The House of the White Shadows

CHAPTER VIII

THE COMPACT

"You sent for me, madame,' he said presently, 'because it was necessary that some explanation should be given of the occurrences that have taken place in my family, of which you are a member. Each of us has reason to regret an alliance which has caused us so much suffering. Unfortunately for our happiness and our peace of mind the truth has been spoken too late; but it were idle now to waste time in lamentations. There are in life certain bitter trials which must be accepted; in that light I accept the calamity which has fallen upon us, and which, had I known before our marriage what I know now, would most surely have been averted. It was in your power to avert it; you did not do so, but led me blindly into the whirlpool. You have informed me that, after this night, you will never open your lips to me, nor ever again listen to my voice.'

"'Nor will I,' she said, 'from the rising of to-morrow's sun.'

"'I shall do nothing to woo you from that resolve. But you bear my name, and to some extent my honour is still in your keeping.'

"'Have you, then,' she asked, 'any commands to give me?'

"'It will depend,' he replied, 'upon what I hear from you. So far as my honour is concerned I intend to exercise control over you; no farther.'

"'Your honour is safe with me, as it has always been."

"'I will not debate the point with you. You say that you have decided on your course, and that no arguments of mine will turn you from it.'

"'Yes; my course is decided. Am I free to go from your house?'

"'You are not free to go. Only one thing shall part us-death!'

"'We have a child,' she said, and her voice, for that moment, insensibly softened.

"'Is he asleep?'

"'Yes.'

"He went into the inner room, and remained there for several minutes, and my lady, with a white and tearless face, waited for his return.

"I thought I heard the sound of kisses in the bedroom, but I could not be sure. There was, however, a tender light in my master's eyes when he came back, a light which showed that his heart was touched.

"'Our child shall remain with you,' he said to my lady, 'if you wish.'

"'I do wish it," she said.

"'I will not take him from you, only that I must sometimes see him.'

"'He shall be brought to you every day.'

"'I am content. Let him grow up to love me or hate me, as the prompting of his nature and your teaching shall direct. From my lips he shall never hear a disparaging word of his mother.'

"'Nor shall he, from my lips, of his father.'

"He bowed to her as he would have bowed to a princess, and said:

"'I thank you. But little, then, remains to be said. We are bound to each other irrevocably, and we cannot part without disgrace. We have brought our griefs upon ourselves, and we must bear them in silence. The currents of my life are changed, and these gates shall never again be opened to friends. I have done with friendship as I have done with love. I ask you what course you have determined upon?'

"'I propose,' said my lady, 'to make these rooms my home, if you will give them to me to live in.'

"'They are yours,' he replied. 'Unless I am compelled by duty, or by circumstances which I do not at present foresee, I will never enter them during your lifetime.'

"'It is as I would have it,' she said. 'In daylight I shall not leave them. If I walk in the grounds it shall be at nightfall. Outside your gates I will never more be seen, nor will I allow a friend or an acquaintance to visit me. Will you allow Denise to wait upon me?'

"'She is your servant, and yours only, from this moment. I am pleased that you have selected her.'

"'Denise,' said my lady to me, 'are you willing to serve me?'

"'Yes, my lady,' I answered. I was almost choked with sobs, while they were outwardly calm and unmoved.

"'Then there is nothing more to be said-except farewell.' And my lady looked towards the door.

"He did not linger a moment. He bowed to her ceremoniously, and left the room.

"When he was gone I felt as if some sudden and fearful shock must surely take place, as if a thunderbolt would fall and destroy us, or as if my lady would fall dead at my feet, the silence that ensued was so unearthly. But nothing occurred, and when I had courage to look up I saw my lady sitting in a chair, white and still, with a resigned and determined expression on her face. It would have been a great relief to me if she had cried, but there was not a tear in her eyes.

"'Do you believe me guilty, Denise?' she asked.

"'The saints forbid,' I cried, 'that such a wicked thought should enter my mind! I know you to be an innocent, suffering lady.'

"'You will do as you have been bidden to do, Denise. While my husband and I are living you will not speak of what has passed within this room.'

"'I will not, my lady.'

"And never again was the subject referred to by either of us. She did not make the slightest allusion to it, and I did not dare to do so."

