The Purple Cloud

by M. P. Shiel

believe that she lives and sleeps under the instrument, as I herelive and sleep, sleep and live, under it. My instrument is quite nearone of the harbour-windows, so that, hearing her, I can gaze out towardher over the expanse of waters, yet see her not; and she, too, lookingover the sea toward me, can hear a voice from the azure depths ofnowhere, yet see me not.

  * * * * *

  I this morning early to her:

  'Good morning! Are you there?'

  'Good morning! No: I am there,' says she.

  'Well, that was what I asked--"are you there"?'

  'But I not here, I am there,' says she.

  'I know very well that you are not "here,"' said I, 'for I do not seeyou: but I asked if you were there, and you say "No," and then "Yes."'

  'It is the paladox of the heart,' says she.

  'The what?'

  'The paladox,' says she.

  'But still I do not understand: how can you be both there and notthere?'

  'If my ear is here, and I elsewhere?' says she.

  'An operation?'

  'Yes!' says she.

  'What doctor?'

  'A specialist!' says she.

  'An ear-specialist?'

  'A heart!' says she.

  'And you let a heart-specialist operate on your ear?'

  'On myself he operlated, and left the ear behind!' says she.

  'Well, and how are you after it?'

  'Fairly well. Are you?' says she.

  'Quite well. Did you sleep well?'

  'Except when you lang me up at midnight. I have had such a dleam ...'

  'What?'

  'I dleamed that I saw two little boys of the same age--only I could notsee their faces, I never can see anybody's face, only yours and mine,mine and yours always--of the same age--playing in a wood....'

  'Ah, I hope that one of them was not called Cain, my poor girl.'

  'Not at all! neither of them! Suppose I tell a stoly, and say that onewas called Caius and the other Tibelius, or one John and the otherJesus?'

  'Ah. Well, tell me the _dleam_....'

  'Now you do not deserve.'

  'Well, what will you do to-day?'

  'I? It is a lovely day ... have you nice weather in England?'

  'Very.'

  'Well, between eleven and twelve I will go out and gather Spling-flowersin the park, and cover the salon deep, deep. Wouldn't you like to behere?'

  'Not I.'

  'You would!'

  'Why should I? I prefer England.'

  'But Flance is nice too: and Flance wants to be fliends with England,and is waiting, oh waiting, for England to come over, and be fliends.Couldn't some _lapplochement_ be negotiated?'

  'Good-bye. This talking spoils my morning smoke....'

  So we speak together across the sea, my God.

  * * * * *

  On the morning of the 8th April, when I had been separated thirteenweeks from her, I boarded several ships in the Inner Port, a lunacy inmy heart, and selected what looked like a very swift boat, one of thesmaller Atlantic air-steamers called the _Stettin_, which seemed torequire the least labour in oiling, &c., in order to fit her for thesea: for the boat in which I had come to England was a mere tub, thoughsound, and I pined for the wings of a dove, that I might fly away toher, and be at rest.

  I toiled with fluttering hands that day, and I believe that I was of thecolour of ashes to my very lips. By half-past two o'clock I wasfinished, and by three was coasting down Southampton Water by NetleyHospital and the Hamble-mouth, having said not one word about anythingat the telephone, or even to my own guilty heart not a word. But in thesilent depths of my being I felt this fact: that this must be a 35-knotboat, and that, if driven hard, hard, in spite of the heavy garment ofseaweed which she trailed, she would do 30; also that Havre was 120miles away, and at 7 P.M. I should be on its quay.

  And when I was away, and out on the bright and breezy sea, I called toher, crying out: '_I am coming!_' And I knew that she heard me, and thather heart leapt to meet me, for mine leapt, too, and felt her answering.

