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The Companions of Jehu
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Roland signed to her to leave them alone, and she went away with little Edouard. Roland closed the door, and returned to his sister’s bedside with unutterable emotion.
Her body was already stiffening in death; the breath from her lips would scarcely have dimmed a mirror; the eyes only, wide-open, were fixed and brilliant, as though the whole remaining life of the body, dead before its time, were centred, there. Roland had heard of this strange state called ecstasy, which is nothing else than catalepsy. He saw that Amélie was a victim of that preliminary death.
“I am here, sister,” he said. “What can I do for you?”
“I knew you would come,” she replied, still without moving, “and I waited for you.”
“How did you know that I was coming?” asked Roland.
“I saw you coming.”
Roland shuddered.
“Did you know why I was coming?” he asked.
“Yes; I prayed God so earnestly in my heart that He gave me strength to rise and write to you.”
“When was that?”
“Last night.”
“Where is the letter?”
“Under my pillow. Take it, and read it.”
Roland hesitated an instant. Was his sister delirious?
“Poor Amélie!” he murmured.
“Do not pity me,” she said, “I go to join him.”
“Whom?” asked Roland.
“Him whom I loved, and whom you killed.”
Roland uttered a cry. This was delirium; or else – what did his sister mean?
“Amélie,” said he, “I came to question you – ”
“About Lord Tanlay; yes, I know,” replied the young girl.
“You knew! How could you know?”
“Did I not tell you I saw you coming, and knew why you came?”
“Then answer me.”
“Do not turn me from God and from him, Roland. I have written it all; read my letter.”
Roland slipped his hand beneath the pillow, convinced that his sister was delirious.
To his great astonishment he felt a paper, which he drew out. It was a sealed letter; on it were written these words: “For Roland, who will come to-morrow.”
He went over to the night-light in order to read the letter, which was dated the night before at eleven o’clock in the evening.
My brother, we have each a terrible thing to forgive the other.
Roland looked at his sister; she was still motionless. He continued to read:
I loved Charles de Sainte-Hermine; I did more than love him, he was my lover.
“Oh!” muttered the young man between his teeth, “he shall die.”
“He is dead,” said Amélie.
The young man gave a cry of astonishment. He had uttered the words to which Amélie had replied too low even to hear them himself. His eyes went back to the letter.
There was no legal marriage possible between the sister of Roland de Montrevel and the leader of the Companions of Jehu: that was the terrible secret which I bore – and it crushed me.
One person alone had to know it, and I told him; that person was Sir John Tanlay.
May God forever bless that noble-hearted man, who promised to break off an impossible marriage, and who kept his word. Let his life be sacred to you, Roland; he has been my only friend in sorrow, and his tears have mingled with mine.
I loved Charles de Saint-Hermine; I was his mistress; that is the terrible thing you must forgive.
But, in exchange, you caused his death; that is the terrible thing I now forgive you.
Oh! come fast, Roland, for I cannot die till you are here.
To die is to see him again; to die is to be with him and never to leave him again. I am glad to die.
All was clearly and plainly written; there was no sign of delirium in the letter.
Roland read it through twice, and stood for an instant silent, motionless, palpitating, full of bitterness; then pity got the better of his anger. He went to Amélie, stretched his hand over her, and said: “Sister, I forgive you.”
A slight quiver shook the dying body.
“And now,” she said, “call my mother, that I may die in her arms.”
Roland opened the door and called Madame de Montrevel. She was waiting and came at once.
“Is there any change?” she asked, eagerly.
“No,” replied Roland, “only Amélie wishes to die in your arms.”
Madame de Montrevel fell upon her knees beside her daughter’s bed.
Then Amélie, as though an invisible hand had loosened the bonds that held her rigid body to the bed, rose slowly, parted the hands that were clasped upon her breast, and let one fall slowly into those of her mother.
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Последний отзыв
В борьбе за власть есть первые; есть вторые; и есть 6ыдло (из канала BS "Без Слёз").
- Вторые всегда стремятся стать первыми. Но ресурсы власти – у п...
Далее