White Lies [156]
is dead."
"Dead!"
"Swallowed up in smoke and flames, overwhelmed and crushed under the ruins."
Josephine's whole body gave way, and heaved like a tree falling under the axe. She sank slowly to her knees, and low moans of agony broke from her at intervals. "Dead, dead, dead!"
"Is it not terrible?" he cried.
She did not see him nor hear him, but moaned out wildly, "Dead, dead, dead!" The bedroom-door was opened.
She shrieked with sudden violence, "Dead! ah, pity! the glass! the composing draught." She stretched her hands out wildly. Raynal, with a face full of concern, ran to the table, and got the glass. She crawled on her knees to meet it; he brought it quickly to her hand.
"There, my poor soul!"
Even as their hands met, Rose threw herself on the cup, and snatched it with fury from them both. She was white as ashes, and her eyes, supernaturally large, glared on Raynal with terror. "Madman!" she cried, "would you kill her?"
He glared back on her: what did this mean? Their eyes were fixed on each other like combatants for life and death; they did not see that the room was filling with people, that the doctor was only on the other side of the table, and that the baroness and Edouard were at the door, and all looking wonderstruck at this strange sight-- Josephine on her knees, and those two facing each other, white, with dilating eyes, the glass between them.
But what was that to the horror, when the next moment the patient Josephine started to her feet, and, standing in the midst, tore her hair by handfuls, out of her head.
"Ah, you snatch the kind poison from me!"
"Poison!"
"Poison!"
"Poison!" cried the others, horror-stricken.
"Ah! you won't let me die. Curse you all! curse you! I never had my own way in anything. I was always a slave and a fool. I have murdered the man I love--I love. Yes, my husband, do you hear? the man I love."
"Hush! daughter, respect my gray hairs."
"Your gray hairs! You are not so old in years as I am in agony. So this is your love, Rose! Ah, you won't let me die--won't you? THEN I'LL DO WORSE--I'LL TELL."
"He who is dead; you have murdered him amongst you, and I'll follow him in spite of you all--he was my betrothed. He struggled wounded, bleeding, to my feet. He found me married. News came of my husband's death; I married my betrothed."
"Married him!" exclaimed the baroness.
"Ah, my poor mother. And she kissed me so kindly just now--she will kiss me no more. Oh, I am not ashamed of marrying him. I am only ashamed of the cowardice that dared not do it in face of all the world. We had scarce been happy a fortnight, when a letter came from Colonel Raynal. He was alive. I drove my true husband away, wretch that I was. None but bad women have an atom of sense. I tried to do my duty to my legal husband. He was my benefactor. I thought it was my duty. Was it? I don't know: I have lost the sense of right and wrong. I turned from a living creature to a lie. He who had scattered benefits on me and all this house; he whom it was too little to love; he ought to have been adored: this man came here one night to wife proud, joyous, and warm-hearted. He found a cradle, and two women watching it. Now Edouard, now MONSIEUR, do you see that life is IMPOSSIBLE to me? One bravely accused herself: she was innocent. One swooned away like a guilty coward."
Edouard uttered an exclamation.
"Yes, Edouard, you shall not be miserable like me; she was guilty. You do not understand me yet, my poor mother--and she was so happy this morning--I was the liar, the coward, the double-faced wife, the miserable mother that denied her child. Now will you let me die? Now do you see that I can't and won't live upon shame and despair? Ah, Monsieur Raynal, my dear friend, you were always generous: you will pity and kill me. I have dishonored the name you gave me to keep: I am neither Beaurepaire nor Raynal. Do pray kill me, monsieur--Jean, do pray release me from my life!"
And she crawled to his knees and embraced them, and kissed
"Dead!"
"Swallowed up in smoke and flames, overwhelmed and crushed under the ruins."
Josephine's whole body gave way, and heaved like a tree falling under the axe. She sank slowly to her knees, and low moans of agony broke from her at intervals. "Dead, dead, dead!"
"Is it not terrible?" he cried.
She did not see him nor hear him, but moaned out wildly, "Dead, dead, dead!" The bedroom-door was opened.
She shrieked with sudden violence, "Dead! ah, pity! the glass! the composing draught." She stretched her hands out wildly. Raynal, with a face full of concern, ran to the table, and got the glass. She crawled on her knees to meet it; he brought it quickly to her hand.
"There, my poor soul!"
Even as their hands met, Rose threw herself on the cup, and snatched it with fury from them both. She was white as ashes, and her eyes, supernaturally large, glared on Raynal with terror. "Madman!" she cried, "would you kill her?"
He glared back on her: what did this mean? Their eyes were fixed on each other like combatants for life and death; they did not see that the room was filling with people, that the doctor was only on the other side of the table, and that the baroness and Edouard were at the door, and all looking wonderstruck at this strange sight-- Josephine on her knees, and those two facing each other, white, with dilating eyes, the glass between them.
But what was that to the horror, when the next moment the patient Josephine started to her feet, and, standing in the midst, tore her hair by handfuls, out of her head.
"Ah, you snatch the kind poison from me!"
"Poison!"
"Poison!"
"Poison!" cried the others, horror-stricken.
"Ah! you won't let me die. Curse you all! curse you! I never had my own way in anything. I was always a slave and a fool. I have murdered the man I love--I love. Yes, my husband, do you hear? the man I love."
"Hush! daughter, respect my gray hairs."
"Your gray hairs! You are not so old in years as I am in agony. So this is your love, Rose! Ah, you won't let me die--won't you? THEN I'LL DO WORSE--I'LL TELL."
"He who is dead; you have murdered him amongst you, and I'll follow him in spite of you all--he was my betrothed. He struggled wounded, bleeding, to my feet. He found me married. News came of my husband's death; I married my betrothed."
"Married him!" exclaimed the baroness.
"Ah, my poor mother. And she kissed me so kindly just now--she will kiss me no more. Oh, I am not ashamed of marrying him. I am only ashamed of the cowardice that dared not do it in face of all the world. We had scarce been happy a fortnight, when a letter came from Colonel Raynal. He was alive. I drove my true husband away, wretch that I was. None but bad women have an atom of sense. I tried to do my duty to my legal husband. He was my benefactor. I thought it was my duty. Was it? I don't know: I have lost the sense of right and wrong. I turned from a living creature to a lie. He who had scattered benefits on me and all this house; he whom it was too little to love; he ought to have been adored: this man came here one night to wife proud, joyous, and warm-hearted. He found a cradle, and two women watching it. Now Edouard, now MONSIEUR, do you see that life is IMPOSSIBLE to me? One bravely accused herself: she was innocent. One swooned away like a guilty coward."
Edouard uttered an exclamation.
"Yes, Edouard, you shall not be miserable like me; she was guilty. You do not understand me yet, my poor mother--and she was so happy this morning--I was the liar, the coward, the double-faced wife, the miserable mother that denied her child. Now will you let me die? Now do you see that I can't and won't live upon shame and despair? Ah, Monsieur Raynal, my dear friend, you were always generous: you will pity and kill me. I have dishonored the name you gave me to keep: I am neither Beaurepaire nor Raynal. Do pray kill me, monsieur--Jean, do pray release me from my life!"
And she crawled to his knees and embraced them, and kissed