tlBRARY 
 
 THE DESTROYER
 
 THE DESTROYER 
 
 BY 
 
 BENJAMIN SWIFT 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 'NANCY NOON" AND "THE TORMENTOR" 
 
 NEW YORK 
 FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1898, 
 BY FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 
 
 PRESKWORK BY 
 THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A.
 
 To 
 
 M. MAURICE MAETERLINCK 
 
 Sir, 
 
 I offer these rude Northern chapters, not 
 because they are fit to be offered, but because 
 even a rude gift may be allowed to express a 
 sincere admiration. 
 
 Yours, with respect, 
 
 THE AUTHOR.
 
 NOTE 
 
 Most of the incidents in connection with the Siege of Paris 
 are taken from the Journal des Goncourt.
 
 "Piaga d'antor now si sana mat"
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 BOOK I. THE WRONG CHOICE. 
 
 CHAP. PACK 
 
 I. Makes Surprising Discoveries I 
 
 II. Finds Tragedy still Half Asleep 10 
 
 III. Sounds an Alarm Clock which Wakens Tragedy. . . 23 
 
 IV. Attends the Unburying of an Old Sin 45 
 
 V. Attends the Burying of an Old Sinner 64 
 
 VI. Thinks that Love Discovers Beauty where None 
 
 would See it 74 
 
 BOOK II. THE UNEASY LOVER 
 I. Discovers one of the Supreme Moments in the His- 
 tory of France, and of Two Englishmen in 
 
 II. L'Homme Joyeux 141 
 
 III. Perturbation 165 
 
 IV. The Doppelganger 189 
 
 V. Dreams 205 
 
 VI. ' ' Ah, Love ! Somewhat Let Be 220 
 
 BOOK III. THE TWIN SACRIFICE. 
 
 I. Mrs. Proudfoot Returns 241 
 
 II. The Plebeian Wins 253 
 
 III. The Elder Mrs. Proudfoot is Told the Truth 266 
 
 IV. Suspense 282 
 
 V. The Younger Mrs. Proudfoot is Told the Truth 296 
 
 VI. Light o' the Sun 306
 
 BOOK I 
 
 THE WRONG CHOICE
 
 THE DESTROYER 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 MAKES SURPRISING DISCOVERIES 
 
 WHEREAS Lady Rimmon had begun to talk 
 early about the sort of man she would choose for 
 a son-in-law, Sir Saul appeared to take no genuine 
 interest in that question. Whether he would be 
 fat or lean, dark or fair, even whether he was 
 going to be rich or poor, it seemed to matter 
 nothing to Sir Saul. 
 
 " But his temperament ! " said Lady Rimmon, 
 " that is the main thing." 
 
 " They're all choleric," replied Sir Saul. 
 
 He was too bored by his wife's suggestions, 
 especially when they referred to the spiritual 
 endowment of him whom Providence was to send 
 as their son. 
 
 " We should have had one of our own," he said, 
 and used to go whistling to the kennels.
 
 2 THE DESTROYER 
 
 Indeed, Sir Saul was almost always out of doors, 
 which was taken as a bad sign. He preferred his 
 hounds and jesses. He said he could keep his 
 hounds in leash well enough, whereas he never 
 could control the yelling pack of his wife's words. 
 
 " ' Yelling ! ' was the word your father used," 
 said Lady Rimmon to Violet, " as if I yell, and 
 I have never got over the way he described my 
 voice. He said my voice was an ' earsore ! ' That 
 was the voice which, when I married him, was ' a 
 bird's warble.' It agitated me for a week, and I 
 have never forgotten it." 
 
 But she accepted her illusions, and reserved all 
 her affection for her daughter. She determined 
 to discover a safe marriage. She felt it to be 
 surprising that Sir Saul had turned so careless on 
 a matter so grave. 
 
 " Let the girl decide," he said. 
 
 " But it is not her business, it is ours, you strange 
 man ! " she repeated until she drove him away 
 again. 
 
 " Men don't like emphatic women, mother," 
 said Violet. " Women who shake their heads at 
 every third word, you know." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Lady Rimmon, astonished.
 
 MAKES SURPRISING DISCOVERIES 3 
 
 It was the first time Violet had ventured to 
 give criticism and advice. 
 
 Lady Rimmon, in spite of similar provocations, 
 adored Violet, and had long ago decided that no 
 son-in-law could ever be good enough. Whoever 
 he was going to be, she hated him in advance. 
 Violet would be thrown away in any case, but, 
 at least, the shock could be made as mild as 
 possible. 
 
 " Now, child, tell me whom would it be ? " she 
 asked, allowing Violet for a moment to consider 
 the business as her own. 
 
 " Edgar," said Violet. 
 
 That was Edgar Besser, son of their rich 
 neighbor of Mulvey House ; " superb youth," as 
 was said, but with some awkward leanings towards 
 the priesthood. 
 
 " Edgar ! And you know he is perhaps a priest 
 already!" 
 
 " He'll not remain a priest. Leave me, mother, 
 please," said Violet. 
 
 Lady Rimmon thought that if she had a strange 
 husband she had now a frantic child. She could 
 make headway with neither of them. In vain 
 she had told Violet that whether Edgar Besser
 
 4 THE DESTROYER 
 
 a good enough family to be sure was going 
 to be a priest or not, he never would be her 
 choice, and therefore never could be her daugh- 
 ter's. 
 
 " Edgar ! " persisted Violet, even till the very 
 night she saw him drive past with his luggage on 
 his way to Oxford. And, at any rate, a prospec- 
 tive young priest, driving in his father's carriage, 
 clasping a missal, should hardly have risen in the 
 carriage and kissed his hand. He should have 
 been kissing his missal rather unless, perhaps, 
 the lips of his missal were already found to be 
 too cold. It all seemed to mean that one day he 
 might come driving as rapidly back again. At 
 least so pondered Violet. Not once or twice a 
 hand waved to her through dreams as if to warn 
 her he was coming, and she felt the power of 
 that dream-gesture. And she may have been 
 right when she wrote in her book that " Many a 
 cathedral priest is doubtless an exiled and dis- 
 guised priest of Apollo, and swings a sad censer." 
 But Edgar was not yet a priest. He was merely 
 studying at Oxford, although his friends proph- 
 esied that sooner or later the Catholic Church 
 would be his goal.
 
 MAKES SURPRISING DISCOVERIES 5 
 
 " It is all Edgar, Edgar, with her yet ! " ex- 
 claimed Lady Rimmon to Sir Saul. 
 
 " What about it ? " said he. 
 
 Violet was drooping, and it became necessary 
 to look for guidance and advice elsewhere. But, 
 indeed, Lady Rimmon seldom turned to her 
 husband for advice, and usually applied to her 
 brother, Prince Euxine, who was their invariable 
 guest at regular intervals. The Prince's visits 
 used to occur so often, and took so long to ex- 
 pire, that Sir Saul had years ago discovered his 
 brother-in-law to be insufferable. There was no 
 other word. During the first months of his mar- 
 riage it was doubtless a desirable thing to enter 
 a club with a prince as kinsman. But that vanity 
 had long ago worn off. The Prince began to 
 develop surprising migratory habits, and he in- 
 variably hibernated at Rimmon House. His 
 letters announcing his arrival always ended with : 
 " And now I am coming to bow in the House of 
 Rimmon." There was no bowing him out. Sir 
 Saul had long ago discovered the futility of an 
 " international marriage." " We will do good to 
 each other," Prince Euxine used to say. " We 
 will break down racial animosities after you wed 
 my sister, you know, Saul."
 
 6 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " These Russians ! " exclaimed Sir Saul, when 
 his house was overrun by his wife's kindred. 
 
 Lady Rimmon, subduing her voice for once 
 with success, only looked very steadily across the 
 breakfast-table by way of feminine rebuke, when 
 Sir Saul muttered an oath over any fresh an- 
 nouncement of the Prince's arrival. 
 
 " I hope he's his own cigars this time, ma'am, 
 that's all." 
 
 But he always came smiling to the gate, and 
 brought the Prince grandly and brotherly in. 
 Lady Rimmon longed for her brother's arrival, 
 because, in spite of what might have been ex- 
 pected to the contrary, Sir Saul became more 
 amiable during his visits. If he treated him with 
 inward contempt, he also showed full outward 
 respect, and it was even said that Euxine was the 
 only one who could " manage " Sir Saul, and that 
 in some way Sir Saul feared him. 
 
 A certain gloom was settling on Rimmon 
 House, but it was sometimes lifted when the 
 Prince came. Sir Saul, Lady Rimmon, and the 
 proud Violet found things stifling when given up 
 to each other's company. 
 
 " You see," wrote Violet in her journal, " how
 
 MAKES SURPRISING DISCOVERIES / 
 
 many small jagging miseries accumulate like 
 needles when two or three people come together." 
 
 " Your father is so strange, Violet strange and 
 capricious," said Lady Rimmon. 
 
 " You mean selfish," replied Violet. 
 
 Lady Rimmon fell to weeping, and said she was 
 a persecuted woman. " You know what I have 
 suffered. We are being talked about, and I feel 
 that things are coming to a height in this house." 
 
 " Yes," said Violet, " and I've grown up in an 
 atmosphere of suspicion and dread stifling it is 
 and I've never heard anything except yours 
 and father's muffled anger." 
 
 " Child, is it my fault ? Do I not wish to see 
 you well out of it ? I see now that English and 
 Russian tempers never will agree. We are lions 
 and bears trying to live in the same cage. And 
 yet I've become absolutely English for him," said 
 Lady Rimmon. 
 
 But then she broke off to talk more excitedly. 
 
 " I wish one thing, Violet," she said. " Will 
 you follow your father some day through the 
 wood in the afternoon when he goes out ? " 
 
 " No," said Violet, and hastily left the room. 
 
 It was not the first time that that request had
 
 8 THE DESTROYER 
 
 been made, and the same answer returned in the 
 same way. 
 
 Although Prince Euxine knew a good deal of 
 the inner privacy of his sister's household, he 
 would have been surprised to be told that quar- 
 rels occurred so often, and with such rapidity. 
 The cause lay far deeper than in a mere collision 
 of temperaments. That would have been bad 
 enough, but it was an effect rather than a cause. 
 Subtle inquiries, not advanced in words, but in 
 looks and gestures between Sir Saul and Lady 
 Rimmon, and between Violet and Sir Saul had 
 been growing sharper and sharper of late. Lady 
 Rimmon stood before the impalpable truth of a 
 coming disgrace with the sort of feeling a child 
 has when it doesn't know the meaning of a word, 
 but guesses that it means something unclean. 
 
 " Follow him through the wood, do ! " she said 
 in haste to Cubitt, the woodman, whom, in her 
 desperation, she had made her confidant. " Quick ! 
 he has gone this moment ! Keep well behind ! " 
 
 She delayed to bring her suspicions to Euxine 
 only till they were all horribly ripe. It must 
 have been at that time that Violet, whose intelli- 
 gence was much swifter than her mother's, and
 
 MAKES SURPRISING DISCOVERIES 9 
 
 was long ago in possession of the truth that made 
 the House of Rimmon bow down, never to rise 
 any more I say, it must have been in those days 
 of sickening mistrust -and innuendo that Violet 
 wrote in her journal : " Marriage fails if it is 
 founded on the fiction of the permanence of the 
 emotions. If the emotions were permanent, they 
 would not be emotions. Emotion comes in tides. 
 Everything is episodic, even vice." 
 
 " I feel ... I do," exclaimed Lady Rimmon, 
 sinking into her chair, and covering her face with 
 her hands, and ruining her bodice by twisting her- 
 self within it, " that I have been living with a bad 
 man for years I "
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 FINDS TRAGEDY STILL HALF ASLEEP 
 
 PRINCE EUXINE never lost anytime in making 
 himself at home. The first thing the valet had 
 to do was to remove his white gaiters and walking 
 shoes, and bring a pair of riding boots. 
 
 " Whiten the gaiters, boy, and take this hat 
 and steam it. Don't let the iron be too hot else 
 you'll burn the silk." 
 
 The servants at Rimmon House had a peculiar 
 contempt for the Prince. 
 
 " Think o' one o' our English princes steamin' 
 his old hats, and gettin' gaiters whitened ! " 
 
 He used to bring a shabby English man-servant 
 with him in frayed clothes, who shaved him in 
 the morning, and told tales in the servants' hall. 
 
 "The Prince is parsimonious on soap," he said, 
 " I daren't waste it. I put on a thin, watery 
 lather, and then he complains about me scraping 
 
 his chin. As if such a beard don't require pails 
 IO
 
 FINDS TRAGEDY STILL HALF ASLEEP II 
 
 o' soap to soften it ! I feel inclined to cut out 
 that mustache o' his. I would make 'im look 
 better, don't ye think ? " 
 
 " Better ! not it. His skin is like a pig's back," 
 said one irreverently. " Our aristocracies' skin's 
 prime clear and soft." 
 