CHAPTER IX

MOTHER DENISE HAS STRANGE FANCIES IN THE NIGHT

"A new life now commenced for us-a new and dreadful life. Mr. Almer gave orders that no person was to be admitted to the villa without his express permission. He denied himself to every chance visitor, and from that time until you came, my lady, no friend of the family, except a great banker, and occasionally Master Pierre Lamont, both of whom came upon business, ever entered the gates. The doctor, of course, when he was needed; but no one else.

"Mr. Almer passed most of his time in his study, writing and reading, and pacing to and fro as he used to do in times gone by. He did not make any enquiries about my lady, nor did she about him. She lived in these rooms, and, in my remembrance, did not stir out of them during the day. Master Christian slept in the inner room there, and was free to roam about as he pleased.

"Every morning I took the child to his father, who sometimes would kiss him and send him back to my lady, and sometimes would say:

"'You can leave him with me, Denise, for an hour.'

"Then he would take the child into the study, and lock the door, and nurse and sing to him. I was in the habit of seeing him thus engaged as I walked backwards and forwards in the grounds in front of the study, waiting for his summons to carry master Christian to his mother.

"His was not a happy childhood, for when he began ta speak and think, the estrangement between his parents puzzled him deeply, and made him sad. He was continually asking questions to which he received replies which perplexed him more and more. With childlike, innocent cunning he strove to draw them to each other. When he was with my lady, it was:

"'Mamma, why do you not go and speak to papa? There he is walking in the garden. Come out with me, mamma-come quickly, or papa will be gone.'

"And when he was with his father he would say:

"'Papa, I have a message for you.'

"'Yes, Christian,' my master would say.

"'You are to take hold of my hand, and come with me immediately to mamma. Yes, papa, indeed, immediately! She wants to speak to you.'

"Mr. Almer knew that this was nothing but invention on the child's part.

"What they learnt of each other's health and doings came through Master Christian; it is very hard, my lady, to stop a child's innocent prattle.

"'Papa, I wish to tell you something.'

"'Tell me, Christian.'

"'Mamma has a bad headache-such a bad, bad headache! I have been smoothing her forehead with my hand, but it will not go away for me. You cured my headache last week; come and cure mamma.'

"And at another time:

"'Papa, is not this beautiful?'

"'Yes, Christian, it is very pretty.'

"'Mamma painted it for me. Do you know, papa, she has painted me-yes, my portrait, and has put it in a book. It is exactly like-you could not tell it from me myself. Shall I ask her to give it to you-or will you come and ask for it yourself?'

"With my lady it was the same.

"'Mamma, papa has been writing all day long. I peeped through the window, and he looked so tired-just as you look sometimes. Now, mamma, tell me-do you think papa is happy?'

"'Mamma, see what papa has given me-a musical-box! Only because I said to him I should like a musical-box! Is he not good?'

"And so it went on day after day, week after week, but the child's eager, anxious love brought them no nearer to each other.

"In the dark nights when the weather permitted, my lady walked in the grounds. At first I offered to accompany her, but she refused my company.

"'I will walk alone, Denise.'

"The servants used to say, as the moonlight fell on her white dress:

"'She looks like a white ghost.'

"And at other times:

"'She is like a white shadow moving in the moon's light.'

"Her husband was careful to keep out of her sight when she indulged in these lonely rambles. They would not make the slightest advance to each other.

"I must not forget to tell you what occurred about a month after this estrangement. The duties of my attendance on my lady did not keep me with her during the night unless she was ill, and was likely to require my services. Generally I waited till I saw her abed and asleep. She retired early, and this afforded me an opportunity of looking after the room occupied by my husband and myself.

"I remember that on this night I drew the blind aside after I was undressed, and looked toward my master's study. There were lights in the windows, as usual. I was not surprised, for Mr. Almer frequently sat up the whole night through.

"I went to bed, and soon fell asleep.

"Quite contrary to my usual habit, I woke up while it was dark, and heard the sound of the clock striking the hour. I counted the strokes, from one to twelve. It was midnight.

"I was such a good sleeper-seldom waking till the morning, when it was time to get up-that I wondered to myself what it was that awoke me. The striking of the clock? Hardly-for that was no new sound. What, then? Gusts of wind were sweeping round the walls of the villa. 'Ah,' I thought, 'it was the wind that disturbed me;' and I settled myself for sleep again, when suddenly another sound-an unusual one this time-made me jump up in bed. The sound was like that of a heavy object jumping, or falling, from a height within the grounds.

