“You need not trouble yourself,” she interrupted him, a sombre
melancholy darkening her face; “I shall be gone to-morrow.”
“Gone altogether?” inquired the Doctor calmly and without
surprise,--“Not to come back?”
“Not in this present generation!” she answered.
Still Dr. Dean evinced no surprise.
“Then you will have satisfied yourself?” he asked.
She bent her head.
“For the time being--yes! I shall have satisfied myself.”
There followed a silence, during which the little Doctor looked at his
beautiful companion with all the meditative interest of a scientist
engaged in working out some intricate and deeply interesting problem.
“I suppose I may not inquire how you propose to obtain this
satisfaction?” he said.
“You may inquire, but you will not be answered!” she retorted, smiling
darkly.
“Your intentions are pitiless?”
Still smiling, she said not a word.
“You are impenitent?”
She remained silent.
“And, worst of all, you do not desire redemption! You are one of those
who forever and ever cry, ‘Evil, be thou my good!’ Thus for you,
Christ died in vain!”
A faint tremor ran through her, but she was still mute.
“So you and creatures like you, must have their way in the world until
the end,” concluded the Doctor, thoughtfully. “And if all the
philosophers that ever lived were to pronounce you what you are, they
would be disbelieved and condemned as madmen! Well, Princess, I am
glad I have never at any time crossed your path till now, or given you
cause of offence against me. We part friends, I trust? Good-night!
Farewell!”
She held out her hand. He hesitated before taking it.
“Are you afraid?” she queried coldly. “It will not harm you!”
“I am afraid of nothing,” he said, at once clasping the white taper
fingers in his own, “except a bad conscience.”
“That will never trouble you!” and the Princess looked at him full and
steadily. “There are no dark corners in your life--no mean side-alleys
and trap-holes of deceit; you have walked on the open and straight
road. You are a good man and a wise one. But though you, in your
knowledge of spiritual things, recognize me for what I am, take my
advice and be silent on the matter. The world would never believe the
truth, even if you told it, for the time is not yet ripe for men and
women to recognize the avengers of their wicked deeds. They are kept
purposely in the dark lest the light should kill!”
And with her sombre eyes darkening, yet glowing with the inward fire
that always smouldered in their dazzling depths, she saluted him
gravely and gracefully, watching him to the last as he slowly
withdrew.
CHAPTER XV.
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