Regina, or the Sins of the FathersSudermann, Hermann
General
Regina, or the Sins of the Fathers
Sudermann, Hermann
Fiction
Contact with the outer world cooled and damped in a singular way his
ardour; and the feverish tension of his emotions gradually relaxed,
giving place to a more normal state of mind. He was confronted with
reasoning instead of anathemas, courteous words instead of threats--and
this worked a soothing and beneficial influence on his nature. He
projected plans, and prepared himself with composure and deliberation
for what the future might have in store for him.
At the same time the magic fascination the wild girl had exercised on
him was becoming dimmer in his recollection. Every new face, every new
thought, alienated him further from her. Gradually he ceased to
reproach himself for having acted with merciless cruelty towards her,
and the mastery she had acquired over his senses was now
incomprehensible to him. Nevertheless, often when he sat alone at dusk
in his private room at the hostelry, he saw those eyes again flashing
soft fire, and felt her presence thrill through his veins. Then it
seemed as if the scar, that furrowed horizontally his under lip, began
to burn like an inflammatory record of that kiss, the only one that the
lips of a woman had ever imprinted on his, for his shy and reserved
manner had all his life repelled, and kept women at a distance. At such
times his whole existence seemed compressed into that one moment's
ecstasy. But of course this was only a freak, illusive reverie played
his senses, which lamplight and work soon dispelled.
He had written to her once or twice in order to set her mind at rest on
the subject of his sudden departure, or rather flight--had asked for an
answer, and promised a speedy return.
Once he had had news of her--a letter written in bold characters and
correctly expressed. After all these years of bondage, the lessons she
had learnt in the old pastor's school still evidently stood her in good
stead.
In prospect of his near approach to his home, he drew the sheet from
his pocket, and read sitting in the saddle the lines, which, in spite
of himself, he almost knew by heart.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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