"'Can it be robbers,' I thought, 'who have climbed the gates, and missed their footing?'

"The thought alarmed me, and I woke my husband, and told him what I had heard. He rose, and looked out of the window.

"'Mr. Almer is up and awake,' said he. 'If there were any cause for alarm he would not be sitting quietly in his study, poring over his books. What you heard is the wind. Robbers, indeed! I pity the thief who tries to pass our dogs; he would be torn to pieces. There! let me get to sleep, and don't disturb me again with your foolish fancies; and get to sleep yourself as quick as you can. Now your head is stirring, you'll be imagining all sorts of things.'

"That was all the satisfaction I could get out of him; the next moment he was fast asleep again.

"It was no easy thing for me to follow his example. I lay thinking and thinking for an hour or more. I was glad my husband had mentioned the dogs; in my alarm I had forgotten them. Martin was quite right. Any stranger who attempted to pass them would have been torn to pieces.

"Well, but there was somebody walking on the gravelpaths! I heard soft footsteps crunching the stones, stepping cautiously, as though fearful of disturbing the people in the house. These sounds came to my ears between the gusts of wind, which were growing stronger and stronger.

"I was on the point of rousing my husband again when it occurred to me that it might be my master, who, restless as usual, was walking about the grounds.

"This explanation quieted me, and I was soon asleep. For how long I cannot say, for suddenly I found myself sitting up in bed, wide awake, listening to the wind, which was shaking the house to its foundations. And yet the impression was so strong upon me that it was not the storm that had frightened me, that I went to the window and looked out, expecting to see Heaven only knows what. Nothing was to be seen, and presently I reasoned myself out of my fears, and was not again disturbed during the night.

"In the morning a strange discovery was made. A servant came running to me before I was dressed, with the information that our two dogs were dead. I hurried to the kennel and saw their bodies stretched out, cold and stiff.

"Mr. Almer was very fond of these dogs, and I went to him and told him what had occurred. There was a strange, wild look in his eyes which I attributed to want of sleep. But stranger than this weary, wild expression was the smile on his lips when he heard the news.

"He followed me to the kennel, and stooped down.

"'They are quite dead, Denise,' he said.

"'Yes, sir,' I said, 'but who could have done such a cruel thing?'

"'The dogs have been poisoned,' he said, 'here is the meat that was thrown to them. There is still some white powder upon it.'

"'Poisoned!' I cried. 'The wretches.'

"'Whoever did this deed,' said my master, 'deserved to die. It is as bad as killing a human creature in cold blood.'

"'Are you sure, sir,' I said, 'there has been nothing stolen from the house?'

"'You can go and see, Denise.'

"I made an examination of the rooms. Nothing had been taken from them. I tried the door of my master's study to examine that room also, but it was locked. When I returned my master was still kneeling by the dogs.

"'It does not appear that anything has been taken,' I said, 'but the sounds I heard in the night prove that there have been robbers here.'

"'What sounds did you hear?' asked my master, looking up.

"I told him of my alarm, and of my waking my husband, and of my fancies.

"'Fancies!' he said; 'yes-it could have been nothing but imagination. I have been up the whole night, and had there been an attempt at robbery, I must surely have known it. Were any of the other servants disturbed?"

"'No, sir.'

"I had already questioned them, but they had all slept soundly and had heard nothing. I had been also with my lady for a few moments, but she had not been disturbed during the night by anything but the howling of the wind.

"'Let the matter rest,' said my master; 'it will be best. It is my wish that you do not speak of it. The dogs are dead, and nothing can restore them to life. Evil deeds carry their own punishment with them! The next time you are frightened by fancies in the night, and see a light in my study, you may be satisfied that all is well.'

"So the dogs were buried, and no action was taken to punish their murderers; and in a little while the whole affair was forgotten."

CHAPTER X

CHRISTIAN ALMER'S CHILD-LIFE

"The years went by in the lonely villa without any change, except that my lady grew into the habit of taking her walks in the grounds later in the night. Not a word was exchanged between her and her husband; had seas divided them they could not have been further apart from each other.

"A dreadful, dreary monotony of days. The direction and control of the house was left entirely to me; my master took not the slightest interest in what was going on. I should have asked to be relieved from the service, had it not been for my affection for my mistress. To live with her-as I did for years, attending upon her daily-without loving her was not possible. Her gentleness, her resignation, her resolution, her patience, were almost beyond belief with those who were not constant witnesses of her lonely, blameless, suffering life.