  The sun went down: it set. I was tired of the day's work, and ofstanding at the high-set wheel; and I could not yet see the coast ofFrance. And a thought smote me, and after another ten minutes I turnedthe ship's head back, my face screwed with pain, God knows, like a manwhose thumbs are ground between the screws, and his body drawn out andout on the rack to tenuous length, and his flesh massacred with pincers:and I fell upon the floor of the bridge contorted with anguish: for Icould not go to her. But after a time that paroxysm passed, and I roseup sullen and resentful, and resumed my place at the wheel, steeringback for England: for a fixed resolve was in my breast, and I said: 'Ohno, no more. If I could bear it, I would, I would ... but if it isimpossible, how can I? To-morrow night as the sun sets--without fail--sohelp me God--I will kill myself.'

  * * * * *

  So it is finished, my good God.

  On the early morning of the next day, the 9th, I having come back toPortsmouth about eleven the previous night, when I bid her 'Goodmorning' through the telephone, she said 'Good morning,' and not anotherword. I said:

  'I got my hookah-bowl broken last night, and shall be trying to mend itto-day.'

  No answer.

  'Are you there?' said I.

  'Yes,' says she.

  'Then why don't you answer?' said I.

  'Where were you all yesterday?' says she.

  'I went for a little cruise in the basin,' said I.

  Silence for three minutes: then she says:

  'What is the matter?'

  'Matter?' said I, 'nothing!'

  '_Tell me!_' she says--with such an intensity and rage, as to make meshudder.

  'There is nothing to tell, Leda!'

  'Oh, but how can you be so _cluel_ to me?' she cries, and ah, there wasanguish in that voice! 'There is something to tell--there _is!_ Don't Iknow it vely well by your voice?'

  Ah, the thought took me then, how, on the morrow, she would ring, andhave no answer; and she would ring again, and have no answer; and shewould ring all day, and ring, and ring; and for ever she would ring,with white-flowing hair and the staring eye-balls of frenzy, batteringreproaches at the doors of God, and the Universe would cry back to herhowls and ravings only one eternal answer of Silence, of Silence. And asI thought of that--for very pity, for very pity, my God--I could nothelp sobbing aloud:

  'May God pity you, woman!'

  I do not know if she heard it: she _must_, I think, have heard: but noreply came; and there I, shivering like the sheeted dead, stood waitingfor her next word, waiting long, dreading, hoping for, her voice,thinking that if she spoke and sobbed but once, I should drop dead,dead, where I stood, or bite my tongue through, or shriek the high laughof distraction. But when at last, after quite thirty or forty minutesshe spoke, her voice was perfectly firm and calm. She said:

  'Are you there?'

  'Yes,' said I, 'yes, Leda.'

  'What was the color,' says she, 'of the poison-cloud which destroyed theworld?'

  'Purple, Leda,' said I.

  'And it had a smell like almonds or peach blossoms, did it not?' saysshe.

  'Yes,' said I, 'yes.'

  'Then,' says she, 'there is _another_ eruption. Every now and again Iseem to scent strange whiffs like that ... and there is a purple vapourin the East which glows and glows ... just see if you can see it....'

  I flew across the room to an east window, threw up the grimy sash, andlooked. But the view was barred by the plain brick back of a tallwarehouse. I rushed back, gasped to her to wait, rushed down the twostairs, and out upon the Hard. For a minute I ran dodging wildly about,seeking a purview to the East, and finally ran up the dockyard, behindthe storehouses to the Semaphore, and reached the top, panting for life.I looked abroad. The morning sky, but for a bank of cloud to thenorth-west, was cloudless, the sun blazing in a region of clear azurepallor. And back again I flew.

  '
I cannot see it...!' I cried.

  'Then it has not tlavelled far enough to the north-west yet,' she saidwith decision.

  'My wife!' I cried: 'you are my wife now!'

  'Am I?' says she: 'at last? Are you glad?... But shall I not soon die?'

  'No! You can escape! My home! My heart! If only for an hour or two, thendeath--just think, together--on the same couch, for ever, heart toheart--how sweet!'

  'Yes! how sweet! But how escape?'

  'It travelled slowly before. Get quick--will you?--into one of thesmaller boats by the quay--there is