I was all on fire with expectation, and the time of going seemedexceeding long; so I was additionally disappointed by the contrast when Idid not see my Lady there when I arrived. However, my heart beat freelyagain--perhaps more freely than ever--when I saw her crouching in theshadow of the Castle wall. From where she was she could not be seen fromany point save that alone which I occupied; even from there it was onlyher white shroud that was conspicuous through the deep gloom of theshadow. The moonlight was so bright that the shadows were almostunnaturally black.
I rushed over towards her, and when close was about to say impulsively,"Why did you leave your tomb?" when it suddenly struck me that thequestion would be malapropos and embarrassing in many ways. So, betterjudgment prevailing, I said instead:
"It has been so long since I saw you! It has seemed an eternity to me!"Her answer came as quickly as even I could have wished; she spokeimpulsively and without thought:
"It has been long to me too! Oh, so long! so long! I have asked you tocome out here because I wanted to see you so much that I could not waitany longer. I have been heart-hungry for a sight of you!"
Her words, her eager attitude, the ineffable something which conveys themessages of the heart, the longing expression in her eyes as the fullmoonlight fell on her face, showing the stars as living gold--for in hereagerness she had stepped out towards me from the shadow--all set me onfire. Without a thought or a word--for it was Nature speaking in thelanguage of Love, which is a silent tongue--I stepped towards her andtook her in my arms. She yielded with that sweet unconsciousness whichis the perfection of Love, as if it was in obedience to some commanduttered before the beginning of the world. Probably without anyconscious effort on either side--I know there was none on mine--ourmouths met in the first kiss of love.
At the time nothing in the meeting struck me as out of the common. Butlater in the night, when I was alone and in darkness, whenever I thoughtof it all--its strangeness and its stranger rapture--I could not but besensible of the bizarre conditions for a love meeting. The place lonely,the time night, the man young and strong, and full of life and hope andambition; the woman, beautiful and ardent though she was, a womanseemingly dead, clothed in the shroud in which she had been wrapped whenlying in her tomb in the crypt of the old church.
Whilst we were together, anyhow, there was little thought of the kind; noreasoning of any kind on my part. Love has its own laws and its ownlogic. Under the flagstaff, where the Vissarion banner was wont to flapin the breeze, she was in my arms; her sweet breath was on my face; herheart was beating against my own. What need was there for reason at all?_Inter arma silent leges_--the voice of reason is silent in the stress ofpassion. Dead she may be, or Un-dead--a Vampire with one foot in Helland one on earth. But I love her; and come what may, here or hereafter,she is mine. As my mate, we shall fare along together, whatsoever theend may be, or wheresoever our path may lead. If she is indeed to be wonfrom the nethermost Hell, then be mine the task!
But to go back to the record. When I had once started speaking to her inwords of passion I could not stop. I did not want to--if I could; andshe did not appear to wish it either. Can there be a woman--alive ordead--who would not want to hear the rapture of her lover expressed toher whilst she is enclosed in his arms?
There was no attempt at reticence on my part now; I took it for grantedthat she knew all that I surmised, and, as she made neither protest norcomment, that she accepted my belief as to her indeterminate existence.Sometimes her eyes would be closed, but even then the rapture of her facewas almost beyond belief. Then, when the beautiful eyes would open andgaze on me, the stars that were in them would shine and scintillate asthough they were formed of living fire. She said little, very little;but though the words were few, every syllable was fraught with love, andwent straight to the very core of my heart.
By-and-by, when our transport had calmed to joy, I asked when I mightnext see her, and how and where I might find her when I should want to.She did not reply directly, but, holding me close in her arms, whisperedin my ear with that breathless softness which is a lover's rapture ofspeech:
"I have come here under terrible difficulties, not only because I loveyou--and that would be enough--but because, as well as the joy of seeingyou, I wanted to warn you."
"To warn me! Why?" I queried. Her reply came with a bashful hesitation,with something of a struggle in it, as of one who for some ulteriorreason had to pick her words:
"There are difficulties and dangers ahead of you. You are beset withthem; and they are all the greater because they are, of grim necessity,hidden from you. You cannot go anywhere, look in any direction, doanything, say anything, but it may be a signal for danger. My dear, itlurks everywhere--in the light as well as in the darkness; in the open aswell as in the secret places; from friends as well as foes; when you areleast prepared; when you may least expect it. Oh, I know it, and what itis to endure; for I share it for you--for your dear sake!"