"She never wrote or received a letter. She severed herself entirely from the world, and these rooms were her living grave.

"She loved her child, but she did not give way to any violent demonstration of feeling. I observed, as the lad grew up, that he became more and more perplexed by the relations which existed between his parents. Had one or the other been unkind to him, he might have been able to put a reasonable construction upon the estrangement, but they were equally affectionate, equally tender towards him. He continued to exercise the prettiest cunning to bring them together, but without avail. Without avail, also, the entreaties he used.

"'Mamma, the sun is shining beautifully. Do come out with me and speak to papa. Do, mamma, do! See, he is walking in the garden.'

"'Mamma, may I bring papa into your room? Say yes. I am sure he would be glad.'

"'Papa, mamma is really very ill. I do so wish you would see her and speak to her! There, papa, I have hold of your hand. Come, papa, come!'

"It was heart-breaking to hear the lad, who loved both, who received love from both.

"'Mamma,' he said, 'are you rich?'

"'In what way, dear child?' she asked, I have no doubt wondering at his question; 'in money? Do you mean that?'

"'Yes, mamma, I mean that.'

"'We are not in want of money, Christian.'

"'Then you can buy whatever you want, mamma.'

"'I want very little, Christian.'

"'But if you wanted a great deal,' he persisted, 'you have money to pay for it?'

"'Yes, Christian.'

"'And papa, too?'

"'Yes, and papa too.'

"'I can't make it out,' he said. 'Yesterday, I saw a poor little girl crying. I asked her what she was crying for, and she said her mamma was in great trouble because they had no money. I asked her if money would make her mamma happy, and she said yes. Then why does it not make you happy?'

"'Would you like some money, Christian,' said my lady, 'to give to this poor girl's mamma?'

"'Yes, mamma.'

"Here is my purse. Denise will go with you at once.'

"We went to the cottage, and found that the family were in deep distress. The father was in arrears with his rent, having been unable to work, through illness, for a good many weeks; he was now strong enough to return to his employment, but he was plunged into such difficulties that all his courage had deserted him. The mother was weak with overpowering anxiety, and the children were in want of food.

"I saw that the family were deserving of assistance, and I directed Master Christian what to give them. He visited them daily for a week and more, and the roses came back to the children's cheeks, and the hearts of the father and mother were filled with hope and gladness.

"'Mamma,' said Master Christian, 'you have no idea how happy they are-and all because I gave them a little money. They play and sing together-yes, mamma, all of them; it is beautiful to see them. They call me their good angel.'

"'I am very glad you have made them happy, my dear,' said my lady.

"'Mamma, they are happy because they love each other, and because they laugh and sing together. Let me be your good angel, mamma, and papa's. Tell me what to do, so that we may live like those poor people!'

"These were hard things for parents to hear, and harder because no answers could be given to them.

"We went out for a stroll every fine day for an hour or so, and when Master Christian saw a child walking between father and mother, who smiled at each other and their little one, and spoke pleasantly and kindly one to the other, his eyes would fill with tears. He would peep through cottage windows-nay, he would go into the cottages, where he was always welcome, and would furnish himself with proofs of domestic happiness which never gladdened his heart in his own home. With scanty food, with ragged clothes, the common peasant children were enjoying what was denied to him.

"He had one especial friend, a delicate child, who at length was laid on a bed of sickness from which he never rose. Master Christian, for a few weeks before this child died, visited him daily in my company, and took the poor little fellow many comforting things, for which the humble family were very grateful. My young master would stand by the bedside of the sick child, and witness, in silent pain, the evidences of paternal love which lightened the load of the little sufferer.

"The day before the child died we approached the cottage, and Master Christian peeped through the window. The child was dying, and by his bedside sat the sorrowing parents. The man's arm was round the woman's waist, and her head was resting on her husband's shoulder. We entered the cottage, and remained an hour, and as we walked home Master Christian said:

"'If I were dying, would my mamma and papa sit like that?'

"I could find no words to answer this question, which showed what was passing in Master Christian's mind.

