The Wish Part 26

"It grew night. Like a streak of fire the last red rays of the setting sun lay over the town, the towers of which stood out black and pointed in the glow. For a long time I watched the fiery clouds, till darkness had buried them also in its lap.

"The clock struck nine. Then the old doctor came. He sat for a long time in silence on my chair, stroked my hand at parting, and said: 'Continue--carbolic--all night!' In answer to my anxiously questioning look, he had nothing but a doubtful shrug of the shoulders.

"From somewhere, two or three rooms away, I heard Robert's voice talking at the old man. This was the first sign that he too was in the proximity of the sick-bed. 'Why ever does he stay outside?' I asked myself; 'it really almost seems as if admission were prohibited.'

"The clock struck ten. Silence all around. The household seemed gone to rest.

"The wind rattled at the garden railings. It sounded as if some late guest wished to enter. Was death already creeping round the house? Was he already counting the grains of sand in his hour-gla.s.s?

"Desperate defiance seized me. Without knowing what I did, I rushed towards the door, as if to throw myself in the path of the threatening demon.

"Ill-fated creature, I, that I did not suspect what other demon sat lurking in front of that one, on the threshold!

"A few minutes later Robert entered. Not a word, not a greeting--again only that swift, scared look which once already had cut me to the quick. With his heavy, swaying gait he walked up to the bedside, grasped her hand--that hot, wasted hand, with its bluish nails--and stared down upon it. And then he sat down in the darkest corner, behind the stove, and crouched there for two long, long hours.

"With beating heart I waited for him to address me, but he was as silent as before.

"Soon after midnight he left the room. For a long time yet I heard him walking up and down outside in the corridor, and, at the m.u.f.fled sound of his tramping footsteps, another night came into my mind, when I had listened, no less trembling in fear and hope, to the same sound. Worlds lay between then and now, and the young, foolish creature who had then hearkened out into the darkness, burning with the desire to help and to sacrifice herself, now appeared to me like a strange, radiant being from some distant, s.h.i.+ning planet.

"The footsteps grew less distinct. He had gone back to his room.

"'Will he return again?' I asked myself, putting my ear to the keyhole.

'In any case he cannot sleep.' And I started joyfully when the sound once more increased.

"And then the thought came to me, 'What concern is it of yours whether he returns or not? Are you here in this place for his sake? Is not your happiness, your life, your all, lying here before you?'

"I fell down by the bedside, and, covering Martha's hands with kisses, I implored her to have mercy--that I wanted to speak to her--that it was bursting my heart-strings--that it was stifling me--that I should suffocate.

"But she did not wake. Doubled up with pain she lay there, a miserable little heap of bones. On her cheek-bones were little flaming spots. Her breath panted. Once she moved her lips as if to speak, but the words died away in a toneless gurgling.

"What a terrible silence all around! The clock ticked, along the wall by the cas.e.m.e.nt the wind pa.s.sed softly moaning, and from the other room sounded the m.u.f.fled tramp of the wanderer--all else still.

"And suddenly it seemed to me as if in this stillness I heard the blood in my own body seething and boiling. I listened. Evidently that was my blood rus.h.i.+ng wildly through my veins.

"'Why is its flow not quiet and well-behaved,' I asked myself, 'in accordance with my great resolve? Is not this sin torn out with all its roots--burnt out by a thousand purifying fires? Do I not stand here as the priestess, void of desire, pure and blessed?'

"And again I listened! These are hallucinations, I told myself, and yet I grew afraid at the gus.h.i.+ng and rus.h.i.+ng, which seemed to increase with every minute. I saw a stream which carried me away in its torrents--a stream of blood! A rock with sheer points jutted out from it. Thereon a word stood written with flaming letters, the word 'Bloodguiltiness.'

"The footsteps grew louder. I jumped up.... He came, seated himself on the pillow, wiped the perspiration from her forehead with the flat of his hand, and pa.s.sed his fingers through her hair.

"Stealthily I watched him. I hardly dared to breathe any more. His eyes gleamed bloodshot in their sockets. His lips were pressed together in bitter reproach. He sat there as if petrified with unuttered pain. The desire to approach him shook me like a fit of ague. But when I was on the point of rising, it was as if two iron fists laid themselves upon my shoulders and forced me back on to my chair.

"At length I spoke his name, and was startled, so strange, so weird did the sound of my own voice appear to me. He turned round and stared at me.

"'Robert,' I said, 'why do you not speak to me? You will feel easier if you let some one else share what is oppressing you.'

"Then he jumped up and grasped both my hands. His touch made me feel hot and cold all over. But I forced myself to keep my ground, and firmly looked into his face.

"'That is the first good word that you have vouchsafed me, Olga.' he said.

"'What do you mean by that, Robert?' I stammered. 'Have I been unkind towards you?'

