DeMille_The_Cryptogram.txt topic ['13', '324', '378', '393']
letters to your father."
" no! no, no," laughed ; "for did you not at once
fall in love with that ?"
the time passed. amidst these murmurs of affection, and these
explanations of vanished mysteries, caught himself
looking to the past few months at .
", those interviews!" he murmured, "those sweet, stolen
interviews!"
", ," said , "you speak as though you feel sorry for all
this!"
", my darling. fond recollection of these can not interfere with
my joy at the present; for the great meaning of this present is that
while we live we shall never part again."
***
did not go back to that night. were a
thousand things to talk over. the following day explained all
about the cipher, and told many stories about his early association
with . things took up all the next day.
was in no hurry now. appointment was quietly
given up. had no immediate desire to go to his lodgings, and
insisted that and should be his guests during
their stay in .
this, and agreed, and enforced a promise from
that he would be their guest in .
their thoughts turned on . had no desire to
pursue her. she was an old friend; and her treason was not
a thing which could be punished in a court of justice.
she was, after all, the woman who had saved his life with
what still seemed to him like matchless devotion. knew well, what
never knew, how passionately loved him. ,
finally, she was a _woman_, and now undeniably a woman in distress.
was enough. " the poor thing go; half wish that could
save her from going to the devil." were his sentiments.
the second day drove in to his rooms. returned
looking very pale and grave. , who had gone out smilingly to
greet him, wondered at this.
" talked about sparing her," said he, softly. " darling wife, she
is beyond our reach now."
looked at him with fearful inquiry.
" has gone--she is dead!"
"!" cried , in a voice of horror.
", and by her own hand."
then told her that on reaching his rooms he was waited
on by the _concierge_, who informed him that on the previous day the
lady whom the _concierge_ supposed to be his wife was found dead in
her bed by her maid. one knew the cause. absence of her
husband was much wondered at. was so much shocked that
his deportment would have befitted one who was really a bereaved
husband. questioning the maid he found that she had her
suspicions. had found a vial on the table by the bed, about which
she had said nothing. knew her duty to a noble family, and held
her tongue. gave the vial to , who recognized the
presence of strychnine. unhappy one had no doubt committed
suicide. was a letter addressed to him, which he took away.
was a long manuscript, and contained a full account of all that she
had done, together with the most passionate declarations of her love.
thought it best, on the whole, not to show this to .
knew that she had committed suicide, but he did not know, nor did
any living being, the anguish that must have filled the wretched one
as she nerved her heart for the act. this he could conjecture
from her letter, which told him how often she had meditated this.
last it had come. the villa in her despair, she had gone to
her lodgings, passed the night in writing this manuscript, and then
flung her guilty soul into the presence of her .
had not gone into society at all,
's death created but little sensation. was no scandal
connected with his name; there was no bewildering explanation of
things that might have seemed incredible. was quieted, and even
hate itself was buried in the grave of the dead.
death of gave a shock to those who had known her, even
though they had suffered by her; but there was another thing which
gave sadness in the midst of new-found happiness. . had
left the room, after that eventful evening when she had found
and , she was taken to her bed. that bed she was
destined never to rise again. the last few months she had
suffered more than she could bear. she lived in quiet at
, life might possibly have been prolonged for a few years.
the illness which she had at had worn her down; and she
had scarce risen from her bed, and begun to totter about the house,
than she fled on a wild and desperate errand. had gone, half
dying, to , to search after , so as to warn him
of what she suspected. anxiety for him had given her a fitful and
spasmodic strength, which had sustained her. little jewelry which
she possessed furnished the means for prolonging a life which she
only cherished till she might find . weeks she had
kept up her search, growing feebler every day, and every day spending
more and more of her little store, struggling vehemently against that
mortal weakness which she felt in all her frame, and bearing up
constantly even amidst despair. last had found her.
had seen "her boy"--she had found him with . danger which
she had feared seemed to her to have been averted, she knew not how;
and her cup was full.
mighty revulsion of feeling took place from the depths of despair
to the heights of happiness. purpose was realized. was
nothing more to live for.
now, since that purpose was gained, the false strength which had
sustained her so long gave way utterly. weary frame was at last
extended upon a bed from which she would no longer be compelled to
rise for the watch and the march and the vigil. labor was over.