"'Cannot you tell me,' said Master Christian, 'whether my rich parents would do for me what that little boy's poor parents are doing for him? It is so very much, Denise-so very, very much! It is more than money, for money is no use in Heaven, where he is going to. I wish my mamma and papa had been poor; then they would have lived together and have loved each other. Denise, tell me what it all means.'

"'Hush, Master Christian,' I said, trying to soothe him, for his little bosom was swelling with grief. 'When you are a man you will understand.'

"'I want to understand now-I want to understand now!' he cried. 'There is something very wicked about our house. I hate it-I hate it!'

"And he stamped his foot, and broke into a fit of sobbing so charged with sorrow that I could not help sobbing with him.

"Something of this must have reached his parents' ears, and how they suffered only themselves could have known. My master grew thin and wan; dark circles came round his eyes, and they often had a wild look in them which made me fear he was losing his senses. And my lady drooped and drooped, like a flower planted in unwholesome soil. Paler and quieter she grew every day; sweeter and more resigned, if that were possible, with every setting of the sun; so weak at last that she could not take her walk in the grounds.

"Sitting by the window, looking at the lovely sky, she said to me one peaceful evening:

"'I shall soon be there, Denise.'

"'Oh, my lady!' was all I could say.

"'It rejoices me to think,' she said, 'that this long agony is coming to an end. I pray that the dear child I shall leave behind me will not suffer as I have suffered, that his life may be happy, and his end be peaceful. Denise, my mother is in that invisible spirit-land to which I am going. When she sees me coming, will she not be frightened to meet me? for, if it had not been for her, all this misery would have been averted.'

"'My lady,' I said-so saint-like was her appearance that I could have knelt to her, 'let me go to my master and bring him to you.'

"'He would not come,' she said, 'at your bidding, Denise. Has he not been often entreated by our child?'

"Believing that this was a sign of relenting on her part, I said:

"'He knows that I dare not deceive him. He will come if I say you sent for him.'

"'Perhaps, perhaps,' she said; 'but I would not have him come yet. When I summon him here he will not refuse me.'

"'You will send for him one day, my lady?'

"'Yes, Denise, unless I die suddenly in my sleep-an end I have often prayed for. But this great blessing may be denied to me.'

"Ah, how sad were the days! It fills me with grief, even now, to speak of them. All kinds of strange notions entered my head during that time. I used to think it would be a mercy if a terrible flood were to come, or if someone would set fire to the villa. It would bring these two unhappy beings together for a few minutes at least. But nothing happened; the days were all alike, except that I saw very plainly that my lady could not live through another summer. She was fading away before my eyes.

"The end came at last, when Master Christian was nearly nine years old."

CHAPTER XI

BEATRICE ALMER GIVES A PROMISE TO HER SON

"It was a spring morning, and my lady was alone. Master Christian was in the woods with his father; he was to be home at noon, and my lady was watching for him at her window.

"Exactly at noon the lad returned, beaming with delight; the hours he spent with his father were memorable hours in his life.

"'You have enjoyed yourself, Christian,' said my lady, drawing her boy to her side, and smoothing his hair. 'It does you good to go out with papa.'

"'Yes, mamma,' said the lad, in his eager, excited voice. 'There is no one in the world like papa-no man, I mean. He knows everything-yes, mamma, everything! There isn't a thing you ask him that he can't tell you all about it. We have had such a beautiful walk; the forests are full of birds and squirrels. Papa knows the name of every bird and flower. See, mamma, all these are wild flowers-papa helped me to gather them, and showed me where some of the prettiest are to be found. You should hear him talk about the flowers! He has told me such wonderful, wonderful things about them! I believe they live, as we do, and that they have a language of their own. Papa smiled when I said I thought the flowers were alive, and he told me that the world was full of the loveliest mysteries, and that, although men thought themselves very wise, they really knew very little. Perhaps it is so-with all men but papa. It is because he isn't vain and proud that he doesn't set himself above other men. In the middle of the woods papa stopped and said, as he waved his hand around, "This, Christian, is Nature's book. Not all the wisdom of all the men in all the world could write one line of it. That little bird flying in the air to the nest which it has built for its young, and which is so small that I could hold it in the palm of my hand, is in itself a greater and more marvellous work than the united wisdom of all mankind shall ever be able to produce." There, mamma, you would hardly believe that I should remember papa's words; but I repeated them to myself over and over again as we walked along-they sounded so wonderful! Mamma, are there flowers in heaven?'