 " A prince ! A Russian prince ! Our Sir 
 Saul's more a prince than 'im. If you saw our 
 gold plate and the dishes, and her ladyship's 
 dresses, and Miss Violet's, it would make your 
 court dim-tawdry ! " 
 
 While Sir Saul's household cried up his pos- 
 sessions, Prince Euxine's man was never content 
 till he made his master appear to be a hopelessly 
 indigent aristocrat. 
 
 " We're rich paupers," said he. 
 
 " It's like it," said they. " What's he coming 
 living on us for ? Blessing for 'im that his sister 
 married our Sir Saul." 
 
 But of course the Prince received obsequious 
 bows if he met any of the servants about the 
 grounds. They even admitted that he seemed to 
 have as much authority on the estate as Sir Saul. 
 The chief peasant, old Isaac Dagon, always 
 brought round to the main door, an hour after
 
 12 THE DESTROYER 
 
 the Prince's arrival, the dappled gray mare. It 
 was on this animal which Sir Saul allotted to 
 his brother-in-law because, as he said, it was only 
 fit to carry old women to picnics that the Prince 
 made excursions into the woods and fields to see 
 what progress was being made round the home 
 farm. 
 
 " And what sort o' home farm have he? " asked 
 the Rimmon servants in scorn. " We'd be 
 ashamed to be an Englishman like you serving 
 such a poor lord." 
 
 " That's true," said the dejected menial, " but 
 we must take no less than we get. Home farm ! 
 Ho, ho ! nothing grows there but snow in the 
 winter and ants and field mice in the spring. It's 
 a moor." 
 
 The Prince described it otherwise. 
 
 " You remember," he said to Lady Rimmon, 
 " the wood, our wood where I used to do tiaga ? * 
 Well, I have cut a great deal of it down, and I 
 think Saul should do the same here," and he 
 pointed in the direction he meant. 
 
 " I'm sure Saul will do it, Euxy," said Lady 
 Rimmon. 
 
 * A Russian practise of waiting for game in the woods at dusk.
 
 FINDS TRAGEDY STILL HALF ASLEEP 13 
 
 "And I'm sure Saul will do nothing of the 
 sort ! " said Sir Saul in private. 
 
 Prince Euxine had a passion for removing 
 trees, and if he had got his way he would have 
 made the Rimmon estate as bare as his own 
 moor. He enjoyed free winds and open lands. 
 
 It was always an event when he mounted the 
 dappled mare. Sir Saul, Lady Rimmon, and 
 old Isaac invariably assisted in case of any 
 accident when he made the supreme leap from 
 a chair or from the doorstep. He used to meet 
 old Moll with peace-offerings of sugar and 
 buns. 
 
 " Steady, old mistress do be steady ! " he said 
 in a humble key. 
 
 Probably he never would have mounted at all 
 had he not thought it becoming in a prince. He 
 fed the horse from the saddle, en chemin, as he 
 said, to keep it in continuous good-humor. The 
 mare sometimes stopped and turned its head in 
 expectancy without being bid. It was then that 
 Euxine ventured to use his riding-whip in a hesi- 
 tating way. But Moll knew how to keep back- 
 ing till the Prince surrendered and delivered 
 another ban don.
 
 14 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " Get on, greedy English beast ! " exclaimed 
 Euxine, and began to flog. 
 
 " He might as well ride a crab ! " said Sir Saul, 
 as he watched these regressive movements, and 
 then turned in to enjoy an hour's respite from 
 his brother-in-law's company. And it was always 
 that hour which Lady Rimmon chose to give the 
 last touches to her brother's apartments. 
 
 "The Prince is coming, you know," she used 
 to say to Edgar Besser's mother, " and we are 
 making preparations." 
 
 That was long ago ; Edgar Besser's mother 
 was dead, but the Prince was still periodically 
 announced as being on the way. 
 
 " You were talking about Violet's wedding," 
 he once said to Lady Rimmon, on his return 
 from an excursion with Moll, " eh, ma petite ? " 
 and he turned to Violet herself. 
 
 " Oh, no," said Violet, and left the room, with 
 a forced smile. 
 
 " Yes," said Lady Rimmon, as if she had a 
 great deal to communicate, and felt its oppressive- 
 ness. " Yes, Violet appears to me to be more 
 English than Russian. It may come from my 
 long stay in this country that she has taken on
 
 FINDS TRAGEDY STILL HALF ASLEEP 1$ 
 
 English ways. She has English pride, and takes 
 completely after Saul. . . . Well, we must talk. 
 We'll do nothing else all these months. And I'm 
 decided on one thing, Euxy the young man will 
 be good. I mean to lay stress on that on his 
 character, you know the shape of his soul, I 
 might say." 
 
 " The soul, sister, appears to be a matter of 
 zoology nowadays." 
 
 " Such days they are ! " said Lady Rimmon, as 
 if the age had brought a special affliction to her- 
 self. " The sin of the age is criticism ; everything 
 is criticised adversely from corsets to parents. 
 A child thinks nothing now of addressing her 
 mother as if she were an unpleasant tea-gown." 
 
 Euxine laughed, and lit one of his brother-in- 
 law's cigars. 
 
 " Where's Saul ? " he said. 
 
 " Oh, hes always out. Horses, dogs, game, 
 pigeons, rabbits, and and other things " (here 
 Lady Rimmon had been forming her lips to say 
 a word which fell to pieces in her mouth). 
 "That's what he's interested in. He should have 
 kept a menagerie ! " 
 
 " The world is largely a menagerie, Mathilde.
 
 l6 THE DESTROYER 
 
 Have you never thought how significant it is that 
 the coats-of-arms of the European nations are 
 made up of portraits of savage beasts. We've 
 the bear England the lion Germany and Aus- 
 tria hideous vultures. I think Siena was a bear 
 too, and Florence a lion. They shake hands with 
 each other in a Mosaic on the floor of Siena 
 cathedral, if I remember. Nothing ever looked 
 so impossible. It all points to the fact that the 
 world is a sort of frightful jungle. It does look 
 as if we had the beasts for ancestors, else why 
 would we keep that savage heraldry. Beaks and 
 claws are behind everything." 
 
 Euxine's general timidity made him a great en- 
 emy to all physical conflict. But he was far from 
 mild-looking. The mustache which his servant 
 condemned on esthetic grounds gave him rather 
 a fierce expression, which was augmented by the 
 red gloss of his face. Physical bravery and beauty 
 he had none. He had never been in the army, 
 and had spent an idle life maneuvering his scanty 
 patrimony with some skill. If he was interested 
 in anything it was in the usefulness of other 
 people to himself, and he always judged things 
 as a pure worldling. He would never make a
 
 FINDS TRAGEDY STILL HALF ASLEEP I/ 
 
 man an open enemy so long as he might be use- 
 ful. He had no love for his kinsman, Sir Saul, 
 but he knew he was valuable. Although he re- 
 mained a bachelor he had been a great marriage- 
 maker among other people, but it was generally 
 more to his own profit than to theirs. Violet 
 trembled for her uncle's officiousness. 
 
 The day was when she had had a full respect for 
 him, and now every one recognized it as a matter 
 of course, although Violet had long outgrown it. 
 
 " You are such a favorite with the Prince ! " 
 her friends used to say. 
 
 " Old dolt ! " she wrote in her book. 
 
 It was becoming difficult to keep up the fiction. 
 Violet felt that the day was past when the discus- 
 sion of any project should be reserved till his 
 arrival. She had been taught never to look for 
 any wisdom from her father, and always to turn 
 to the Prince. It was not long since he used to 
 take her on his knee, although, as he admitted 
 himself, she " had outgrown the situation." She 
 objected to the mustache, which pricked her like 
 a wire brush when it came too close. 
 
 " Oh, uncle, you're jaggy ! " she used to say. 
 
 Indeed, it did look as if Euxine was regretting
 
 18 THE DESTROYER 
 
 the English custom which forbids a union be- 
 tween an uncle and his niece. In Germany, where 
 the Prince had a small estate, it was different. If 
 he and Violet had been in Germany 
 
 " There is time, plenty," he used to say to his 
 sister when she urged him on the subject of 
 Violet's wedding. " We shall talk. I intend to 
 take time and be careful." 
 
 It seemed to be agreed on all sides that it was 
 the Prince who had the disposal of Violet's hand. 
 
 "The task of bridegroom-finding," he said, 
 " consists in a skilful process of selection and 
 omission ; winnowing, winnowing, until, by per- 
 petual rejection, you arrive at the few highest 
 types and then make your final choice. Leave it 
 to me, Saul and Mathilde." 
 
 Saul seemed willing and likewise Mathilde, 
 while Violet, guarding silence, felt satire pricking 
 her lip. 
 
 " Her eyes, you know ! " said Euxine to Ma- 
 thilde, " and then that Rimmon gait, which really 
 we must admire, although we were brought up to 
 other things." 
 
 There was certainly a great deal to talk about, 
 although Lady Rimmon's suspicions concerning
 
 FINDS TRAGEDY STILL HALF ASLEEP 19 
 
 Sir Saul were not yet full-grown. For instance, 
 Cubitt, the woodman, came running back with no 
 damnatory evidence. 
 
 " No, ladyship, I've searched the woods and 
 there's not a wench in't. I saw no red cheeks ex- 
 cept the cranberries ! Sir Saul went two miles 
 with his gun, and I came slow behind. He turned 
 at the big pond, shot two wood pigeons, and came 
 back the same road." 
 
 " Keep your tongue to yourself, then," said 
 Lady Rimmon, dropping a sovereign in his hand, 
 " and be ready when I need you." 
 
 She went to her room, and tried to chastise 
 herself out of suspicion. But could she ? Not 
 the least of her troubles, surely, was the astound- 
 ing fact, long known to the neighborhood and 
 only slowly brought home to herself, that Violet's 
 beauty, which was indisputable, was somehow 
 shared by a little peasant girl in their midst, 
 Miriam Dagon. Lady Rimmon had seen it 
 herself, and had at first simply expressed her 
 astonishment at Nature's freaks : at which all 
 the women " teheed ! " 
 
 " Simple Lady Rimmon ! " they said after- 
 wards.
 
 20 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " Now, if two women met and saw at a glance 
 that they resembled each other very much, Euxy, 
 they would feel indignant, wouldn't they? " 
 
 " Almost more indignant," replied Euxine, 
 " than if their dresses at a ball happened to be of 
 the same stuff and made in the same way. But 
 what do you mean ? " 
 
 Lady Rimmon burst out weeping until her 
 brother had to go and take her by the hand. 
 
 "What is it, Mathilde?" 
 
 She had never really brought herself to face 
 this perturbing truth. She refused to possess it, 
 and wanted to see if her brother would refuse it 
 also as the wicked hallucination of her own and 
 other people's brains. 
 
 "That peasant you've heard about! Saul's 
 slave ! " It was a Russian habit which made her 
 talk of slaves. 
 
 She said no more, but looked anxiously at her 
 brother. Unluckily, she saw a dark smile pass 
 over his face, and he slightly protruded his tongue, 
 and pressed it against his upper lip, as he always 
 did when he discovered quirks in men and things. 
 He had known it, then. 
 
 " Oh gracious, is it true ? " cried Lady Rim-
 
 FINDS TRAGEDY STILL HALF ASLEEP 21 
 
 mon in a sore paroxysm. " I know it. Oh ! . . . 
 Oh help me, Euxy is it ? " and she bent her 
 body double. 
 
 But Euxine asked her what she meant. He 
 said he didn't understand. 
 
 " True ? What ? " 
 
 " Why did you smile ? " she cried ; " it was 
 wicked of you ! " 
 
 " Smile ? I was thinking of other things, 
 Mathilde. You're hysterical ; I don't see what 
 you mean. Tell me." 
 
 " Oh, no," she said, " I'm glad you don't see. 
 I'm ill just ; it's nerves. I'm always afraid some- 
 thing bad will happen, and I lose control of my- 
 self." 
 
 She went to her room, while Euxine smiled 
 and smiled, and contracted his eyes, and nodded 
 his head ever so gently. He looked very closely 
 at Sir Saul all that day, while they spoke about 
 hedging and ditching. His scrutiny of Violet was 
 likewise as persistent though it attracted no at- 
 tention. In the afternoon old Moll was brought 
 round, and after the Prince had gone successfully 
 through the ordeal of jumping on her back, she 
 ambled with him through the estate towards the
 
 22 THE DESTROYER 
 
 home farm where was " the little peasant." But 
 before he started he went softly to his sister's 
 room, where he found her still sobbing. 
 
 " Oh, I'm better," she said. 
 
 " I've kept the best news till the end," he said. 
 " I've got a splendid proposal for Violet. I 
 wished to give you a surprise." 
 
