Three Weeks

by Elinor Glyn

  CHAPTER XIII

  Do you know the Belvedere at the Rigi Kaltbad, looking over the corner toa vast world below, on a fair day in May, when the air is clear as crystaland the lake ultra-marine? When the Bernese Oberland undulates away inunbroken snow, its pure whiteness like cold marble, the shadows grey-blue?

  Have you seen the tints of the beeches, of the pines, of the firs,clinging like some cloak of life to the hoary-headed mountains, a reminderthat spring is eternal, and youth must have its day, however grey beardsand white heads may frown?

  Ah--it is good!

  And so is the air up there. Hungry and strong and--young.

  Paul and his lady stood and looked down in rapt silence. It was givingher, as she said, an emotion, but of what sort he was not sure. They wereall alone. No living soul was anywhere in view.

  She had been in a mood, all day when she seldom raised her eyes. Itreminded him of the first time he had seen her, and wonder grew again inhis mind. All the last night her soul had seemed melted into his in afusion of tenderness and trust, exalted with the exquisite thought of thewish which was between them. And he had felt at last he had fathomed itsinmost recess.

  But to-day, as he gazed down at her white-rose paleness, the heavy lashesmaking their violet shadow on her cheek--her red mouth mutinous andfull--the conviction came back to him that there were breadths and depthsand heights about which he had no conception even. And an ice handclutched his heart. Of what strange thing was she thinking? leaning overthe parapet there, her delicate nostrils quivering now and then.

  "Paul," she said at last, "did you ever want to kill any one? Did you everlong to have them there at your mercy, to choke their life out and throwthem to hell?"

  "Good God, no!" said Paul aghast.

  Then at last she looked up at him, and her eyes were black with hate."Well, I do, Paul. I would like to kill one man on earth--a useless,vicious weakling, too feeble to deserve a fine death--a rotting carrionspoiling God's world and encumbering my path! I would kill him if Icould--and more than ever today."

  "Oh, my Queen, my Queen!" said Paul, distressed. "Don't say suchthings--you, my own tender woman and love--"

  "Yes, that is one side of me, and the best--but there is another, which hedraws forth, and that is the worst. You of calm England do not know whatit means--the true passion of hate."

  "Can I do nothing for you, beloved?" Paul asked. Here was a phase which hehad not yet seen.

  "Ah!" she said, bitterly, and threw up her head. "No! his high placeprotects him. But for his life I would conquer all fate."

  "Darling, darling--" said Paul, who knew not what to say.

  "But, Paul, if a hair of your head should be hurt, I would kill him myselfwith these my own hands."

  Once Paul had seen two tigers fight in a travelling circus-van which cameto Oxford, and now the memory of the scene returned to him when he lookedat his lady's face. He had not known a human countenance could expresssuch fierce, terrible rage. A quiver ran through him. Yes, this was noidle boast of an angry woman--he felt those slender hands would indeed becapable of dealing death to any one who robbed her of her mate.

  But what passion was here! What force! He had somehow never even dreamtsuch feelings dwelt in women--or, indeed, in any human creatures out ofsensational books. Yet, gazing there at her, he dimly understood that inhimself, too, they could rise, were another to take her from him. Yes, hecould kill in suchlike case.

  They were silent for some moments, each vibrating with passionatethoughts; and then the lady leant over and laid her cheek against thesleeve of his coat.

  "Heart of my heart," she said, "I frighten and ruffle you. The women ofyour country are sweet and soft, but they know not the passion I know, myPaul--the fierceness and madness of love--"

  Paul clasped her in his arms.

  "It makes me worship you more, my Queen," he said. "Englishwomen wouldseem like wax dolls now beside you and your exquisite face--they willnever again be anything but shadows in my life. It can only hold you, theone goddess and Queen."

  Her eyes were suffused with a mist of tenderness, the passion was gone;her head was thrown back against his breast, when suddenly her handinadvertently touched against the pocket where Dmitry's pistol lay. Shestarted violently, and before he could divine her purpose she snatched theweapon out, and held it up to the light.

  Her face went like death, and for a second she leant against the parapetas if she were going to faint.

  "Paul," she gasped with white lips, "this is Dmitry's pistol. I know itwell. How did you come by it?--tell me, beloved. If he gave it to you,then it means danger, Paul--danger--"

  "My darling," said Paul, in his strong young pride "fear nothing, I shallnever leave you. I will protect you from any danger in the world, onlydepend upon me, sweetheart. Nothing can hurt you while I am here."

