Lawrence_Guy_Livingstone.txt topic ['13', '324', '378', '393']
the
citadel. can not go through the details; will only say that,
sometimes, none of us could endure to look upon sufferings which never
drew a complaint or a moan from him.
every pleasure has been discussed and dissected, but we know
comparatively nothing of the physiology of pain. is no standard by
which to measure it, even if the courage and endurance of any mortal man
could enable him to analyze his own tortures philosophically. it not
always supposed that the guillotine is merciful, because quick in
annihilation? at 's pictures at . his idea (shared
too, now, by many clever surgeons) be true, you will see the amount of a
long life's suffering exceeded by what seems to us a minute's agony.
it is like the king's gaining the experience of fifty years by
dipping his head for a second in the magic water. a soul in torment
there is no horologe.
one thing be sure; the strong temperaments who enjoy greatly, suffer
greatly too--those who endure in silence, most of all. think the
wolf's death-pang is sharper than the hare's.
was not only patient, he was actually more cheerful than had
seen him since died. liked to see his old friends, and to
hear accounts of their sport with hound and gun. do these justice,
there was not one who would not give up, gladly, the best meet of the
, or the shooting of the best cover in the county, to sit for
half a day in that sick-room. talked, too, always pleasantly and
kindly to his mother and his cousin.
was quite broken down by this second blow. to
her dead husband, believe, she loved better than any one; not
unnaturally, for he had petted and protected her all her life long.
could not help giving way, though she tried hard, for the sake of
others. was piteous to see her, sitting alone for hours, gazing out
on the bleak winter landscape, while the tears welled slowly from under
her heavy eyelids.
, who was still at , came often to visit .
one could do him so much good. curate was just as confident and
uncompromising in the discharge of his office as he was yielding and
diffident when only himself was in question. was so honest, and
straightforward, and true--so free from rant or cant--so strong in his
simple theology, that soon trusted him implicitly when he spoke of
the past and of the future that was so near. repentance that was
begun by 's dying bed was completed, am sure, on his own.
"," said, one morning, suddenly, " have written to ask
to come to me. will be here to-day. would make me very
happy if could hear him say he forgave me."
" you think you will succeed?" asked, sadly; for felt a nervous
certainty that the pain the interview must cost him would be unavailing.
" can not tell," he answered, firmly; "but says, and know,
that it is my duty to try. may be present, if you like, on one
condition--you must promise, whatever he may say or do, not to interfere
by a look or a word."
did promise; but looked forward with dread to 's coming.
an hour's time he was announced.
was the first time had seen him; and was much struck by the
mingled expression of suffering and ferocity that sat, like a mask, on
his worn dark face. have seen its like but once--in a dangerous
maniac's. walked straight up to 's couch without noticing me, and
stood there silent, glaring down on the sick man with his fiery black
eyes.
" is very good of you to come," said; " scarcely hoped you
would. have wronged you, more deeply than any living man--so deeply
that could never have dared to ask your forgiveness if had not been
very near my death. you give me your hand? , indeed, have
repented sorely."
's hoarse tones broke in:
" came, because, years ago, to see this sight, to see you lying there
like a crushed worm, would have sold my soul. me? tell
you what you have done? was only one creature on earth cared
for; that was my sister. those years in had been fancying
our meeting. came back, and found her dying; more than that, found
her love turned away from me. did _all_ this. tell you, never
could get one of her old fond looks or words from her all the time she
was dying. was only afraid of me. hell! you stood between us to
the last. you know that she dragged herself across the room at my
knees--mine, who never refused to indulge her in a whim before--first to
be allowed to see you, and then to make me swear not to attempt your
life?"
stopped, gnashing his teeth.
's features, wan and worn by pain, were lighted up with a
tenderness and joy inexpressible as he heard what his dead love had
borne and done for him. would have hidden his face had he guessed how
its expression would exasperate 's furious temper.
"--n you!" he howled out, like a madman, "do you dare to triumph?" and,
tearing off his glove, he struck on the cheek with it a
sharp blow.
great shudder swept through every fibre of the maimed giant's frame,
in which sensation lingered still; the blood surged up to his forehead
and ebbed again instantly, leaving even the lips deathly white; he
raised his hand quickly, but it was only to warn me back; for, mild and
peaceable as am, leaped up then, as savage as . that hand
he caught 's wrist. latter stood with his eyes cast down,
sullenly--already, am sure, horror at the act of foul cowardice into
which his passion had driven him was creeping over him--he did not try
to disengage himself. he done so, thrice his strength would not have
set him free.