 " Oh, who is it ? " said Lady Rimmon, rallying 
 and brightening. " How good of you ! Yes, I'm 
 living for her." 
 
 " I'll tell you when I come back," he said. 
 " Think." 
 
 " Oh, tell me just now, Euxy ! " 
 
 But he went, saying : " Ta, ta."
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 SOUNDS AN ALARUM CLOCK WHICH WAKENS 
 TRAGEDY 
 
 Now it may have been a compliment to Miriam 
 Dagon, old Isaac's child as we were once all 
 given to understand when she heard that she 
 resembled Miss Violet, but it could be nothing 
 except distressing news for Violet. That Nature, 
 prodigal of types, should have fixed a resemblance 
 so startling between well-born and base-born 
 seemed sufficiently intolerable, but it was pecul- 
 iarly malicious to place them in sight of each 
 other. Yet there could be no serious question of 
 the truth. Violet was twenty-three and Miriam 
 only seventeen, and, of course, the one was full- 
 formed, whereas the other was a raw girl. Yet 
 the difference of age and full development only 
 served to emphasize the peculiarity of the resem- 
 blance between them. Violet had got to know 
 it early, not suddenly, but with a creeping sense 
 
 23
 
 24 THE DESTROYER 
 
 of bewilderment as her intelligence began to grasp 
 the possibilities of moral mishap. It had colored 
 all her girlhood somberly. It had made her 
 silent when she should have laughed in gay rip- 
 ples. She felt a sense of something wrong, but 
 it was already so complex a feeling that she could 
 not reduce it to its cause. She had played with 
 Miriam although six years were between them. 
 They had played together in innocence, which 
 seemed cruelly naive in face of what all the coun- 
 tryside was saying. And then Miriam got to 
 know it much later, with as keen a surprise but 
 it was more vanity than surprise. It became at 
 first pure foolish delight. Each single individual, 
 old Isaac for one, for instance, got to know it, 
 some sooner, some later Isaac got to know it 
 very late by a sort of unseen process of revela- 
 tion which was really the result of unconscious 
 stages of sight and hearing. We are surprised 
 that Mulvey tolerated Sir Saul so long. But 
 there were causes for that ; also it is easy enough 
 to say that if the parties interested had had any 
 wits Miriam could have been removed as a baby. 
 Would that have been easy ? That would have 
 brought things more swiftly still to a more ugly
 
 SOUNDS AN ALARUM CLOCK 2$ 
 
 height. Would Isaac have allowed his dear baby, 
 as he supposed her to be, or his child when she 
 was two years, or four years, or even eight years 
 old, to be sent suddenly off to the neighboring 
 shire, or to a big town, for instance, or anywhere 
 else? 
 
 It would have been interesting to have had 
 photographs of these children at the same rela- 
 tive periods as they grew up. But, of course, it 
 was meantime well for them and for others that 
 no such minute record of their physiognomy was 
 preserved. It was just because little Miriam was 
 allowed to grow up in an obscure corner of the 
 home farm, her face bespattered with the mud of 
 Sir Saul's lands, so that nobody could recognize 
 what sort of face it was, or was going to be, her 
 little hands all grimy from assiduous work in Sir 
 Saul's byres and stables, that her recognition was 
 so long put off. But the day, of course, did ar- 
 rive when Miriam, becoming audacious she be- 
 came very audacious washed her face only to 
 discover blemishes of an unwashable sort on the 
 faces of some other people. It was when she 
 was about twelve or fourteen, and used to sit in 
 church in her crimson frock, that neighbors used
 
 26 THE DESTROYER 
 
 to say : " Really, the child looks something finer 
 than the Dagon's heyday ! " Alas ! then, what 
 if Nature has just those freaks which you compel 
 her to have ! 
 
 One thing was obvious in those later years 
 that if Miriam had been of a build less robust, if 
 her lips had been less full, and her hair slightly 
 finer in texture, she might have passed for a 
 younger sister of Violet. It would be going too 
 far to say that if Miriam had been dressed in 
 Violet's clothes, and especially if she had been 
 running over the cornfields at a distance, she 
 would have been taken for Violet ; yet some of 
 the women maintained it when Miriam came to 
 be nineteen and in a case like this women might 
 be accepted as reliable judges of the appearance 
 of their own sex. 
 
 But it was long since that Violet and Miriam 
 had been running across the hayfields or wading 
 together in Sir Saul's pond. Whenever Violet 
 approached, Miriam now used to run across the 
 paths which cut through the cornlands, and which 
 were generally in August long red lanes of pop- 
 pies. And as for Violet, she now spent most 
 of her time in looking at the world from the
 
 SOUNDS AN ALARUM CLOCK 27 
 
 pages of her journal, and in studying her par- 
 ents. But she already seemed to know all about 
 them. 
 
 Miriam grew up to be audacious, it was said. 
 For instance, when she was not more than nine, 
 she once met Sir Saul in the woods killing game. 
 He was swinging a magnificent pheasant by the 
 legs. Miriam crouched behind a tree, and then 
 scampered off. 
 
 "Mir! Mir!" cried Sir Saul. 
 
 She stopped and came back, but shrunk away 
 again. He caught her in his arms, and the pheas- 
 ant's feathers brushed against her face, leaving a 
 spot of hot blood. 
 
 "See this pretty bird!" said Sir Saul, sitting 
 down and taking her between his knees. " Why 
 did you run?" 
 
 "Because you're wicked," said the little minx, 
 "killing pretty beasts and birdies." 
 
 " Wicked ! " he said ; " look at me ! " 
 
 She looked up in his face with the tears of shy- 
 ness in her eyes, and then bent down her sturdy 
 neck. He took her by the chin, and lifted her 
 face up again. 
 
 " Wicked, eh, little hussey ? "
 
 28 THE DESTROYER 
 
 "Yes, you're wicked and old! " replied Miriam, 
 with petulant emphasis. 
 
 She dodged successfully under the circle of Sir 
 Saul's arms, and was soon lost to view. 
 
 " Hey ! " said he, and sat talking interjections 
 and monosyllables in the sun. 
 
 "'Wicked and old!'" 
 
 He took the pheasant's limp neck, and stiffened 
 it up between his fingers. He opened the beak 
 and looked in, and then drew up the closing eyelid. 
 
 " ' Wicked and old ! ' I Ve heard before that 
 they sometimes go together." 
 
 And he was troubled for some short time by 
 that wisdom out of the mouth of babes. 
 
 But those early years slipped by, and Miriam 
 began to give pretty curtsies instead of unpleas- 
 ant adjectives. She used to come tripping back 
 to Mother Dagon to say : " Oh, Sir Saul's given 
 me two shillings ! Sir Saul's given me five ! Sir 
 Saul's given me ten ! " 
 
 " Keep in 'e house," said buxom Mother Dagon 
 in a flutter, " and don't go pushing yourself for- 
 ward." 
 
 Mother Dagon was Isaac's second wife, and 
 was at least fifteen years younger.
 
 SOUNDS AN ALARUM CLOCK 29 
 
 " I'll marry 'er," Isaac said once to Sir Saul, 
 " marry 'er, if ye'll permit it, sir. She's skill in 
 liftin' cream, and since the old wife died the cows 
 have drooped." 
 
 Permission was given, and the new Mother 
 Dagon, as she was called to keep up the familiar 
 name, came to the home farm with the freshest 
 cheeks and best petticoats that all Mulvey had 
 ever seen. 
 
 When Miriam was born, old Isaac received Sir 
 Saul's chaff good-naturedly and in ignorance of 
 its meaning. 
 
 " Aye, in old days, sir," said Isaac, stroking his 
 gray beard and laughing, and straightening his 
 back, " it's like kindling some new fire at 'e hearth, 
 it is." 
 
 " It is," said Sir Saul, as he gave a present of 
 money. But of course it was much later that he 
 discovered the appropriateness of Isaac's speech. 
 For that " new fire " did kindle and made things 
 much too warm for everybody at those hearths. 
 
 " For all the world," said Lady Rimmon, 
 after Miriam had come to receive a present 
 on her fifteenth birthday, " their noses are the 
 same."
 
 30 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " They're nothing of the sort," said Sir Saul, 
 " and what although ? " 
 
 " So funny, if not awkward and displeasing. 
 It's the Rimmon nose," continued her ladyship. 
 " I never knew anything so foolish." And then 
 since foolish things should be laughed at, she 
 laughed over it as heartily as she could. But 
 some say these were only subtle feminine thrusts 
 and arrows to find the truth, as yet all well con- 
 trolled, and that it was much later she broke 
 down. 
 
 " You might as well say it's the Roman nose," 
 retorted Sir Saul. 
 
 At any rate, the Rimmon nose formed a fault- 
 less line from the brow, and even Lady Rimmon 
 had to admit that, whereas in Violet's case the 
 line was perfect, in Miriam's there was a hesitancy 
 at the point. 
 
 " Turned up, in other words," said Sir Saul, " as 
 it should be. Stop talking nonsense." 
 
 In short, taken all round, Miriam was, as was 
 only to be expected, molded on a much rougher 
 pattern. 
 
 " Oh yes," said Lady Rimmon to herself, " and 
 then the feet, you know, and the coarseness of
 
 SOUNDS AN ALARUM CLOCK 3! 
 
 the creature's skin, her vulgar eyes, hands, boots 
 . . . petticoats . . . Oh, I am dreaming ! I'm a 
 foolish woman ! " 
 
 But she was sure to contradict herself next day, 
 and to discover new resemblances. In a sort of 
 dread which she could hardly explain to herself 
 she took care that Miriam was kept out of sight 
 when Euxine came. 
 
 All this was matter of congratulation, at first, 
 among Miriam's peasant friends, and Cubitt, her 
 lover (for she had now a lover) dressed in cordu- 
 roys, and working as plow lad and planter under 
 old Isaac on the Rimmon estate was envied all 
 round. But he was told jestingly by his friends 
 not to mistake mistress for maid, as he might do 
 in the woods at dusk, for instance, and so get 
 himself into difficulty. 
 
 " Oh, it's not true ! " said Miriam, when Cubitt 
 praised her beauty. 
 
 But her mirror contradicted her and agreed 
 with Cubitt. Surely, besides, mirrors tell lies 
 only when they make us ugly. 
 
 " Oh, it be true ! " said Cubitt in raptures. 
 
 " And why not ? " he added, after he had said 
 she was the loveliest of all the maids of Mulvey.
 
 32 THE DESTROYER 
 
 Moreover, Miriam had caught on airs not to be 
 expected among the peasantry. For instance, it 
 pleased her little to talk peasant talk, and she 
 objected when the low-roofed barn was reeking 
 with the men's pipes in the evening. She used 
 to throw open the doors and windows imperi- 
 ously, while Mother Dagon checked her for her 
 insolence, and hastily closed them again. But 
 old Isaac encouraged Miriam with many a laugh 
 when she corrected Cubitt's grammar. 
 
 " Our Mir'll be goin' for to become a great miss 
 like Miss Violet, I'll be sure," said he over his 
 beer at night. " Ye'll be keepin' the pace with 
 'er, Cubitt?" 
 
 Cubitt longed to be grammatical. 
 
 " And you'll come and give me a rub up with 
 learnin' o' nights," he said to the schoolmaster. 
 ' Mir'll be fine and so would I." 
 
 But it was not merely a question of grammar 
 which threatened to separate Miriam and Cubitt. 
 She seemed to take a stride in advance every 
 year. Her mother strove to keep her well in the 
 background, but Miriam was always pushing her- 
 self forward. And when one day she came home, 
 saying that, as she was running across the corn-
 
 SOUNDS AN ALARUM CLOCK 33 
 
 fields, a gentleman, mistaking her for Miss Violet, 
 had called out " Violet, Violet ! " Mother Dagon 
 could eat nothing all that day. 
 
 " Ye'll ape the big folks ! " said Mother Dagon, 
 facing her, and then turning away while Miriam 
 giggled. 
 
 To Isaac's amusement Miriam could hardly be 
 got to make a bed or cook a potato. She used 
 to watch Cubitt and the old man plowing Sir 
 Saul's land, and when Cubitt came up with a can 
 of buttermilk, when the sun was high, " Ugh ! " 
 she said, " what stuff ! " 
 
 " Eh ! " said Cubitt, returning to Isaac, " the 
 milk's too sour for Mir, maybe," until Isaac made 
 the plow handles shake with his laughing. 
 
 If she troubled herself with the corn sheaves it 
 was to take out the poppies and blue corn flowers 
 and bind them round her throat. Mother Dagon 
 was all the more incensed since she was herself so 
 industrious and shy. 
 