"My darling!" was all I could say, as I drew her again closer to me andkissed her. After a bit she was calmer; seeing this, I came back to thesubject that she had--in part, at all events--come to me to speak about:
"But if difficulty and danger hedge me in so everlastingly, and if I amto have no indication whatever of its kind or purpose, what can I do?God knows I would willingly guard myself--not on my own account, but foryour dear sake. I have now a cause to live and be strong, and to keepall my faculties, since it may mean much to you. If you may not tell me
details, may you not indicate to me some line of conduct, of action, thatwould be most in accord with your wishes--or, rather, with your idea ofwhat would be best?"
She looked at me fixedly before speaking--a long, purposeful, loving lookwhich no man born of woman could misunderstand. Then she spoke slowly,deliberately, emphatically:
"Be bold, and fear not. Be true to yourself, to me--it is the samething. These are the best guards you can use. Your safety does not restwith me. Ah, I wish it did! I wish to God it did!" In my inner heartit thrilled me not merely to hear the expression of her wish, but to hearher use the name of God as she did. I understand now, in the calm ofthis place and with the sunlight before me, that my belief as to herbeing all woman--living woman--was not quite dead: but though at themoment my heart did not recognize the doubt, my brain did. And I made upmy mind that we should not part this time until she knew that I had seenher, and where; but, despite my own thoughts, my outer ears listenedgreedily as she went on.
"As for me, you may not find _me_, but _I_ shall find _you_, be sure!And now we must say 'Good-night,' my dear, my dear! Tell me once againthat you love me, for it is a sweetness that one does not wish toforego--even one who wears such a garment as this--and rests where I mustrest." As she spoke she held up part of her cerements for me to see.What could I do but take her once again in my arms and hold her close,close. God knows it was all in love; but it was passionate love whichsurged through my every vein as I strained her dear body to mine. Butyet this embrace was not selfish; it was not all an expression of my ownpassion. It was based on pity--the pity which is twin-born with truelove. Breathless from our kisses, when presently we released each other,she stood in a glorious rapture, like a white spirit in the moonlight,and as her lovely, starlit eyes seemed to devour me, she spoke in alanguorous ecstasy:
"Oh, how you love me! how you love me! It is worth all I have gonethrough for this, even to wearing this terrible drapery." And again shepointed to her shroud.
Here was my chance to speak of what I knew, and I took it. "I know, Iknow. Moreover, I know that awful resting-place."
I was interrupted, cut short in the midst of my sentence, not by anyword, but by the frightened look in her eyes and the fear-mastered way inwhich she shrank away from me. I suppose in reality she could not bepaler than she looked when the colour-absorbing moonlight fell on her;but on the instant all semblance of living seemed to shrink and fallaway, and she looked with eyes of dread as if in I some awful way held inthrall. But for the movement of the pitiful glance, she would haveseemed of soulless marble, so deadly cold did she look.
The moments that dragged themselves out whilst I waited for her to speakseemed endless. At length her words came in an awed whisper, so faintthat even in that stilly night I could hardly hear it:
"You know--you know my resting-place! How--when was that?" There wasnothing to do now but to speak out the truth:
"I was in the crypt of St. Sava. It was all by accident. I wasexploring all around the Castle, and I went there in my course. I foundthe winding stair in the rock behind the screen, and went down. Dear, Iloved you well before that awful moment, but then, even as the lanternfell tingling on the glass, my love multiplied itself, with pity as afactor." She was silent for a few seconds. When she spoke, there was anew tone in her voice:
"But were you not shocked?"
"Of course I was," I answered on the spur of the moment, and I now thinkwisely. "Shocked is hardly the word. I was horrified beyond anythingthat words can convey that you--_you_ should have to so endure! I didnot like to return, for I feared lest my doing so might set some barrierbetween us. But in due time I did return on another day."
"Well?" Her voice was like sweet music.
"I had another shock that time, worse than before, for you were notthere. Then indeed it was that I knew to myself how dear you were--howdear you are to me. Whilst I live, you--living or dead--shall always bein my heart." She breathed hard. The elation in her eyes made themoutshine the moonlight, but she said no word. I went on:
"My dear, I had come into the crypt full of courage and hope, though Iknew what dreadful sight should sear my eyes once again. But we littleknow what may be in store for us, no matter what we expect. I went outwith a heart like water from that dreadful desolation."