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The Purple Cloud

Page 33

by M. P. Shiel

many odd things turned upwhich I thought that I would take with me, that it was not till near sixthat I drove finally northward through Camden Town. And now an ineffableawe possessed my soul at the solemn noise which everywhere encompassedme, an ineffable awe, a blissful terror. Never, never could I havedreamed of aught so great and potent. All above my head there rushedsouthward with wide-spread wing of haste a sparkling smoke; and mixedwith the immense roaring I heard mysterious hubbubs of tumblings andrumblings, which I could not at all comprehend, like the moving-about offurniture in the houses of Titans; while pervading all the air was amost weird and tearful sound, as it were threnody, and a wild wail ofpain, and dying swan-songs, and all lamentations and tribulations of theworld. Yet I was aware that, at an hour so early, the flames must be farfrom general; in fact, they had not well commenced.

  * * * * *

  As I had left a good semicircular region of houses, with a radius offour hundred yards, without combustibles to the south of the isolatedhouse which I was to occupy, and as the wind was so strongly from thenorth, I simply left my two vehicles at the door of the house, withoutfear of any injury: nor did any occur. I then went up to the top of thetower, lit the candles, and ate voraciously of the dinner which I hadleft ready, for since the morning I had taken nothing; and then, withhands and heart that quivered, I arranged the clothes of the lowspring-bed upon which to throw my frame in the morning hours. Oppositethe wall, where lay the bed, was a Gothic window, pretty large, with lowsill, hung with poppy-figured muslin, and looking directly south, sothat I could recline at ease in the red-velvet easy-chair, and see. Ithad evidently been a young lady's room: for on the toilette werecut-glass bottles, a plait of brown hair, powders, _rouge-aux-levres,_one little bronze slipper, and knick-knacks, and I loved her and hatedher, though I did not see her anywhere. About half-past eight I sat atthe window to watch, all being arranged and ready at my right hand, thecandles extinguished in the red room: for the theatre was opened, wasopened: and the atmosphere of this earth seemed turned into Hell, andHell was in my soul.

  * * * * *

  Soon after midnight there was a sudden and very visible increase in theconflagration. On all hands I began to see blazing structures soar, withgrand hurrahs, on high. In fives and tens, in twenties and thirties, allbetween me and the remote limit of my vision, they leapt, they lingeredlong, they fell. My spirit more and more felt, and danced--deepermysteries of sensation, sweeter thrills. I sipped exquisitely, I drewout enjoyment leisurely. Anon, when some more expansive angel of flamewould arise from the Pit with steady aspiration, and linger withoutspread arms, and burst, I would lift a little from the chair, leaningforward to clap, as at some famous acting; or I would call to them inshouts of cheer, giving them the names of Woman. For now I seemed to seenothing but some bellowing pandemonic universe through crimson glasses,and the air was wildly hot, and my eye-balls like theirs that walkstaring in the inner midst of burning fiery furnaces, and my skin itchedwith a fierce and prickly itch. Anon I touched the chords of the harp tothe air of Wagner's 'Walkueren-ritt.'

  Near three in the morning, I reached the climax of my guilty sweets. Mydrunken eye-lids closed in a luxury of pleasure, and my lips laystretched in a smile that dribbled; a sensation of dear peace, ofalmighty power, consoled me: for now the whole area which throughstreaming tears I surveyed, mustering its ten thousand thunders, andbrawling beyond the stars the voice of its southward-rushing torment,billowed to the horizon one grand Atlantic of smokeless and flushingflame; and in it sported and washed themselves all the fiends of Hell,with laughter, shouts, wild flights, and holiday; and I--first of myrace--had flashed a signal to the nearer planets....

  * * * * *

  * * * * *

  Those words: 'signal to the nearer planets' I wrote nearly fourteenmonths ago, some days after the destruction of London, I being then onboard the old _Boreal_, making for the coast of France: for the nightwas dark, though calm, and I was afraid of running into some ship, yetnot sleepy, so I wrote to occupy my fingers, the ship lying still. Thebook in which I wrote has been near me: but no impulse to write anythinghas visited me, till now I continue; not, however, that I have very muchto put down.