 " 'Deed, ye're no like me who would rather run 
 than stand in her ladyship's way. What are ye 
 thinkin' of? " 
 
 When Lady Rimmon came to the home farm 
 Mother Dagon used to be as good as her word, 
 3
 
 34 THE DESTROYER 
 
 and run and shut herself in her room ; whereas 
 Miriam used to saunter about the dairy, and come 
 round eating nuts and berries. When Mother 
 Dagon was called to give an account of her stew- 
 ardship of the cows and poultry, she came trem- 
 bling and curtseying with a " God-bless-you- 
 ma'am ! " 
 
 " Keep back, Mir, keep back," said Mother 
 Dagon, edging between Miriam and Lady Rim- 
 mon. 
 
 Certainly there was never a better dairy-woman 
 than Mother Dagon. Cows and hens were re- 
 ported to be flourishing, and were always discov- 
 ered to be so. Never were the milk-pails brighter, 
 and all Mulvey knew that Mother Dagon's butter 
 was the best ever made. Lady Rimmon never 
 had a fault to find. 
 
 " I would send your girl into the town to do 
 sewing or something," said Lady Rimmon, eying 
 Miriam. 
 
 " Anything you suggest, ma'am," said Mother 
 Dagon, folding her hands, and letting her eyes 
 fall. 
 
 " Come here," said Lady Rimmon, as she lifted 
 her glasses to her eyes.
 
 SOUNDS AN ALARUM CLOCK 35 
 
 Miriam came forward, while her mother began 
 to rub needlessly, with a dry linen cloth, the 
 shining rim of a milk-pail. 
 
 Lady Rimmon surveyed Miriam a long time 
 without speaking. 
 
 " You're like a wild thing of the woods." 
 
 "Yes, ma'am." 
 
 " You're getting a big girl. Would you not 
 like to go and learn needlework ? " 
 
 " No, ma'am." 
 
 " Don't say no to her ladyship," said Mother 
 Dagon. 
 
 " But her ladyship asked me what I would like," 
 replied Miriam. 
 
 Miriam's dark eyes were fixed on Lady Rim- 
 mon, who was not pleased with their defiance. 
 
 " Learn to look more gently, girl," she said. 
 
 " Yes, ma'am," and Miriam dropped a curtsey 
 prettily. 
 
 Lady Rimmon went back in a curious mood. 
 " Upon my word ! " she said, " upon my word ! " 
 feeling a slight convulsion among her nerves, and 
 poking the soft earth with her parasol until a 
 worm crawled away. 
 
 It was good that the countryside owed so much
 
 36 THE DESTROYER 
 
 to Sir Saul. All Mulvey, indeed, was his debtor, 
 so that if any one ventured to drop a surprising 
 hint about the baronet, he took care to explain it 
 away again, and generally ended up with denying 
 that he ever had dropped it. Mother Dagon's 
 reputation was meantime safe, because of the 
 cowardice which prevented her enemies attacking 
 her. Isaac was allowed to sleep since he was too 
 dull to discover things for himself. Sir Saul's 
 munificence to the neighborhood was too highly 
 valued, his benefactions were too solid for any 
 one to run the risk of forfeiting them by investi- 
 gating incidents that might turn out in the end 
 to have occurred so obscurely as to be no longer 
 capable of proof. And yet, in spite of this con- 
 spiracy of silence, there was now and again a low 
 " Ha ! ha ! " muttered and ejaculated all over the 
 countryside, a low " Ha ! ha ! " which might any 
 day become an ugly roar to shake the old House 
 of Rimmon to its foundations. 
 
 "You see," observed the silent Violet in her 
 journal, " how the state of the world's emotions 
 depends on the state of its finances. These 
 people know all about it. But because my father 
 gives them loads of coal in winter, and hundreds
 
 SOUNDS AN ALARUM CLOCK 37 
 
 of rabbits in autumn, fruit in summer, milk, bread, 
 flour, potatoes, everything, in short, they suppress 
 their moral conscience for the sake of Economics. 
 Your moral indignation will run the chance of 
 being curiously enfeebled if the person to whom 
 it is addressed happens to be your benefactor. 
 Even if you inwardly condemn him, you will let 
 him alone in public. My father ! I loathe him. 
 But I don't know how to act. A terrible struggle 
 may be coming. Poor mamma ! . . . I wonder 
 how Besser is. He will not remain a priest. Oh, 
 I am sick ! " 
 
 Violet looked about for consolation but found 
 none. She was delicately reticent to her mother 
 whom she pitied. She had long discovered the 
 tyranny of other wills, centuries back, over her 
 own. " We are all projections of a moving line 
 far behind us," she said, " and we help to push it 
 further." But Violet tried to accept resignedly 
 that subtlety of her fate. " They have made me 
 handsome, and thoughtful," she said, " those 
 climbing centuries, climbing up to me ! They 
 have been working out this Rimmon type. I 
 must accept the bitter with the sweet. But the 
 bitter is very bitter. What right has the peasant
 
 38 THE DESTROYER 
 
 Miriam, my father's slave, to the distinction of the 
 Rimmons? We are old, and are traced back to 
 ancient Syrian greatness. It is a belief that my 
 ancestors were priests of Naaman's God, and were 
 given the honor of his name. And here, in Eng- 
 land, the stock was to be vulgarized . . . Miriam 
 is like me ! Think of the awkwardness when my 
 lover comes . . . Half a woman's charm consists 
 in the uniqueness of her beauty. But if I am like 
 a peasant . . . Oh ! I wonder if Besser ever saw 
 her. She has even physical advantages. I am 
 the attenuated type. She has fresh, peasant 
 blood mingling with ours. A problem : Suppose 
 two girls, twins, for instance, were almost abso- 
 lutely alike, just as the Corsican brothers were, 
 and a man was attracted by one of them ... I 
 shall remove her ! " 
 
 In those days she seldom appeared beyond the 
 grounds of Rimmon House. But she drove with 
 her mother out of the woods, and used to tell the 
 coachman not to drive back by Mulvey. She 
 had also ceased going to church where she was 
 stared at. They used to drive along the road 
 which circled the Bessers' house. The house was 
 closed because the heir was away.
 
 SOUNDS AN ALARUM CLOCK 39 
 
 " Where is he ? " she wondered. 
 
 Lady Rimmon began to wish after all that 
 Edgar would come home, so that she might see 
 him and present him as a candidate to Euxine. 
 It was with a shudder that she drove past The 
 Gates, a large asylum, which was considered the 
 one blot on Mulvey. It was only two miles 
 from Besser's house, and was partly screened by 
 trees. Objections had been raised by all the 
 proprietors except Sir Saul, who was not per- 
 turbed by such things. 
 
 " I'd rather have a graveyard ! " said Lady 
 Rimmon, shuddering in her carriage beside Violet, 
 and they both heard the barking of the four great 
 dogs. " Why do we always come this way? 
 Just look at them in the windows shaking their 
 fists!" 
 
 Violet thought differently, and had even been 
 at The Gates many a time out of curiosity, but 
 had never told her mother. She would have 
 liked to nurse those sick minds. Dr. Bede will- 
 ingly allowed her to come. 
 
 " What mostly helps to fill a place like this, 
 doctor? " 
 
 " Ah, what interest have you in that ? "
 
 4O THE DESTROYER 
 
 " I'm not a baby, and I don't shudder like 
 mamma.' 
 
 " I'm glad, then," he said. " Your sex is gen- 
 erally cowardly in face of scientific truths. Do 
 you really wish to know ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Violet, " I'm a born nurse, and 
 often wish somebody would turn ill for me to 
 nurse." 
 
 " Well, then," replied placid Dr. Bede, " it's the 
 war-god who most fills our house here." 
 
 " The war-god ? " 
 
 " Yes. There are so many of them ! But I 
 mean Love. Love is a war-god, not easy-going 
 at all, as weak novelists make out, but terrible, 
 he. Hundreds here are all shot through by his 
 arrows." 
 
 " Love is a Destroyer then ? " 
 
 " Yes, he may become a Destroyer in two 
 ways. I mean if you obey him to excess, and 
 also if you disobey h\n\ altogether. If you disobey 
 him he will avenge himself, perhaps." 
 
 " Priests disobey him," said Violet timidly. 
 
 " My dear, the world is extremely blind ! 
 There is a sort of marriage of which it knows 
 nothing, clandestine but not as it understands
 
 SOUNDS AN ALARUM CLOCK 41 
 
 that word I will call it dream-marriage. There 
 is a secret destruction when two have seen each 
 other but cannot come near, and only kiss hands 
 in their dreams." 
 
 Violet shuddered. She had known the power 
 of that dream-gesture. 
 
 " Ah ! the world ! the respectable world 
 knows nothing of the physiology of that sorrow," 
 added the doctor. 
 
 " Doctor," said Violet, who had turned pale, 
 " I've often thought that our house would do 
 admirably for a place like this. It's so somber 
 almost the color of dead seaweed. It's been 
 sitting in the earth's decay for hundreds of years, 
 and it is just fit for an old house of dotage." 
 
 " Oh, no ! surely not," said Dr. Bede, lifting 
 up his hands deprecatingly, " as long as you're 
 there, Miss Violet." 
 
 Violet went home and filled her book with 
 grave thoughts. " I'll fill it with smiles by and 
 by," she said, " when my lover comes." Meantime 
 she wrote : " Beauty has come, like Christ, to 
 send not peace but a sword. I'm not a wise old 
 maid at all, nor a blue-stocking." She measured 
 her foot against the leg of one of Sir Saul's
 
 42 THE DESTROYER 
 
 smallest terriers, and found, with a laugh, that it 
 was the same length. Yet, when she heard her 
 beauty praised, the pleasure seemed to die out of 
 her eyes and from her lips, and she became afraid. 
 
 At first the truth of the disgrace of the old 
 House of Rimmon had offered itself to her 
 secretly, evasively, disappearing and then coming 
 to her again, until at last it came and shook her. 
 She always remembered an August night which 
 saw her weep till the morning. She was stand- 
 ing at the edge of the lake which was considered 
 the chief ornament of her father's grounds. The 
 evening was " full of linnets' wings," and the 
 trees were shining. She saw her father come out 
 of the wood with his gun. As usual, he had been 
 shooting, but he had only two brace of grouse 
 slung round his neck with their heads dangling in 
 front. 
 
 " Poor little things ! " said Violet. 
 
 Sir Saul, who was fifty-four, looked well in his 
 sporting suit. He hardly ever wore anything 
 else. He was the leading sportsman of the dis- 
 trict. He had no great intelligence, but he man- 
 aged his lands well. Violet feared him. She 
 knew that he was a more powerful nature than
 
 SOUNDS AN ALARUM CLOCK 43 
 
 her uncle. There was a strong resemblance 
 between father and child. For instance, the 
 unmistakable Rimmon nose. She watched him 
 come through, and a strange feeling possessed 
 her for the first time. She would have liked to 
 run away. Why, she could not have told. But 
 she repressed herself, waited, and said " Good- 
 evening, father ! " and asked why he had had 
 such poor luck. 
 
 " What axe you doing here ? " he said, and passed 
 on with an attempted smile. 
 
 She watched him retreating, but turned her 
 head at the sound of a voice in the woods. It 
 was Miriam singing : 
 
 And the poppies are red, 
 
 And the cornflowers blue ; 
 Ah ! bright is our bed 
 
 When the moon is new. 
 
 Violet waited, but the voice stopped. She heard, 
 however, the crackle of dead twigs, as if some one 
 was extricating herself from the brushwood where 
 the cranberries grow. 
 
 " Miriam ! Miriam ! " she called. She felt an 
 overmastering impulse to speak, but especially to 
 look at Miriam.
 
 44 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " Miriam ! " 
 
 " Yes, I'm coming." 
 
 The wood sloped down to the lake, and Miriam 
 was mounting to the ridge. Presently she ap- 
 peared extricating herself from a thorn-bush. She 
 was as tall as Violet, and rounder. Only ten 
 minutes had gone since Sir Saul had passed. 
 
 " What is it, Miss Violet?" said Miriam, smil- 
 ing shyly, with lips made redder by the red 
 berries. 
 
 " Come down," said Violet, turning pale. 
 
 " Are you ill, miss ? " 
 
 "Yes . . . oh!" 
 
 The recognition came on her too suddenly, and 
 made her almost faint. 
 
 " Shall I run?" exclaimed Miriam, astonished. 
 " Oh, Miss Violet, dear, let me help you ! " and 
 she came and held her gently. 
 
 " No, no," said Violet, " leave me ! " 
 
 She turned her back on Miriam, and then went 
 forward homewards, in spasmodic leaps, while 
 Miriam stood amazed.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 ATTENDS THE UNBURYING OF AN OLD SIN 
 
 IT came then, at last, to be Prince Euxine's 
 turn to discover why the old House of Rimmon 
 was tottering uneasily. And, of course, he was 
 likely to increase those oscillations of its fortunes. 
 For whereas Violet, out of pride and perhaps 
 half out of self-interest remained silent, and 
 added only a little more slumbering fire to that 
 hot fuel of suspicion, Prince Euxine threatened 
 to bring things almost to the point of conflagration. 
 
