He left Gideon’s grave and walked back to the church-porch. It was now
nearly dark and without fear of being observed by any one through the
iron bars of the outer gate, he entered the porch and stood before the
closed door. He wished he had brought the key with him. How he longed,
at that moment, to fling himself down before the altar and cry aloud to
his God!
By his side stood the wheeled parish bier, ornamented by a gilt
inscription, informing the casual intruder that it had been presented
to the place in honour of the accession of King George the Fifth. There
was not light enough to read these touching words, but the gilt plate
containing them gave forth a faint scintillating glimmer.
Worn out by the day-long struggle in his heart, Clavering sat down
upon this grim “memento mori”; and then, after a minute or two,
finding that position uncomfortable, deliberately stretched himself
out at full length upon the thing’s bare surface. Lying here, with
the bats flitting in and out above his head, the struggle in his mind
continued. Supposing he did yield,--not altogether, of course; his
whole nature was against that, and his public position stood in the
way,--but just a little, just a hair’s breadth, could he not enjoy a
light playful flirtation with Gladys, such as she was so obviously
prepared for, even if it were impossible to marry her? The worst of
it was that his imagination so enlarged upon the pleasures of this
“playful flirtation,” that it very quickly became an obsessing desire.
He propped himself up upon his strange couch and looked forth into the
night. The stars were just beginning to appear, and he could see one
or two constellations whose names he knew. How indifferent they were,
those far-off lights! What did it matter to them whether he yielded or
did not yield? He had the curious sensation that the whole conflict
in which he was entangled belonged to a terrestrial sphere infinitely
below those heavenly luminaries. Not only the Power against which he
contended, but the Power on whose side he fought, seemed out-distanced
and derided by those calm watchers.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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