De stille kracht. English

by Louis Couperus

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Mrs. van Oudijck had promised to stay at Patjaram a few days longer;and she disliked the prospect, really not feeling quite at home inthese old-fashioned Indian surroundings. But when Addie appearedshe thought better of it. In the deepest secrecy of her heart thiswoman worshipped her sensuality, as in the temple of her egoism:here the milk-white creole offered up all the most intimate dreamsof her rosy imagination and unquenchable longing; and in this cultshe had achieved as it were an art, a knowledge, a science, that ofdeciding, for herself, at a glance, what it was that attracted herin the man who approached her, in the man who passed her by. In oneit was his bearing, his voice; in another it was the set of his neckon his shoulders; in a third it was the way his hand rested on hisknee; but, whatever it was, she saw it directly, at a glance; sheknew it immediately, in an instant; she had judged the passer-byin an indivisible moment; and she at once knew those whom sherejected--they were the majority--and those whom she approved--theywere many. And the few whom she rejected in that indivisible momentof her supreme judgement, with that single glance, in that singleinstant, need cherish no hope: she, the priestess, did not admit themto the temple. To the others, the temple was open, but only behindthe curtain of her conventionality. However shameless, she was alwayscorrect, her love was always secret; to the world, she was nothing butthe charming, smiling wife of the resident, a little indolent in herways, but winning everybody with her smile. When people did not seeher, they spoke ill of her; when they saw her, she conquered them atonce. Among all of those with whom she shared the secret of her lovethere reigned a certain freemasonry, a mystery of worship; scarcely,when two of them met, would they whisper a word or two, at a similarrecollection. And Leonie could sit smiling, milk-white, tranquil,in the great circle, around the marble table, with at least two orthree men who knew her secret. It did not disturb her tranquillity normar her smile. She smiled to the pitch of boredom. Scarcely would herglance glide from one to the other, while she judged them once again,with her infallible knack of judgement. Scarcely would the memoriesof past hours rise hazily within her, scarcely would she think ofthe assignation for the following day. The secret lay wholly inthe mystery of the meeting and indeed was never uttered before theprofane world. If a foot in the circle sought to touch her foot, shedrew hers away. She never flirted; she was even sometimes a littletedious, stiff, correct, smiling. In the freemasonry between herselfand the initiated she disclosed the mystery; but, before the world,in the circles about the marble tables, she vouchsafed not a glance,not a pressure of the hand or knee.

  She had been bored during these days at Patjaram, for which she hadaccepted the invitation to the milling-feast because she had refusedit in past years; but now that she saw Addie approaching she was boredno longer. Of course she had known him for years; and she had seenhim grow from a child into a boy, into a man; and she had kissed himeven as a boy. She had long ago judged him, the tempter. But now, ashe came forward with his halo of sunshine, she judged him once more:his comely, slender animalism and the glow of his tempter's eyesin the dusky brown of his young Moorish face; the pouting curves ofhis lips, formed for kissing, with the young down of his moustache;the tigerish strength and litheness of limbs which Don Juan might haveenvied: it all dazzled her, made her blink her eyes. As he greeted hismother's visitors and sat down, a volley of wordy gaiety ran roundthat circle of languid conversation and drowsy thoughts, as thoughhe were casting a handful of his sunshine, of the gold-dust of histemptation over them all, over all those women, mother and sistersand nieces and Doddie and Leonie van Oudijck. Leonie looked at him,as they all looked at him, and her glance fell upon his hands. Shecould have kissed those hands of his; she suddenly became smittenwith the shape of his fingers, with the brown, tigerish strengthof the hands themselves: she suddenly became smitten with all theyoung wild-animal vigour which breathed like a fragrance of manhoodfrom the whole of his boyish frame. She felt her blood throbbing,almost uncontrollably, despite her great art of remaining cool andcorrect in the circles around the marble tables. But she was no longerbored. She had found an object to fill the next few days. Only ... herblood throbbed so violently that Theo had noticed her blush and thequivering of her eyelids. Enamoured of her as he was, his eyes hadpenetrated her soul. And, when they rose to go to lunch in the backverandah, where the babus had been squatting, grinding everybody'sdifferent admixture of spices with pestles, in little stone mortars,he whispered two words between his teeth:

  "Take care!"

  She started; she felt that he was threatening her. This had neverhappened before: all who had shared in the mystery had alwaysrespected her. She started so violently, she was so indignant at thiswrenching away of the temple-curtain, in a verandah full of people,that her tranquil indifference seethed with anger and she was rousedto rebellion in her ever-serene self-mastery. But she looked at him andshe saw him broad and tall and fair, a younger edition of her husband,his Indian blood showing only in his sensuous mouth; and she did notwant to lose him: she wanted to preserve his type beside the type ofthe Moorish tempter. She wanted them both; she wanted to taste thedifferent charm of their respective types, that white-skinned Dutchtype, so very slightly Indian, and Addie's wild-animal type. Her soulquivered, her blood thrilled, while the long array of dishes wassolemnly handed round. She was in a revolt such as she had neverexperienced before. The awakening from her placid indifferencewas like a rebirth, like an unknown emotion. She was surprised toremember that she, at thirty, was feeling for the first time. Afeverish depravity blossomed up within her, as though bursting intoheady crimson flowers. She looked at Doddie, sitting beside Addie:the poor child, glowing with love, was hardly able to eat.... Oh,the tempter, who had only to appear!... And Leonie, in this fever ofdepravity, rejoiced at being the rival of a step-daughter so many yearsyounger than herself. She would look after her; she would even warn VanOudijck. Would it ever come to a match? What did she care: what harmcould marriage do to her, Leonie? Oh, the tempter! Never had she dreamtof him thus, the supreme lover, in her rosy hours of siesta! This wasno charm of little cherubs; this was the stark radiance of tigerishenchantment: the golden glitter of his eyes, the sinewy litheness ofhis stealthy paw.... And she smiled at Theo, with just one glance ofself-surrender, a very exceptional thing at the luncheon-table. Asa rule she gave nothing of herself in public. Now she surrenderedherself, for a moment, pleased by his jealousy. She was madly fondof him too. She thought it delightful, that he should look pale andangry with jealousy. And round about her the afternoon was one blazeof sunlight and the hot spices stung her dry palate. Faint beads ofperspiration stood on her forehead and trickled down her bosom underthe lace of her kabaai. And she would fain have clasped them both,Theo and Addie, in one embrace, in one blending of different lusts,pressing them both to her amorous woman's body....