 " Not," he said, " that I am a sort of moral in- 
 cendiary. See how long I have let things sim- 
 mer. I don't approve of the people who will- 
 ingly set fire to another man's life. A clumsy 
 preacher does so. Perhaps society would go col- 
 lectively mad if some of us didn't sin. And 
 really it is a sort of moral arson, that doctrine of 
 hell. You see," he reasoned, " I have a regard 
 
 45
 
 46 THE DESTROYER 
 
 for my sister, but then my brother-in-law is indis- 
 pensable to us both ! " 
 
 For instance, he had had often pecuniary assist- 
 ance from Sir Saul. Euxine saw, therefore, that 
 what he should do was to make himself indispen- 
 sable to his brother-in-law. He had long suspected 
 delinquency. His ear had been open to the back- 
 biters, but he had never looked very closely at 
 Miriam. Like a careful man of the world he let 
 tragedy lie quietly till it began to turn in its own 
 lair. It was when he saw the presentiments at 
 work in his sister that he thought it necessary to 
 take a step or two for the common good. 
 
 "Saul, my dear brother," he said after that 
 strange conversation he had had with his sister, 
 " Violet is very handsome. She is very \\k& you, 
 Saul ! There is no single girl like her that I 
 know. I have noticed that no really beautiful 
 woman unless perhaps in the case of sisters 
 was ever like any other. We are disappointed if 
 we discover no special characteristic which makes 
 a woman's beauty entirely her own. Beauty con- 
 sists in a subtle emphasis on one or two features, 
 eh, Saul ? Well, then, you should be proud of 
 Violet."
 
 ATTENDS THE UNBURYING OF AN OLD SIN 47 
 
 " I am proud of her, damn it all ! '' said Sir Saul. 
 
 "Yes, but they say there is a girl here that re- 
 sembles her. It must be in some far-off sort of 
 way. Do tell me, is it possible ? " 
 
 Sir Saul's eye had become too steady by long 
 gun practise to wince at a question like this, but 
 there was a slight tremulousness about the mus- 
 cles of his face. 
 
 "What?" he said, contracting his expression 
 as if he hadn't understood. 
 
 "Oh!" said Euxine, laughing outright, "they 
 say little Miriam is like Violet. I haven't seen 
 the child for a long time. But it's too ridiculous ! 
 I have heard of subtle influences between people, 
 and that you actually become like the people you 
 live with." 
 
 " In that case," said Sir Saul, " you should be 
 getting very like me ! " 
 
 Euxine received the thrust good-naturedly, be- 
 cause he felt sure of his man. 
 
 " I'm going out," said Sir Saul quickly. " Will 
 you come?" 
 
 " Not just at present, Saul," said Euxine, put- 
 ting on his eyeglass and looking at the retreating 
 form of his brother-in-law.
 
 48 THE DESTROYER 
 
 He observed that after such encounters, and 
 especially after this particular conversation, Sir 
 Saul began to whistle and hum. 
 
 " I do not think that whistle is gay," said Euxine 
 privately. " Men have a habit of humming in a 
 peculiar manner when discomfort is at hand. It 
 is like the low whistle of the coming storm." 
 
 At any rate, Sir Saul went out of doors hum- 
 ming a low " damn ! damn ! " while Euxine 
 mounted old Moll, told her to be never so good, 
 and went ambling towards the home farm, hum- 
 ming a little " damn! damn ! " of his own. 
 
 The home farm was a very prosperous-looking 
 and solid building. It formed a square which 
 was open at one end. The open side was closed 
 by long folding gates which Miriam used to guard 
 with great joy when the carters came and went 
 with the produce of the fields. She admitted the 
 cows one by one, giving a pat to her favorites and 
 a thump to her enemies. In rainy weather the 
 courtyard was a bespattered place, owing to the 
 extreme softness of the earth, which is character- 
 istic of all Mulvey. But Mother Dagon, with the 
 permission of Sir Saul, had got a little garden cut 
 out in the middle, surrounded by a wicker railing
 
 ATTENDS THE UNBURYING OF AN OLD SIN 49 
 
 and planted with shrubs, so that in dreary weather 
 the courtyard had one spot of brightness. The 
 long byre formed one side of the square, with the 
 milk-house at the end, while the stables, cart- 
 houses, and plow-houses formed the side oppo- 
 site. The Dagons occupied the remaining side, 
 and the workers lived above. There was an en- 
 trance leading to the pasture land which ran down 
 about the length of five acres towards the woods. 
 Sir Saul was proud of his estate. Whatever mis- 
 take he had made in its management had been 
 due to the advice of his brother-in-law. 
 
 " Too dense," said Euxine, " cut down more 
 wood." 
 
 But for every tree that was felled two were 
 planted. 
 
 " He must have his wood to hide in," thought 
 Euxine, as he came out of it along the road which 
 led in a straight line to the door of the home 
 farm. As he approached he saw Mother Dagon 
 sitting with Miriam on the bench. Mother Dagon 
 rose and went in, telling Miriam to follow. But 
 Miriam remained, and rose to curtsey to the 
 Prince. The home farm used to be thrown into 
 a great flutter when he made his inspection. He
 
 50 THE DESTROYER 
 
 was considered to be more formidable than Sir 
 Saul. When it was thought that he might be 
 coming, there was a combined effort among the 
 workmen and workwomen. And those who be- 
 lieved it was more important to please the Prince 
 than Sir Saul, ran to hold the bridle. 
 
 " Eh, little wench," said Euxine, as Miriam rose 
 to salute him, " and how are you ? " 
 
 " Very well, I thank you, Prince," replied 
 Miriam, who was growing slender at that time. 
 
 She looked the Prince very full in the face, 
 and smiled not too boldly. He did not dis- 
 mount, but took out his eyeglass to examine 
 Miriam. 
 
 " Long long time, little minxsie, since I've 
 seen you. Where have you been? " 
 
 " With my auntie in the village," she said. 
 
 " Ha ! " said the Prince, and looked at her up 
 and down. 
 
 He dismounted laboriously, uttering an ejacula- 
 tion when he met the ground too sharply with his 
 gouty foot. He told Cubitt, who was standing 
 by the bridle, to take the beast to the stable. 
 Then he sat down on the bench, and invited 
 Miriam to chat. Miriam sat at the end, and
 
 ATTENDS THE UNBURYING OF AN OLD SIN 51 
 
 smiled acquiescently at whatever the Prince was 
 pleased to say. 
 
 " Why," he said, " you don't look as if you 
 work on Sir Saul's fields. Your cheeks are not 
 red and brown like a little peasant's. Come 
 nearer." 
 
 " No," said she, coming nearer, " Sir Saul says 
 I'm not to. I'm not strong enough." 
 
 " Ha ! " exclaimed Euxine, " let me feel your 
 pulse to see if you haven't a strong little peasant's 
 heart." 
 
 He drew Miriam towards him. 
 
 " One two, one two, ah, it's a strong little 
 machine ! " 
 
 He then examined her hand, looking at the 
 form and fineness of it. 
 
 " Pointed fingers," he noted ; " nice little body 
 woven of two very different webs ! " 
 
 Miriam wondered when he said, " Now, put 
 out your little foot." She advanced it below her 
 skirt, whereupon Euxine said, half audibly, " Ah, 
 it's not a little foot," and concluded that there 
 the peasant element predominated. 
 
 " Clumsy little peasant foot," he said, tapping 
 it with his riding-whip, while Miriam pulled it in.
 
 52 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " But I've never really seen your pretty face, 
 Miriam," he said. " Let me see your face." 
 
 She turned blushing, while he crumpled his 
 cheek up towards his eyeglass, to keep it steady, 
 and peered through. 
 
 " Sir Saul says you're not to work," he said 
 absently while he looked at her. 
 
 " No, your worship," says she. 
 
 " I observe," he pondered silently, " the same 
 quick inquiry which irritates one in Violet and 
 Saul ! How curious, just where it can be so 
 easily seen the truth lies open here on her face. 
 If this creature had been given an aristocratic 
 spine, or some internal organ aristocratically made, 
 which no one would have noticed ; if her teeth 
 even, and those lower physiological details had 
 been given the secret to keep, how lucky for Sir 
 Saul ! But here the plain tale is written for the 
 sun to shine on." 
 
 Miriam had never undergone so close an in- 
 spection. 
 
 " A delicate little hussy of a peasant ! " ex- 
 claimed Euxine, tapping her shoulder. " Tell 
 your mother I wish to see her." 
 
 Miriam went in, but Mother Dagon had been
 
 ATTENDS THE UNBURYING OF AN OLD SIN 53 
 
 preparing herself, for she had heard everything 
 from the window above. Miriam found her 
 wringing her hands. The blood had left her 
 cheeks. 
 
 " What's wrong ? " asked Miriam. " Come down 
 to the Prince." 
 
 " Oh," said her mother, " tell 'm I'll be direct- 
 ly." " Here'll be the close o't ! " said Mother 
 Dagon to herself. 
 
 The Prince sat waiting, and nodding his head 
 in the accustomed manner. 
 
 " We'll arrange it nicely," he said. " The his- 
 torical family row will take place according to my 
 own recipe." 
 
 He was disturbed in these reflections by Mother 
 Dagon, who came bustling bravely out, lifting the 
 two borders of her apron as she curtsied. 
 
 " God bless your highness! " 
 
 " God bless you, my good woman ! We all 
 need it." 
 
 " Keep back, Mir," said Mother Dagon, for 
 Miriam was showing herself at the door again. 
 
 " No, no," said the Prince ; " come forward, 
 Miriam," and he looked at Mother Dagon, whose 
 eyes sought the ground.
 
 54 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " She's a fine girl, Mother Dagon." 
 
 " Yes, Prince," says she. 
 
 " She's not working in the fields or in the 
 dairy ? " 
 
 " No, Prince," said Mother Dagon gently. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 Mother Dagon gave Sir Saul's pleasure as the 
 reason. 
 
 "My good woman," thought Euxine, "that 
 blush of yours is a very clumsy little drop scene ! 
 It lights up, not covers, the little Volkspiel 
 within ! " 
 
 " Sir Saul is good, isn't he ? " he said, looking 
 her up and down the way he had surveyed Miriam. 
 
 "Yes, Prince," they both said simultaneously. 
 
 " Miriam doesn't take after you" said the 
 Prince. 
 
 Mother Dagon's heart was beating as it had 
 never beat before. Prince Euxine saw the corners 
 of her mouth beginning to fall. " Ah, this is the 
 physiological moment ! " he thought. 
 
 But he saved things by calling out, " Holloa, 
 Cubitt." 
 
 Cubitt came running, and the Prince ordered 
 his horse.
 
 ATTENDS THE UNBURYING OF AN OLD SIN 55 
 
 " She doesn't take after Isaac either ? " he 
 asked Mother Dagon again. 
 
 " Isaac's at the turnips, Prince," says Mother 
 Dagon. 
 
 The Prince contracted his eyes in the Russian 
 fashion, and looked at her through his eyelashes. 
 He let her evasion pass, however, and began to 
 chaff her on Isaac's age. 
 
 " The old man's all right and hearty," said 
 Mother Dagon, laughing now. 
 
 " No, no," said the Prince, " spring marrying 
 autumn will never do. You must take care of 
 this girl. It's to be Cubitt, isn't it ? " 
 
 " Oh aye," said Mother Dagon, rallying, as 
 Cubitt came along leading Moll. 
 
 " He's a strapping boy," said the Prince, turn- 
 ing to Miriam. 
 
 Miriam pouted as if she didn't believe it. Cubitt 
 gave her a lover's wink as he helped the Prince to 
 climb Moll. 
 
 " Good day," said the Prince to them all frig- 
 idly, and rode away. 
 
 Cubitt playfully made a run at Miriam, but she 
 dodged him. 
 
 " Eh, Mir ! Mir ! " he exclaimed, doubling his
 
 56 THE DESTROYER 
 
 knuckles on his hips as he looked at her running 
 off. 
 
 Things were becoming incomprehensible on the 
 Rimmon estate, thought Cubitt. He took up his 
 spade and went down in silence to the turnip 
 field. But he couldn't work, and Isaac quarreled 
 him for uneven plowing. Yet Cubitt had taken 
 prizes at Mulvey agricultural sports, and no one 
 could match him in breaking up hilly ground. 
 On the most recalcitrant soil he always left per- 
 fect curves. But this day his head was unsteady, 
 and the plow rocked before him, leaving a 
 wriggling furrow behind. He was largely built, 
 with features roughened by exposure to the wind 
 and sun. Mostly taciturn on the field and at the 
 fireside, he could yet laugh heartily with Miriam, 
 and his courtship had been full of exquisite rough 
 chivalry. When he said " Mir ! Mir ! " with his 
 deep voice, and looked at her out of eyes which 
 had a good deal of submerged peasant fire and 
 melancholy, he had been irresistible. But he had 
 an uneasy suspicion that Miriam was growing too 
 fine, and every day he seemed to see less of her. 
 
