who was drinking from it. "She is drinking my blood, too," thought Leo. With a slight swing the cup was withdrawn from her and it approached his own mouth. A dark mist blinded him. The sharp edge, as it knocked against his teeth, was still warm from lips which had just rested on it. The pungent wine was flowing into his mouth, and with a shudder he swallowed it.

Then in a lightning flash he saw what he had done. He had eaten and drunk d.a.m.nation, and he deserved to be cast out for ever from the community of Christians. For in drinking the sacred blood he had drunk her kisses.

XXIX

Winter came suddenly in the first days of December. The world lay hidden in snow, and the ruts of the roads wound over the great white plain like black ribbons. A sky resembling a smoky ceiling hung low over the earth, and the twilight of night seemed to fall before the day had properly begun.

The months from December to March are, as a rule, a period of rest and recreation for the country squire. He is now at liberty to enjoy social pleasures, take trips to the capital or travel in Italy. He may drink and gamble, or if his tastes are cultured he can order from his bookseller the latest novels and the newest sensation in current literature.

But none of these things had any attraction for Leo. He didn't care to a.s.sociate with the neighbouring families, for he knew that matchmaking mammas regard, him as a catch. He was sick of travelling. It would have been a herculean task to get drunk, as he required so much to bring about that happy condition, and at Monte Carlo he had played so high that his empty coffers, as a memorial of his losses, warned him against further gaming. As for reading, he had neither the taste nor the powers of concentration necessary for enjoying it. Even the consolation of sport was denied him, for the big game of the prairies had spoilt him for partridge shooting.

Nothing remained but to do what turned up next, and to amuse himself according to the whim of the moment. And all the time longing devoured him. Yes, he could no more hide it from himself, he longed for her.

He had not met her since the ceremony of taking the Sacrament.

Afterwards he had torn away as if hunted by demons, without shaking Ulrich's hand, without heeding his people's looks of hurt surprise. He had wanted to get away as quickly as possible from the perfume that she exhaled, away from the questioning eye of his friend, away from the house of G.o.d, whose gift of grace had been transformed for him into a curse. "For whoso eateth and drinketh unworthily, eateth and drinketh his own d.a.m.nation."

So ran the text in the Bible which he had once learnt at school, and which now was brought home to him with such terrifying force.

Gradually, however, he had come to a calmer state of mind. Religious brooding was so foreign to his nature that he succeeded in throwing off the consciousness of being d.a.m.ned eternally. And yet on that day he had lost his last hold on his old happy-go-lucky will. Henceforth he lay more or less under the ban of a dull depression, which threatened to build a barrier between him and his fellow-creatures. Ulrich had been in Berlin a month, and during that month Leo had not set foot in Uhlenfelde.

"Don't go near her," was now, as it had been five months ago, the upshot of his wisest reflections, but the resolve which then had had its foundation in a courageous and vigorous character, was now prompted by weakness and fear.

He avoided, too, a.s.sociating with any of the inmates of his house, except at meals. He saw plainly how much they were estranged from him.

Johanna scarcely noticed him; Elly was frightened of him; and Hertha defiant; even his beloved old mother had no longer the heart to force him into conversation. Never, indeed, had there been a sadder Advent time at Halewitz.

The sixteenth of December had always been a high feast-day in the annals of the county gentry, for it was Frau von Stolt's birthday. She did not send out invitations, but took it as a personal insult if people did not come on that day without.

Leo felt that he would be bound to put in an appearance at Stoltenhof, or risk a feud with his neighbours. He did not expect that _she_ would be there, as Ulrich was still away, but at the bare possibility his heart seemed to jump into his throat.

There was a scurrying up and down the corridors, banging of doors without end; for the two "chicks" were going to their first dance to-day, so the whole household was in a fever of excitement.

At dusk grandmamma came into Leo's study, her bosom bristling with pins.

"Won't you, for once, drive with us to-night, dear son?" she asked.

"No."

"Johanna is not going."

"Still I say no."

"Leo!" With her hands folded and gulping back her tears, she came and stood close to him.

"What is it, mother?"