  I had no intention of wearing out my life in lighting fires everymorning to warm myself in the inhospitable island of Britain, and setout to France with the view of seeking some palace in the Riviera,Spain, or perhaps Algiers, there, for the present at least, to make myhome.

  I started from Calais toward the end of April, taking my things along,the first two days by train, and then determining that I was in nohurry, and a petrol motor easier, took one, and maintained a generallysouthern and somewhat eastern direction, ever-anew astonished at thewildness of the forest vegetation which, within so short a space sincethe disappearance of man, chokes this pleasant land, even before thedefinite advent of summer.

  After three weeks of very slow travelling--for though I know severalcountries very well, France with her pavered villages, hilly character,vines, forests, and primeval country-manner, is always new and charmingto me--after three weeks I came unexpectedly to a valley which had neverentered my head; and the moment that I saw it, I said: 'Here I willlive,' though I had no idea what it was, for the monastery which I sawdid not look at all like a monastery, according to my ideas: but when Isearched the map, I discovered that it must be La Chartreuse deVauclaire in Perigord.

  It is my belief that this word 'Vauclaire' is nothing else than acorruption of the Latin _Vallis Clara,_ or Bright Valley, for _l'_s and_u'_s did interchange about in this way, I remember: _cheval_ becoming_chevau(x)_ in the plural, like 'fool' and 'fou,' and the rest: whichproves the dear laziness of French people, for the 'l' was too muchtrouble for them to sing, and when they came to _two_ 'l's' they quitesuccumbed, shying that vault, or vo_u_te, and calling it some _y_. Butat any rate, this Vauclaire, or Valclear, was well named: for here, ifanywhere, is Paradise, and if anyone knew how and where to build andbrew liqueurs, it was those good old monks, who followed their Masterwith _entrain_ in that Cana miracle, and in many other things, I fancy,but aesthetically shirked to say to any mountain: 'Be thou removed.'

  * * * * *

  The general hue of the vale is a deep cerulean, resembling that blue ofthe robes of Albertinelli's Madonnas; so, at least, it strikes the eyeon a clear forenoon of spring or summer. The monastery consists of anoblong space, or garth, around three sides of which stand sixteen smallhouses, with regular intervals between, all identical, the cells of thefathers; between the oblong space and the cells come the cloisters, withonly one opening to the exterior; in the western part of the oblong isa little square of earth under a large cypress-shade, within which, asin a home of peace, it sleeps: and there, straight and slanting, standlittle plain black crosses over graves....

  To the west of the quadrangle is the church, with the hostelry, and anasphalted court with some trees and a fountain; and beyond, theentrance-gate.

  All this stands on a hill of gentle slope, green as grass; and it isbacked close against a steep mountain-side, of which the tree-trunks areconjectural, for I never saw any, the trees resembling rather onecontinuous leafy tree-top, run out high and far over the extent of themountain.

  * * * * *

  I was there four months, till something drove me away. I do not knowwhat had become of the fathers and brothers, for I only found five, fourof whom I took in two journeys in the motor beyond the church of SaintMartial d'Artenset, and left them there; and the fifth remained threeweeks with me, for I would not disturb him in his prayer. He was abearded brother of forty years or thereabouts, who knelt in his cellrobed and hooded in all his phantom white: for in no way different fromwhatever is most phantom, visionary and eerie must a procession of thesepeople have seemed by gloaming, or dark night This particular brotherknelt, I say, in his small chaste room, glaring upward at h
is Christ,who hung long-armed in a little recess between the side of three narrowbookshelves and a projection of the wall; and under the Christ a giltand blue Madonna; the books on the three shelves few, leaning differentways. His right elbow rested on a square plain table, at which was awooden chair; behind him, in a corner, the bed: a bed all enclosed indark boards, a broad perpendicular board along the foot, reaching theceiling, a horizontal board at the side over which he got into bed,another narrower one like it at the ceiling for fringe and curtain, andanother perpendicular one hiding the pillow, making the clean bed withina very shady and cosy little den, on the wall of this den being anothersmaller Christ and a little picture. On the perpendicular board at thefoot hung two white garments, and over a second chair at the bed-sideanother: all very neat and holy. He was a large stern man, blond ascorn, but with some red, too, in his hairy beard; and appalling was

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