 "No, I can't go on ! " he exclaimed, and made 
 the horses stop at the top of a furrow.
 
 ATTENDS THE UNBURYING OF AN OLD SIN 57 
 
 The plowshare stuck in the thick soil, and one 
 of the horses neighed. 
 
 " Where are ye goin' ? " called Isaac, leaning 
 on his hoe, as he saw Cubitt turning the horses 
 on the grass. 
 
 " To Mir! " said Cubitt, and trudged back to 
 the home farm. 
 
 He found her on the bench where the Prince 
 had found her, and she was now sewing a kerchief 
 in the sun. 
 
 " Look here, Mir," he faltered, feeling his 
 throat big as he stood before her, " have I done 
 anything to vex ye?" 
 
 " No," says she, keeping her eyes on her needle- 
 work. 
 
 " I thought I had," said Cubitt, as he sat beside 
 her. " But ye've done something to vex me, Mir." 
 
 " Don't be stupid," said Miriam. 
 
 " Well, Mir, ye don't like me as well as before. 
 Are we not going to wed, Mir? " 
 
 " Ye'll have to be higher up," said Miriam, 
 avoiding his glance, 
 
 " Oh, I'm poor! " said Cubitt bitterly. 
 
 " It's not that," protested Miriam, " but there's 
 enough time."
 
 58 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " Well, I'm willin' to wait," said Cubitt, " but 
 lovers shouldn't be a killing of time. And ye 
 know I'm true. I'd run to the death for ye, 
 Mir." 
 
 " Oh, it's cruel," said Miriam, with her eyes 
 filling as his tone became gentler, " to talk like 
 that." 
 
 " Eh, dearie ! " said Cubitt as he embraced her. 
 " Well, we're friends and lovers again." 
 
 And for the moment it was true. 
 
 Meantime, Moll ambled back with Prince Eux- 
 ine, who was not very indignant. " We won't 
 allow all the world," he said, "to be present at 
 the unburying of this old sin." He rather felt 
 encouraged in his own startling project, which 
 was to marry Violet. In Germany uncles may 
 marry their nieces. He and Violet could retire 
 to Germany. Violet would doubtless be provided 
 with an excellent dowry. Sir Saul, of all people, 
 would agree, and likely Mathilde, when she heard 
 that this was the " splendid proposal." It might 
 be a case of spring marrying autumn, but the 
 thing was different surely when " autumn " was a 
 well-preserved old aristocrat. 
 
 He had no sooner made these reflections when
 
 ATTENDS THE UNBURYING OF AN OLD SIN 59 
 
 he saw Sir Saul through the trees, crouching as 
 if in the act of taking an aim. 
 " Good God, stop ! " he cried. 
 
 Sir Saul rose and looked round, and Euxine 
 
 s 
 
 trotted up the carriage road which cut through 
 the woods. 
 
 " Eh ! " exclaimed Euxine out of breath, " you 
 might have had us both, Moll and me." 
 
 " Indeed I might," said Sir Saul. " Doing 
 tiaga, in fact." 
 
 He then playfully pricked Moll, and teased her 
 tail until she began to kick and stamp, making 
 Euxine roll in the saddle. 
 
 " Stop it, Saul," said he. " I wish to dismount." 
 
 " Dismount then." 
 
 Euxine's consciousness of his physical coward- 
 ice made him vindictive at that moment. He 
 dismounted painfully, and let Moll snuff among 
 the brushwood. Perhaps it was now Sir Saul's 
 turn to play the coward. The two men looked 
 at each other as if business was in the air. Con- 
 trary to his usual habit, and perhaps as a result of 
 his fright, Euxine began abruptly. 
 
 " By the way, I don't think Mathilde is well," 
 he began.
 
 60 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " What's wrong with her ? " 
 
 " She's agitated about something, about you, I 
 think." 
 
 Sir Saul leant against a tree, poising his gun 
 with his right hand. 
 
 " I don't know what you mean," he said. 
 
 " Yes, yes, Saul, you do. The farce has gone on 
 too long, and I must take this opportunity 
 
 " What do you mean ? " asked Sir Saul fiercely. 
 
 " What do ugly rumors mean ? " 
 
 " What do you mean, sir ? " asked Sir Saul 
 again. 
 
 " I mean, then," replied Euxine, as he drew 
 himself up, " that the girl Miriam Dagon 
 
 Euxine stopped, because he trembled more than 
 Sir Saul. He had chosen an awkward moment. 
 
 "Do you see that ?" demanded Sir Saul, hold- 
 ing up his gun. 
 
 " Well ! " said Euxine, attempting to smile, 
 " are you going to use it on me ? " 
 
 "I'll use it on ' 
 
 " No, no, Saul ! " said Euxine, laying his hand 
 on his brother-in-law's shoulder. " I'm surprised ! 
 We're both men of the world, you know, and can 
 arrange these things."
 
 ATTENDS THE UNBURYING OE AN OLD SIN 6l 
 
 Sir Saul said he knew nothing about these ref- 
 erences. But the Prince began to present the 
 thing in a very persuasive way. 
 
 " Look you, Saul ! " he said, " we are both old, 
 and Mathilde is old. There is no use making a. 
 disturbance now. These sins of youth ! why, 
 they're just the frolics of young blood ! As if / 
 don't know it all ! " 
 
 " What the devil are you going on about then ? " 
 asked Sir Saul. " I suppose you had your own 
 frolics." 
 
 *' Ah, but Mathilde ! " rejoined the Prince, 
 "and the countryside. The thing is getting awk- 
 ward now. I must disabuse her mind, and how, 
 how to do it! It is getting hot for you, Saul. 
 I've been silent for years, and have spoken only 
 because I see what is coming." 
 
 Sir Saul shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " What do you want ? " he asked impatiently. 
 
 Euxine then unfolded his scheme. He said 
 the way was clear. He pointed to the increasing 
 misery of Violet. Had Sir Saul watched Violet ? 
 It was eating her life away. Now, would it not 
 be better that he and Violet, in true German 
 fashion, should wed and retire to Hildesheim ?
 
 62 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " Dog ! " exclaimed Sir Saul, at last roused to 
 his duties. " Say what you will, defame me as you 
 please, but don't suppose I'll give my daughter 
 up to your cursed habits ! " 
 
 Prince Euxine was amazed, since he had felt so 
 sure of his man. 
 
 " Your morals are appearing somewhat late, 
 sir," he said with an icy smile. 
 
 " Maybe ! " said Sir Saul, " yes, maybe, but I'll 
 turn the two of you out. She'll get her divorce, 
 get it, get it, and you'll go with her ! " 
 
 Euxine was surprised indeed. But he still felt 
 sure of his man. So he scrambled on Moll's 
 back, and in the midst of his exertion intimated 
 that he would hastily acquaint his sister with 
 everything. 
 
 " Go, go ! " cried Sir Saul, laughing a loud 
 sportsman's laugh, " and get another man's horse, 
 and take lessons in climbing him." 
 
 The Prince thought to dismount again, but was 
 too agitated, and whipped the horse to go on. 
 Sir Saul fired his gun in the air behind Moll's 
 back, and the horse, taking fright, plunged for- 
 ward down the road carrying Euxine at a terrific 
 gallop.
 
 ATTENDS THE UNBURYING OF AN OLD SIN 63 
 
 " Ride like a piston ! " cried Sir Saul ; " it's the 
 only way. What ho ! " 
 
 He saw Euxine struggling in the air, reeling to 
 the left with his right stirrup lost. In a moment 
 he was flung from the saddle and fell heavily, 
 being dragged along till his foot extricated itself 
 from the left stirrup. Sir Saul ran up. 
 
 "Are you hurt ?" 
 
 But Euxine did not reply. He was lying in a 
 heap against a tree, with his face on the ground. 
 His head had struck the tree, and he was insen- 
 sible. Sir Saul looked for the horse, but only 
 heard her hoofs clattering through the woods. 
 He laid down his gun, deadly pale, and ran home 
 to bring the carriage.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 ATTENDS THE BURYING OF AN OLD SINNER. 
 
 THE field-workers came running from all points 
 of Sir Saul's estate, some of them carrying, absent- 
 mindedly, hoes and shovels on their shoulders, 
 and collected in a group behind at the offices to 
 hear the latest news of the Prince's condition. 
 Old Isaac was there, and Cubitt and Miriam, and 
 all the carters and reapers, and Sir Saul's shep- 
 herd, for Sir Saul had a thousand sheep. Dr. 
 Bede was seen driving rapidly up the great linden 
 avenue, which the Prince used to call " Unter 
 den Linden." 
 
 " There's Bede ! " said the group, and shud- 
 dered. 
 
 " I must say," remarked Isaac, who, in spite of 
 his age and bent shoulders, was the tallest of 
 them all, " the Prince didn't know a horse, and I 
 expected this. When I gave 'im Moll four hours 
 ago I thought him nervous and excited like." 
 
 "Where's Moll? " asked one. 
 64
 
 ATTENDS THE BURYING OF AN OLD SINNER 65 
 
 "The old blasted witch," said Isaac, " I wonder 
 what put her in tantrums to-day. She came 
 scampering down to the turnips, with the stirrups 
 clappering on her back, and the reins at her feet, 
 purring, and I knew somethin' was wrong, I could 
 hardly lay hold o' 'er. She must have fallen, for 
 she's scratched." 
 
 " Ugh ! " exclaimed Cubitt, putting his hands 
 in his pockets and looking at Miriam. 
 
 "The Prince is as fine a gentleman as there is," 
 said Isaac. 
 
 " He is," said the shepherds in support. 
 
 " They say he hasn't money," continued Isaac, 
 rubbing his thumb on his forefinger, which he 
 always did when he wished to indicate great 
 wealth, " but he did princely by me with what he 
 had." 
 
 " He spoke to me," said Miriam, " half an hour 
 ago, so kindly like." 
 
 " And he used to pat me" said a milk girl, wish- 
 ing to announce her share of the honors that were 
 perhaps gone forever. 
 
 While Euxine was being thus eulogized, his 
 own servant came out with a dish in which linen 
 bandages were lying. The group moved after him
 
 66 THE DESTROYER 
 
 to the pump, where he let the water run till it 
 became as cold as possible. Cubitt managed the 
 handle for him, and kept pumping, pumping, 
 while every one asked how the Prince was, and 
 what the doctor had said. 
 
 " Head badly cut," said the man, shaking his 
 own head. " Bede says it's concussion. Lyin' 
 still as a stone, and hardly breathing." 
 
 One of the servants in the group, who was a 
 Catholic, crossed herself, and then the man ran 
 in with the soaked bandages. 
 
 " You should see the oozing blood," he said 
 when he came out again with a bowl full of dis- 
 colored water. " There's a bit o' his brain in the 
 bowl, they say." 
 
 They all surrounded the bowl and saw little 
 greasy globules in it. 
 
 " It's like a bit suet," said one, and lifted up 
 her hands. 
 
 "Just look!" exclaimed Isaac, puzzled, "it's 
 like a bit sheep's sweetbread ! " 
 
 " Can't speak, perhaps, because he's lost that 
 bit ! " said Euxine's man, " but sometimes' his 
 hand goes up to his brow as if feeling for some- 
 thing lost ! "
 
 ATTENDS THE BURYING OF AN OLD SINNER 6/ 
 
 " What does Bede say ? " they asked. 
 
 The man shook his head, and ran in again. 
 
 " It'll be a funeral," said Isaac, " and me saying 
 ' How d'ye do, Prince ? ' this afternoon, only 
 some hours back ! " 
 
 Dr. Bede had hurriedly told Sir Saul that his 
 brother-in-law would be dead shortly. It was 
 not likely that he would return to consciousness. 
 He must have fallen with terrific violence against 
 the tree, because the skull was badly fractured. 
 The rumor spread, for Euxine's man came out 
 with each item of news till the group at the back 
 door swayed with horror. 
 
 " And that dog's barkin' ! " said one of the 
 women. 
 
 " It's Bede's dog from The Gates ! " another 
 replied. 
 
 The huge dog came snuffing round the group 
 for its master. But the doctor was still busy in- 
 side. 
 
 " How did it happen?" he asked Sir Saul, in 
 the anteroom. 
 
 " She must have taken fright with the gun. I 
 shot a sparrow hawk before Euxine was out of 
 sight, and then she tore off," Sir Saul whispered.
 
 68 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " I never knew she could go so fast ; and he could 
 never ride." 
 
 Lady Rimmon was too broken down to follow 
 intelligently the doctor's instructions, and she let 
 Violet attend the bed. 
 
 " Euxy ! " cried Lady Rimmon in her grief, 
 " oh, speak ! " 
 
 " Hush, mother," said Violet, as she removed 
 and laid again the cloths on the shattered brow. 
 