"'Only unkind?' he replied. 'Like a stranger, like an intruder you have treated me, and have driven me from the bedside of my wife.'

"'Heaven forbid!' I cry, and free myself from him, for I feel I am about to sink upon his breast.

"And he continues, 'Olga, if ever I did you any wrong--I know not what, but it must be so, else your look and manner would not be so stern and forbidding towards me--if I did you any wrong, Olga, it was not my fault. I always meant well towards you. I have--you might always have been here like at home; you need never have gone among strangers; and in the presence of that one whom we both love----'

"Why must he mention her name to me? A wild joy had flamed up within me; I felt as if I had wings; then her name struck me like the cut of a whip. I bit my lips till they bled. Indeed I would be calm, would act the guardian angel.

"'Robert,' said I, 'you have been gravely mistaken about me. I never bore you any ill-will. Only I have grown reserved and defiant among strangers. You must have patience with me--must trust me. Will you?'

"Then it broke from his eyes like suns.h.i.+ne. 'I have so much to thank you for already, Olga,' he said; 'how could I do otherwise than continue to trust you? You know, since that day when we rode together into the wood, do you remember?'--ah, did I remember indeed!--'since that day I have loved you like a sister, yes, more than all my sisters.

And at the same time I looked up to you and revered you like my guardian spirit. That is indeed what you have been to me. You will be so in future, too, won't you?'

"I nodded silently, and pressed both my hands to my bosom; then, when he noticed it, I let them drop, but I staggered back three paces; it was a miracle that I kept myself upright.

"He stepped up to me in alarm. 'I am tired,' I said, and forced myself to smile. 'Come, we will sit down; the night is long yet.'

"So we both sat opposite each other at the foot of the bed, with the narrow bedstead between us, rested our arms on the ledge, and looked across at Martha's face, which moved with cramp-like twitchings. Her eyelids seemed closed, deep shadows from her lashes fell across her cheeks; but, on bending down, one could see the whites of the eyes gleaming with a faint sheen, like mother-of-pearl, in their dark sockets. He observed it too.

"'As if she had already died,' he murmured, and buried his head in his hands. 'And if she dies,' he continued, 'she will not die through the child, not through this wretched fever; through my fault alone, Olga, she will peris.h.!.+'

"'For G.o.d's sake, what are you saying?' I cried, stretching out my arms towards him.

"He nodded and smiled bitterly.

"'I have seen it very well, Olga, all through these three years; over and over again it is my fault. First, I left her longing and fearing between hope and despair for seven long years, till the strength was drained in this way from her body and soul--heaven knows she never had much to spare; and then I dragged her with her sickly body and broken spirit here into this misery, where all were hostile to her, and those most hostile who should have held her most dear. And I myself!--yes, if I myself had been brave and of good cheer, if I could have guarded her that her foot might not dash against any stone, if I had spread suns.h.i.+ne across her path, then perhaps she might have flourished at my side. But I was often rough and surly, stormed and raged in the house and the farm, never thinking how every loud word made her start, so that she already grew pale if I only frowned. Look at this little handful of life, how it lies here; and then look at me, the great, uncouth, coa.r.s.e-grained giant! Sometimes in the night when I woke, I was afraid lest I might possibly crush her in my arms. And, after all, I have crushed her! What I required was a wife, strong and----'

"He stopped short, terrified, and cast a glance, which eloquently pleaded for forgiveness, towards Martha's face, but I completed his sentence for myself.

"When he had left the room a wild feeling of joy seized me. It rushed through my head like a whirlwind; it confused my senses; my pride, my defiance, my self-respect, everything seemed to be swallowed up in it.

"The atmosphere of the sick room lay heavily upon me, like a suffocating cloth. My brain was burning with the carbolic vapours which rose up from the bowl in front of me. My breath began to fail me.

"I fled to the window, and pressing my forehead against the sash, I drank in the cold night air which found its way into the room through the c.h.i.n.ks. Morning dawned through the curtains--cold-grey--enveloped in fog.... Faintly gleaming clouds slowly heaved upwards on the horizon and threw a fallow sheen over the dripping trees, which seemed to have grown still more bare overnight.

"What a night!

"And how many, worse than this one, are about to follow? What phantoms, begotten of darkness, born in horror, will rise up before my fevered senses as the nights come on?

"s.h.i.+vering, I crept into a corner. I was afraid of myself.

"The hours of the morning pa.s.sed away, and by degrees I grew calmer.

The memory of this night, with its feverish turmoil and pangs of conscience, waxed dim. What I had experienced and felt became a dream, A leaden weariness took possession of me; I closed my eyes and thought about nothing.

"And then came a blissful hour. It was towards ten o'clock when Martha suddenly opened her faithful blue eyes and looked up at me consciously and brightly.