came the reaction. she yielded. seemed as though joy
had killed her. so. great purpose had given her a fictitious
strength; and now, when the purpose was accomplished, the strength
departed, and a weakness set in commensurate with the strength--the
weakness of approaching dissolution.
herself knew that all was over. would not have it otherwise.
was glad that it was so. was with her now a time to chant a
_nunc dimittis_--welcome death! had nothing more to offer.
again stood at her bedside, constant and loved and
loving. there was one whose presence inspired a deeper joy, for
whom her dying eyes watched--dying eyes wistful in their watch for
him. she had watched during the past months! those eyes had
strained themselves through the throngs of passers-by at ,
while, day by day, the light of hope grew dimmer! they waited for
his coming, and his approach never failed to bring to them the
kindling light of perfect joy.
himself was true to that fond affection which he had
always expressed for her and shown. showed himself eager to give
up all pleasures and all recreations for the sake of being by her
bedside.
[: " , ?"]
this used to look with eyes that sometimes glistened
with manly tears.
passed on, and . grew weaker. was possible to count
the hours that remained for mortal life. strange desolation arose
in 's heart as the prospect of her end lowered before
him.
day . was alone with him. had called away
for some purpose or other. doing so he had whispered
something to the dying woman. they left she held out her hand to
.
" here and sit nearer," she wailed forth--"nearer; take my hand,
and listen."
did so. sat in a chair by the bedside, and held her
hand. . lay for a moment looking at him with an earnest and
inexplicable gaze.
"!" she moaned, "my boy--my little ! can you bear what am
going to say? it! merciful! am dying now. must tell it
before go. will be merciful, will you not, my boy?"
" not talk so," faltered , in deep emotion.
", my boy!" said . , "do you know--have you ever heard any
thing about--your--your mother?"
" mother?"
"."
"; nothing except that she died when was an infant."
", my boy! she did not die, though death would have been a
blessing."
thrill passed through .
"! nurse!" he cried--"my dear old nurse, what is it that you
mean? mother? did not die? she alive? the name of ,
tell me all!"
" boy!" said . , grasping the hand that held hers
convulsively--"my boy! can you bear it?"
" is my mother?" asked .
. struggled up. a moment she leaned on her elbow. her
eyes there gleamed the light of undying love--love deep, yearning,
unfathomable--love stronger than life. was but a faint whisper
that escaped her wan, white lips, but that whisper pierced to the
soul of the listener, and rang through all his being with echoes that
floated down through the years.
that whisper uttered these words:
"_, my son_! _----am your mother_!"
low moan burst from . caught her dying form in his
arms, and a thousand words of love burst from him, as though by that
embrace and by those words of love he would drag her back from her
immortality. then, at last, in that embrace and in the hearing of
those words of love, there were some few moments of happiness for one
who had sinned and suffered so much; and as she lay back her face was
overspread with an expression of unutterable peace.
returned she saw bowed down, with his arms
clasping the form of . . smile was still on her face, but
it was only the form of that one who had suffered and loved so much
which now lay there; for she herself had departed from earth forever,
and found a place "where the weary are at rest."
***
afterward learned more about the past history of that
woman whom she had known and loved as . . was
who told her this, on one of his frequent visits to .
himself had heard it from the former , at the time
when she was in , and before she joined the of
.
had known her well as a boy, and they had carried on
an unmeaning flirtation, which might have developed into something
more serious had it not been prevented by her mother, who was on the
look-out for something higher. met her ambitious
views, and though he was poor, yet his title and brilliant prospects
dazzled the ambitious mother. daughter married him without loving
him, in the expectation of a lofty position. this was lost by
's resignation of his position she could not forgive
him. indulged in folly which ended in sin, until she was weak and
wicked enough to desert the man whom she had sworn to love. it
was too late she had repented. and had
saved her from ruin. remainder of her life was evident. had
left the of , from some yearning after her child, and
had succeeded in gaining employment in . changes
had been wrought in her by her sufferings that the never
recognized her; and so she had lived, solacing herself with her
child.
knowledge of her history, which was afterward communicated to her
son, did not interfere with his filial affection. remains now lie
in the vaults of beside those of the .