 " Oh, I knew something would happen, and I'm 
 alone now ! Where's your father ? " 
 
 Dr. Bede returned in an hour. 
 
 " Has he been groaning?" 
 
 " Yes," said Violet. 
 
 " Much?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Not a word will he say. O doctor, save him, 
 save Euxy," said Lady Rimmon, with her face in 
 her hands. 
 
 " He may return to a sort of consciousness," 
 said the doctor to Sir Saul as he drove away again. 
 
 Another hour passed and the Prince groaned 
 " Mathilde," and there was hope that he might 
 rally. Lady Rimmon refused to leave him, and 
 .sat up all night while Violet and Sir Saul took
 
 ATTENDS THE BURYING OF AN OLD SINNER 69 
 
 some sleep. It was a perfectly dark night and 
 the trees were whispering all round the house. 
 
 Lady Rimmon thought she saw a change. 
 
 " Yes, Euxy, I am here," said Lady Rimmon, 
 shuddering. " Oh, I am afraid ! " 
 
 " O oh hands of pain heavy on my brow ! " 
 
 She eased the cloths, while her tears were falling 
 on them, and she could hardly see what she did. 
 
 " Ma thilde ! " 
 
 "Yes, Euxy, I am here beside you." 
 
 " Wh ere? He is innocent, and where am 
 I ? Innocent." 
 
 He made a movement to sit up and was about 
 to tear the cloths off his head. 
 
 She quieted him for a moment. He looked 
 up at her as she bent over him, and had a 
 moment's lucid interval. He seemed to be feel- 
 ing for his eyeglass while she ran to call the others. 
 
 " I'll be forgiven that mensonge for her sake! " 
 muttered Euxine, lying back. 
 
 " Oh, I am widowed ! " exclaimed Lady Rim- 
 mon, returning too late with Violet and Sir Saul. 
 " Widowed ! " as if Euxine had been to her all 
 that Sir Saul should have been. 
 
 They buried him according to the Russian rite
 
 70 THE DESTROYER 
 
 in the Episcopal cemetery. The coffin, which 
 was made of oak from one of Sir Saul's trees, was 
 carried by old Isaac, Cubitt, Euxine's man-servant, 
 and five other workmen on the estate. Sir Saul, 
 Lady Rimmon, and Violet followed in the car- 
 riage, with the horses reined in to a funeral pace. 
 They said nothing to each other, and Sir Saul 
 shuffled his knees impatiently from side to side. 
 Lady Rimmon was sobbing under her deep veil, 
 while Violet sat impassive beside her. The 
 blinds were drawn so that it was all dark within. 
 They heard slow tramp of sixteen feet ahead. It 
 was almost impossible to believe the reality. Four 
 days ago the Prince had been walking above the 
 ground, and now he was on his way to his sealed 
 sleep beneath it. And if any one ever laughed 
 over his foibles or his parsimony, he made up for 
 it now by misplaced eulogy. Even Violet had 
 struck " old dolt " out of her journal the night 
 he died. The silence was so oppressive that she 
 ventured to break it. 
 
 " Poor uncle never rode well," she said. 
 
 " No," said Sir Saul. 
 
 " Oh, I told him so often," said Lady Rimmon. 
 
 " Were you far off, father?"
 
 ATTENDS THE BURYING OF AN OLD SINNER Jl 
 
 " No ; I think it must have been the gun." 
 
 " The gun ! " exclaimed Lady Rimmon, lifting 
 her veil. She drew up one of the carriage blinds, 
 and looked at Sir Saul with red swollen eyes. 
 
 " Yes, the report perhaps frightened Moll." 
 
 "O Saul!" 
 
 " He mismanaged her. She was used to firing, 
 and it shouldn't have set her off." 
 
 " O oh! " sobbed Lady Rimmon, in sobs that 
 appeared to be echoes of each other. 
 
 " I have made a statement," said Sir Saul ; " I 
 thought it was right to do it. Of course it is 
 only my conjecture." 
 
 " Here ! " said Violet, astonished at her father's 
 statement. 
 
 The carriage stopped. Lady Rimmon was un- 
 able to leave it, and sat covering her face while 
 they buried the Prince. 
 
 " Euxy ! " she sobbed, as she waited for them 
 in a sort of weeping dream. " Euxy ! " 
 
 The servants stood in a crowd round the open 
 grave while the coffin was being lowered. Then 
 Cubitt and Isaac began to fill the grave up, while 
 everybody's eyes followed the motion of the 
 shovels. Sir Saul stood at the head with his hat
 
 72 THE DESTROYER 
 
 off, and Violet at the foot with her head bent 
 towards the ground. 
 
 Old Isaac flung the last spadeful and beat the 
 brown earth all over. 
 
 " Aye, aye," said he, as he let a tear slip ; " good- 
 by, Prince. Ye shook hands wi' me here where 
 prince and beggars don't shake hands, and ye'll 
 do it yonder where, they say, we'll all be kings ! " 
 
 He leant on his spade, and looked up at the sky 
 like an old priest of the soil. 
 
 " Mir!" he called. 
 
 Miriam, who was dressed in a black frock, and 
 was standing beside Mother Dagon, came forward 
 with a wreath of red poppies and blue corn-flowers 
 of her own twisting, and laid it at the foot, while 
 Violet turned hastily back to the carriage. 
 
 The weeks followed somberly at Rimmon 
 House. " How death," wrote Violet, " makes 
 all this activity grotesque ! Great master of deaf 
 mutes! " 
 
 Lady Rimmon abandoned herself to her grief, 
 and Sir Saul was now seldom out of doors. The 
 Prince's mishap caused no surprise, since every 
 one knew his want of skill in riding. Really, it 
 was only his sister who missed him. She visited
 
 ATTENDS THE BURYING OF AN OLD SINNER 73 
 
 his grave and chose his monument. She used to 
 take her needlework and sit in the cemetery 
 beside the stone while the stonecutter was carv- 
 ing the epitaph which she had composed. 
 
 To MY 
 BELOVED BROTHER 
 
 prince flvan jfeofcor Euiine 
 
 NOVGOROD (RUSSIA), AND VILLA GOTHA (HILDESHEIM) 
 Ueber alien Gipfeln ist Ruh. 
 
 " Do you know the meaning of that last line?" 
 she asked the stonecutter. 
 
 " No, ma'am." 
 
 " It means ' On every summit there is peace," 
 she said, and tore herself away weeping, after she 
 gave him his day's fee. 
 
 " Yes, ma'am," said the stonecutter, pocketing 
 the money.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THINKS THAT LOVE DISCOVERS BEAUTY WHERE 
 NONE WOULD SEE IT. 
 
 EUXINE'S name was seldom out of Lady Rim- 
 mon's lips, and Sir Saul began to feel the dead 
 man's ascendency again. He seemed still to be 
 filling the house, and Sir Saul almost expected to 
 meet him in a corridor, or to see him in an easy 
 chair. It was difficult to control himself when 
 his wife burst into tears almost at every meal 
 over Euxine's empty place. If Sir Saul ever 
 asked Violet where her mother had gone, the in- 
 variable reply was, that she had taken a book or 
 her needlework to the cemetery. Sometimes 
 Violet went for her and brought her back. Even 
 Sir Saul, however, became gentler after Euxine's 
 death, as if the dead man's hand was constraining 
 him to it. But he was secretly irritated when he 
 
 discovered that Euxine seemed as great a reality 
 74
 
 THINKS THAT LOVE DISCOVERS BEAUTY 75 
 
 as ever, and that he was almost more in evidence 
 when dead than when he was alive. 
 
 " He was so good," said Lady Rimmon. " His 
 last words before he went out for that ride were 
 about you, Violet. He was always thinking of 
 others. He said he had ' a splendid proposal.' 
 You never did him full justice, Saul." 
 
 Sir Saul smiled and repeated ironically : 
 " Splendid proposal ! " 
 
 He felt tempted to disabuse his wife's mind by 
 letting Euxine appear in an evil light, and so oust 
 the dead man from his place in the household. 
 Quite brutally, therefore, he destroyed his wife's 
 last illusion. 
 
 " Do you know what it was? " he asked, turn- 
 ing first to Lady Rimmon and then to Violet. 
 
 " No," said Lady Rimmon eagerly. " I had 
 confided Violet's future to him. Did he tell you ? 
 He was keeping it as a surprise for me" 
 
 " Yes," said Sir Saul. " It would have been a 
 surprise ! The splendid proposal was himself. 
 That was the result of ' winnowing, winnowing.'" 
 
 " Euxine never said that ! " exclaimed Lady 
 Rimmon. 
 
 " He did," said Sir Saul.
 
 76 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " I quite believe it," said Violet. 
 
 "Oh, never! It's iniquitous of you both to 
 say it ! " said Lady Rimmon, wiping her eyes. 
 
 " I told him I never would permit it, Violet," 
 said Sir Saul. " He said that the Prussian law 
 permitted it, and that his property at Hildesheim, 
 where he would have taken you, would have given 
 him the right, etc." 
 
 " Don't believe it, Violet. Oh, it's cruel and 
 shameful of you to speak like that, and he spoke 
 in the end so nobly of you ! " 
 
 " That doesn't change anything," said Sir Saul. 
 
 " No, I'm afraid it doesn't," replied Lady Rim- 
 mon, leaving the room to hide her bitter double 
 grief. 
 
 "You know," said Sir Saul to Violet, "you are 
 free to marry whom you like provided, of course, 
 he has position." 
 
 " I know," said Violet, detecting, with some- 
 thing like scorn, her father's conciliatory tone. 
 " If he has position ! A Rimmon would never 
 make a mesalliance ! I have got an invitation 
 from the Proudfoots, and I am going soon." 
 
 " The Proudfoots ? Does that mean any- 
 thing?"
 
 THINKS THAT LOVE DISCOVERS BEAUTY // 
 
 " No," said Violet. 
 " Is your mother going with you ? " 
 " I don't know. I hope not, but she was asked." 
 Those were all the sort of confidences that 
 Violet ever gave her father. The truth was she 
 was going to the Proudfoots because she could 
 no longer bear the affront of her position. She 
 pitied her mother and had affection for her, but 
 she wrote in her journal that her own life had be- 
 gun, and would have to be lived independently. 
 The days that passed seemed made up of an in- 
 terminable delaying which promised nothing. 
 The House of Rimmon had grown dark and de- 
 crepit. It was no place for a girl who felt within 
 her, she said, the stir of a hundred sympathies 
 with the outer world. The outer world could 
 never be anything like this ! When she heard the 
 revelation of Euxine's mean, ludicrous project, 
 she longed to escape from an atmosphere where 
 motives so shameful were at work. It was time 
 to see things and choose them for herself. Sir 
 Saul took care to let her know that he would have 
 saved her from that obloquy. She thanked him, 
 but that was all. He should have saved her from 
 other obloquy. In any case he could not be her
 
 78 THE DESTROYER 
 
 protector. That right was forfeited long ago. 
 The luxury of Rimmon House had no delight 
 because of its inner shame. And the vile toler- 
 ance of that accepted scandal made her soul grow 
 sick. There was a perpetual waiting for a decisive 
 moment which never came, and which she was 
 too proud to bring on. As for him, he was living 
 his bucolic life undisturbed. Euxine was done 
 with, and the past was a fait accompli. Seldom 
 did Violet permit her eyes to light on her father, 
 not because she was guilty, but he, and she was 
 too ashamed. " Strange," she wrote, " that the 
 iniquity of another makes me so nervous. And 
 mamma is slowly dying of it." She asked herself 
 if she should wait on for her mother's sake, and 
 continue to suffer with her, but she answered : 
 " No, I will make things only worse. Besides, 
 mamma may live with me if she likes, and we shall 
 have done with him." And then she went to her 
 glass to see where the red spot was burning on 
 her cheek. 
 