  "Do you think I care a _sou_ for my life?" she said, while she stoodstraight up again with the majesty of a queen. "Do you think I feared forme--for myself? Oh! no, my own lover, never that! They can kill me whenthey choose, but they won't; it is you for whom I fear. Only your dangercould make me cower, no other in the whole world."

  Paul laughed with joy at her speech. "There is nothing to fear at allthen, darling," he said. "I can take care of myself, you know. I am anEnglishman."

  And even in the tumult of her thoughts the lady found time to smile withtender amusement at the young insular arrogance of his last words. AnEnglishman, forsooth! Of course that meant a kind of god untouched by thefailings of other nations. A great rush of pride in him came over her andgladdened her. He was indeed a splendid picture of youth and strength, ashe stood there, the sunlight gilding his fair hair, and all themagnificent proportions of his figure thrown into relief against thebackground of grey stone and sky, an _insouciante_ smile on his lips, andall the light of love and self-confidence in his fine blue eyes.

  She responded to the fire in them, and appeared to grow comforted and atpeace. But all the way back through the wood to the Kalibad Hotel sheglanced furtively into the shadows, while she talked gaily as she heldPaul's arm.

  And he never asked her a question as to where she expected the danger tocome from. No anxiety for his own safety troubled him one jot--indeed, anunwonted extra excitement flooded his veins, making him enjoy himself withan added zest.

  Dmitry as usual awaited them at the hotel; his face was serene, but whenPaul's back was turned for a moment while he lit a cigarette, the ladyquestioned her servant with whispered fierceness in the Russian tongue.Apparently his answer was satisfactory, for she looked relieved, andpresently, seated on the terrace, they had a merry tea--the last theywould have on mountain tops, for she broke it gently to Paul that on themorrow she must return to Lucerne. Paul felt as if his heart had stoppedbeating. Return to Lucerne! O God! not to part--surely not to part--sosoon!

  "No, no," she said, the thought making her whiten too. "Oh no! my Paul,not that--yet!"

  Ah--he could bear anything if it did not mean parting, and he used noarguments to dissuade her. She was his Queen and must surely know best.Only he listened eagerly for details of how matters could be arrangedthere. Alas! they could never be the same as this glorious time they hadhad.

  "You must wait two days, sweetheart," she said, "before you follow me.Stay still in our nest if you will, but do not come on to Lucerne."

  "I could not stand it," said Paul. "Oh! darling, don't kill me with achingfor your presence two whole days! It is a lifetime! not to be endured--"

  "Impatient one!" she laughed softly. "No--neither could I bear not to seeyou, sweetheart, but we must not be foolish. You must stay on in our roomsand each morning I will meet you somewhere in the launch. Dmitry knowsevery inch of the lake, and we can pass most of days thus,happy at last--"

  "But the nights!" said Paul, deep distress in his voice. "What on earth doyou think I can do with the nights?"

  "Spend them in sleep, my beloved one," the lady said, while she smiled asoft fine smile.

 
But to Paul this idea presented the poorest compensation--and in spite ofhis will to the contrary his thoughts flew ahead for an instant to theinevitable days and nights when--Ah! no, he could not face the picture.Life would be finished for him when that time came.

  The thought of only a temporary parting on the morrow made them clingtogether for this, their last evening, with almost greater closeness andtenderness than usual. Paul could hardly bear his lady out of his sight,even while she dressed for dinner, when they got back to the Buergenstock,and twice he came to the door and asked plaintively how long she would be,until Anna took pity on him, and implored to be allowed to ask him to comein while she finished her mistress's hair. And that was a joy to Paul! Hesat there by the dressing-table, and played with the things, opening thelids of gold boxes, and sniffing bottles of scent with an air of right andpossession which made his lady smile like a purring cat. Then he tried onher rings, but they would only go on to the second joint of his littlefinger, as he laughingly showed her--and finally he pushed Anna aside, andinsisted upon putting the last touches himself to the glorious waves ofblack hair.

  And all the while he teased the maid, and chaffed her in infamous French,to her great delight, while his lady looked at him, whole wells oftenderness deep in her eyes. Paul had adorable ways when he chose. Nowonder both mistress and maid should worship him.

  The moon was growing larger, her slender contours more developed, and thestars seemed fainter and farther off. Nothing more exquisite could bedreamed of, thought Paul, than the view from their balcony windows, thelight on the silver snows. And he would let no thought that it was thelast night they would see it together mar the passionate joy of the hoursstill to be. His lady had never been more sweet; it was as if this waywardUndine had at last found her soul, and lay conquered and unresisting inher lover's strong arms.

  Thus in perfect peace and happiness they; passed their last night on theBuergenstock.