He brought out the last word as though he could hardly get it to pass
his lips. Patricia pressed her hands to her face in an agony of feeling.
“Oh, no! no! _no!_” she cried, in a passionate voice. “Not divorce! It
is too dreadful! Anything but that! I will go away, to Germany, to
England, anywhere in Europe; but you must remain my husband, and I your
wife. Surely if we are separated for ever the Rabbi will be satisfied;
surely he, a minister of God, is not so utterly wicked as to wish to
break the most sacred bonds of our marriage. Let him part us so that we
shall never meet again. In the sight of Heaven I shall always be your
wife!”
Her self-control collapsed completely, and she gave vent to such sobs as
seemed to come from the depths of her being. Montella took her in his
arms, and endeavoured to comfort her with the assurance that the hated
contingency should never occur. But he felt no less miserable in his way
than she did in hers. He knew that their separation was inevitable, and
that it might be indefinitely prolonged. He knew also that life in
Palestine would be almost unendurable without Patricia at his side.
“Oh, darling, darling, what grief you have brought down upon us both!”
he exclaimed, in anguish. “Truly did your Christ say, ‘_I came not to
send peace, but a sword!_’ Is not that sword piercing your heart and
mine? Cursed be all creeds which bring dissension and sorrow in their
wake, which separate a husband from his wife, a mother from her child!
How can I send you away—you whom I have sworn to protect and cherish? To
know that you are lonely, and that I cannot comfort you; that you are
ill, and I cannot sit beside you; that you want me, and I cannot come.
Oh, Patricia, they have laid their finger on the weak spot in my
manhood’s armour! I cannot bear to let you go away!”
She had never seen him so intensely moved. She dried her eyes with a
feeling almost of awe, and in her desire to comfort him, recovered her
own self-possession.
“We must both be brave, dearest,” she said, in a broken voice. “If it is
necessary for us to part for a time, it will not last for ever—nothing
lasts for ever. Don’t let us make it harder for each other than we can
help. Let us try to think of the—the—happy reunion in the future.”
“The future? But when? So far as I know, I am settled in Haifa for life.
If we part, it may be for years, for we do not know when we shall see
each other again.” He paused, evidently struck by a new idea, and
continued impulsively: “Patricia, why should we give up our happiness
for the sake of people who do not care two straws whether we live or
die? Why should I slave and toil and worry, only to be rewarded by base
ingratitude? Resign my post! Well, why not? What is the governorship
worth in comparison with you!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account