" thank , from my heart," said, very slowly and steadily, "that,
if meet your sister hereafter, shall not shrink before her, for
believe all promised her has been kept. ! you would feel shame
to your life's end thinking that you had struck a helpless, dying
cripple. is not so. don't know what you risked. were within
arm's-length, and at close quarters could be dangerous still. ."
took up a small silver cup that lay near, and crushed it flat between
his fingers.
was silence then; only 's breath was heard, drawn hard and
irregularly, as if he was trying to throw off a weight from his chest.
looked up at him, and said very gently, holding out his hand, "
more, forgive me."
answered in a thick, smothered voice,
" will not take your hand. will never forgive you. forgive
; for-- understand her now."
turned on his heel, and left the room without another word, still
with his head bent down, as if in thought. gazed after him till the
door shut softly. looked round at . head had fallen back,
and the features looked so drawn and changed that cried out, thinking
he was dead. was only a long, long swoon.
another scene, and my tale is told.
was reading in 's room one evening. had not spoken for some
time, and fancied he was asleep. he called to me,
", come here--nearer. have several things to say to you, and
feel must make haste. , don't call any one. said farewell to my
mother yesterday, and we must spare her all we can."
the presence of that sublime self-command, _dared_ not betray my
grief by any outward sign. knelt down by his side silently.
went on in a voice that, though hollow and often interrupted by
failing breath, was perfectly measured and steady.
" can only be glad that the end has come at last, though it is well
have had time to prepare myself. ready now? can not tell.
says ought to hope. trust it is not wicked to say do not _fear_.
have sinned often and deeply; but who will judge me created me, and
knows, too, how much have suffered. do not mean from _this_ (he
threw his hand toward his crippled limbs with the old gesture of
disdain), but from bitterness and loneliness of heart. than all,
am sure my darling has been pleading for me ever since she died. will
not believe her prayers have been wasted.
" want to tell you what have done. know the direct line of my
family ends with me. am glad it does. next in succession would be
a cousin, who has taken to some trade in ; a good man,
believe--but he would not do here. have left to my mother
for her life, and then--to you. ! the time is too short for
objections or thanks, and death-bed gifts show little generosity.
, would have left it to , only it would be more a trouble
to her than any thing else. will take care of every thing and every
body. farewell for me to my old friends, especially to .
! he will be sorry--though he will not own it--when he comes back
from and finds me gone."
raised himself a little, so as to rest his hand on my shoulder as
knelt, while his voice deepened in its solemn calm:
" , one other word for yourself, who have borne so patiently
with my perverse temper since we were boys together. have been silent,
but, indeed, not ungrateful. all your kind, unselfish thoughts, and
words, and deeds--for all the good you would have counseled--for all
your efforts to stand between me and wrong-doing--tried friend, true
comrade! thank you now, heartily, and pray to bless you always."
was only self-control, almost superhuman, that enabled him to speak
those words steadily, for the fierce death-throe was possessing him
before he ended. the awful minutes that followed, not another
sound than the hissing breath escaped through his set lips; his face was
not once distorted, though the hair and beard clung round it, matted and
dank with the sweat of agony. brave heart and iron nerve ruled the
body to the last imperially--supreme over the intensity of torture.
he opened his eyes, which had been closed all through the
protracted death-pang, there was a look of the ancient kindness in them,
though they were glazing fast. found my hand, and grasped it, till
felt the life ebbing back in his fingers. saw his lips syllable
"-by;" then, he leaned his head back gently, and, without a sigh or
a shiver, the strong man's spirit went forth into .
sense of utter desolation, as it were a horror of great darkness,
gathered all around me as leaned my forehead against the corpse's
cheek, sobbing like a helpless child.
will not care to hear how we all mourned him.
you care to hear that, often as his mother visits his grave, there
is _one_ woman who comes oftener still?
of us have ever met her, for she comes always at late night or
early morning. finding, in the depth of winter or in the bleak
spring, the ground about strewed with the choicest of exotic
flowers--not carefully arranged, but showered down by a reckless,
desperate hand--we know that has been there.
not laugh at her too much for clinging to the one romance of her
artificial existence. , while he lived, there was nothing so
rare and precious--ay, even to the sacrifice of her own body and
soul--that she would not have laid ungrudgingly at 's
feet.