 Now Lady Rimmon also was asking herself if 
 she should continue at her post, and she an- 
 swered : " Yes," for her daughter's sake. At least 
 she would wait on till she saw Violet in safe hus-
 
 THINKS THAT LOVE DISCOVERS BEAUTY 79 
 
 band's hands. Otherwise, indeed, she felt eager 
 to flee from the house, and more than once she 
 had secretly packed and prepared to retire to 
 Hildesheim. She could not bring herself to go 
 through the shame of a public renunciation of her 
 husband. She would forgive him as best she 
 could, and flee silently away, and her only regret 
 would be to leave her brother's dust in foreign 
 soil. She had told Cubitt to forget what she had 
 once asked him to do. She had explained pathet- 
 ically that it was her nervousness which used to 
 make her afraid lest Sir Saul would have an acci- 
 dent in the woods. Luckily, Cubitt was dull and 
 honest, and would have remained taciturn even 
 without a bribe, which, indeed, he refused, won- 
 dering what it all meant, and considering it due to 
 her ladyship's hysteria over the Prince's loss. So 
 Lady Rimmon was covering it all up and suffering 
 alone, and not making even Violet a confidant 
 any more ; waiting only till Violet was safe ; then 
 she might go quietly away and spend her last 
 days in her own country. But she had said to 
 Euxine that she was living for Violet, and it was 
 still true. It was good for her she would not 
 bring herself to believe that Euxine had wished
 
 8O THE DESTROYER 
 
 to take advantage of that Prussian law, and shock 
 English opinion. That, she considered, to be a 
 wicked invention of the man who, on his own 
 confession, had been the probable cause of her 
 brother's death. It was all too bitter and unac- 
 countable. Like Violet, she felt the immediate 
 necessity of a change of air, if nothing else. 
 Although it seemed too soon after Euxine's death 
 to accept an invitation, yet, since Violet insisted 
 on going, Lady Rimmon, whose parental instinct 
 of control never could have recognized entire in- 
 dependence on the part of a child, decided to ac- 
 company her. Besides, the Proudfoots Besser's 
 cousins, by the way were old friends. They 
 had often been at Mulvey, and their London 
 house in Trebovir Road seemed always like a 
 home. 
 
 "Are you going, mother?" 
 
 " Yes, dear, I will come, although I'd rather 
 not." 
 
 " Oh then, don't," said Violet. 
 
 " Yes, yes, I am ready." 
 
 Violet was disappointed. She would have pre- 
 ferred to go alone. Her mother was old-fashioned, 
 and acted like a drag. She even objected because
 
 THINKS THAT LOVE DISCOVERS BEAUTY 8 1 
 
 Violet took colored dresses with her. " Oh, but 
 I'm a fright in black ! I can't go about like a 
 nun ! " said Violet, and packed gay silks. She 
 looked at her journal, and read her descriptions 
 of Besser. " How silly of me ! " she thought. 
 " We women keep clinging so long round things 
 that don't even need us. But that is done ! " 
 And she scored page after page. Yet she stopped 
 to read her portraits of him. " His head is one 
 of those shining heads which seem to diffuse 
 light all about. His liturgy can't be fixed. It 
 must be changing every year. It must be 
 poetry. . . . Not a word from him ! " She 
 paused at the entry. " He will not remain a 
 priest ! " " Yes, he will," she said, and struck it 
 out. " His features are extraordinarily regular." 
 She left that in. " His disinterestedness is plain, 
 else why would he live like a poor monk near 
 Siena, and let his land here grow waste. I know 
 what it is. I believe he has entered the Church 
 to get an insight into the world, and he will come 
 out full of strange knowledge. Perhaps not, 
 though." Her eyes fell on the entry. " He 
 must be twenty-five now," and she shut her book. 
 
 What a dull life ! Would something interest- 
 6
 
 82 THE DESTROYER 
 
 ing never happen ? From the beginning she had 
 been made to learn what she should have learned 
 if she ever learned it at all safely late. I say, 
 " safely late," because the emotions really wish 
 to be deceived, and can never believe that they 
 are the pain that they are. Yet, was Violet 
 sorry ? Not quite, because her knowledge of the 
 brutality that is in the world only gave her a 
 periodic thoughtfulness which, although it inter- 
 rupted her gaiety, really vivified it and made it 
 more gay. And, of course, just because that 
 habit of scrutiny never became predominant in 
 her, she could be saved by it no more than any 
 other girl. The future seemed still to be coming 
 to meet her in roses and dances. " Oh ! " she 
 said, " what are our nerves but stringed instru- 
 ments to improvise a pleasure ? " 
 
 That hurry of her feeling, long delayed, became 
 her real danger. Mulvey had turned intolerable. 
 She would have been the last to deny that she 
 was dreaming of a deliverer, or to have considered 
 that fact vulgar or improper. " Will my hands 
 be idle? "she asked. "Nature has given me a 
 lap to nurse things on, and kind hands of mater- 
 nity. O whimpering women, the world is full,
 
 THINKS THAT LOVE DISCOVERS BEAUTY 83 
 
 and is needing us, and we are needing it ! " And 
 wisely she decided that it would be ludicrous to 
 dream any more of Besser. " Un ami perdu, cest 
 une crise" she had written in that part of her 
 book which she kept in French. But he was 
 beyond reach. "And still I have my sphere," 
 she thought. " I wonder who is waiting." 
 
 Hubert Proudfoot was waiting, but neither he 
 knew it nor she. Of all men, Hubert ! Really, 
 life is too strange. If Lady Rimmon had known 
 that in a few weeks Violet would be wedded, and 
 that there would be no undoing it, she would 
 have lifted her hands in appeal against that 
 fatality. 
 
 " D'you know, Edgar," said Hubert one night 
 to Besser in their rooms at Oxford, " did you ever 
 pass through a state when you thought there was 
 nothing worth having except beauty ? " 
 
 "Yes," said Besser; "everybody does." 
 
 "Well, then?" 
 
 " Get out of it." 
 
 "Why, Edgar?" 
 
 " Because it'll ruin you. 
 
 " No, Edgar," said Hubert. " I'll tell you, old 
 chap. / reject the Devil, not because he's bad,
 
 84 THE DESTROYER 
 
 but because he's ugly. It comes to the same 
 thing." 
 
 " Perhaps," replied Besser, knitting fine brows, 
 " but I'm deep in the Middle Ages, and I find 
 there a living belief that Lucifer, who was once 
 lovely, turned ugly when he turned bad. Thus, 
 virtue will keep our good looks ! " 
 
 "Not always true!" cried Hubert, who ad- 
 mired Besser but never shared his seriousness ; 
 " you used to say that religious passion desolates 
 a man's body just like any vice. Outwardly it 
 seems to have almost the same effect." 
 
 " Yes, outwardly," said Besser. 
 
 " Look at this scarred Saint Francis of yours." 
 
 " Yes, I agree ; and Christ's face could never 
 have been immobile, as the portrait has it, but 
 ravaged by emotion. Tintoretto is the only man 
 who saw it." 
 
 " Yes, Edgar, old chap, and you are being rav- 
 aged by it." 
 
 " No, no, but it is true that to be religious you 
 must be something of a flagellant, stinging your- 
 self to sainthood." 
 
 "But to come back to beauty, isn't it awful, 
 Edgar, that it's oftenest given to mediocre people
 
 THINKS THAT LOVE DISCOVERS BEAUTY 85 
 
 who become frightfully alluring and master you. 
 I've seen men do anything just for a pair of eyes 
 and a mouth." 
 
 " Yes," said Besser, " and you can't get five 
 minutes' talk out of them, although you could 
 look at them all day." 
 
 " They have you in their power, and you think 
 wise people stupid beside them." 
 
 " Yes," said Besser, as if he felt the problem of 
 that unequal distribution of beauty. 
 
 " O God ! " cried Hubert, " our fate's in the 
 five senses. Here I go! " 
 
 Edgar caught him before he went. It was the 
 last night they were to be together in Oxford, and 
 Hubert, who had done nothing but play the guitar, 
 was leaving without a degree. The two youths 
 were in striking contrast. Hubert was slim and 
 fair, with moist eyes and thin lips. He was not 
 tall, but because of his slimness he appeared taller 
 than he really was. His hair was full, covering 
 his brow, so that some people used to take him 
 for an artist. And, indeed, the degree of his sen- 
 sibility, and especially his over-refined sense of 
 touch, indicated a nervous system highly mobile. 
 When he spoke excitedly he used to lift his hands
 
 86 THE DESTROYER 
 
 in gestures above his head. But Besser's was a 
 body better knit. He was dark, with deep, vol- 
 uminous eyes, and a certain sense of brooding 
 about his brow. Both men were talking about a 
 career, but Besser was as yet only by a sort of in- 
 stinct exploring the Middle Ages, whereas Hubert 
 would spend years of traveling before he became 
 fixed. Hubert had never been serious, but he had 
 never been gross. His danger lay in that fine- 
 strung body, most delicate mechanism. It was 
 like a wavering instrument for registering infin- 
 itesimal atmospheric pressure of sensation. And 
 it was precisely in the power of feeling, and of 
 feeling finely, that the two men found sympathy. 
 But there was an obvious difference. For when 
 the doctors finally got hold of Hubert, they said 
 that his centers of control were hardly developed. 
 As yet Besser's predominant feeling was that 
 passion of piety which is always like a lovely 
 anachronism in youth. 
 
 " Hubert," he said, " years of traveling and 
 fun." 
 
 "Yes, andfunf" 
 
 Besser still held him by pressure of hand. The 
 religious consciousness knows so little of fun.
 
 THINKS THAT LOVE DISCOVERS BEAUTY S/ 
 
 "Good luck to you, old chappie!" cried 
 Hubert. 
 
 And, as he turned in, Besser thought he would 
 never forget the sharp night wind of spring blow- 
 ing through the open door, with Hubert's voice, 
 and shaking the new leaves. And he asked him- 
 self why so many sinners are lovable. 
 
 So Hubert went, and Edgar stayed with his 
 missals and " the folly of the Cross." Hubert 
 took with him that smattering of his fate which 
 he had recounted to his friend. It was almost 
 ghastly to see him fighting against the five 
 senses. The issue of that struggle had so long ago 
 been determined, apart even from any choice, by 
 Hubert. " You know," he wrote to Besser, " the 
 state I'm in." He meant that he had a single 
 worship, and that it was his chief end to glorify 
 beauty and enjoy it forever. " I find," he wrote 
 again, " that the fundamental sense is the sense of 
 
 o 
 
 touch. Even plants have it. Is any deep friend- 
 ship possible without it ? Everywhere it is the 
 universal language. The heat here is exciting, 
 under this sun of Asia, and the alluring East." 
 
 " Hubert," wrote Besser, "your body is only 
 your soul's sentry-box and point of vigilance.
 
 88 THE DESTROYER 
 
 I've left Oxford. I'm tonsured. You know what 
 that means." 
 
 Hubert was being slowly desolated by that 
 secret tyranny. Hundreds of beings appear to 
 be born for no other purpose. Only a dull on- 
 looker mistakes their tragic appearance. I have 
 seen them in the exciting streets. At twenty-six 
 Hubert's unquiet eyes, moist and glistening, were 
 already full of the mocks and hazards of their 
 search. For this tyranny of beauty colors the 
 eyes as with rainbows of sorrow and pain. It 
 came to him as a sort of challenge. It never 
 came as an appeaser. He was at the point which, 
 later, Besser was himself to traverse, conquering ; 
 the moment at which man becomes supremely 
 tragic ; the moment when his esthetic conscious- 
 ness and his moral consciousness are at war. Besser 
 telegraphed him to come home, but no answers 
 came. " He's gone under," wrote Besser to a 
 friend. Meantime Hubert went north and south, 
 east and west, changing climates and moralities, 
 allowing a hundred civilizations to pass through 
 him not as through a sieve. His observation 
 became quickened. " There are as many different 
 sorts of species of souls as of peoples in the world,"
 
 THINKS THAT LOVE DISCOVERS BEAUTY 89 
 
 he wrote his mother, " and they would all need 
 special evangels so different that I would almost 
 begin to believe in the dogma of special creation 
 of souls, if not of plants and animals." His mother 
 the tall Mrs. Proudfoot, as she used to be called 
 waited for his return, but he went on dating his 
 letters from all points of the compass. His money, 
 three thousand a year, was in his own control. He 
 was drawn hither and thither as by some unseen 
 magnet. He was living in the epidemics of sen- 
 sation. Many a night his mother started from 
 her chair, letting her work fall, and ran to the 
 door when she heard a cab stop at Trebovir Road. 
 " Ah ! he will come," she said, and turned back 
 with a tear. Hubert was yet too busy with 
 the rose-gardens of pleasure and their delusion. 
 Besser would have marveled at that swift, easy 
 wreck. Rumors came that he was living some- 
 where in the gorgeous East, surrounded by Bac- 
 chanals, tipsy with beauty, like St. Francis. A 
 messenger was sent in search, but when he arrived 
 at Damascus, he heard that Hubert was either 
 among the Bedouin Arabs or in Corsica. Wher- 
 ever he arrived he heard that Hubert had just 
 left. There was no possibility of hemming him
 
 90 THE DESTROYER 
 
 in by a stoppage of supplies. His fortune was 
 independent of his mother's control. So he lived 
 through that cycle of his vanity. And if the 
 prodigal ever returned, it was doubtful whether 
 Christian society would meet him a great way off, 
 after the manner prescribed by its Founder. But, 
 happily, he had a mother. Mysterious paradox, 
 that to make God's reputation for mercy, sin must 
 touch heinous limits ! 
 
 Suddenly came a telegram that he was return- 
 ing ill. Three years had passed. Not wishing 
 to give his mother a great shock he sent home a 
 portrait of himself. " Was it he ? " she asked 
 affrighted. He seemed sallow, yet pale, and his 
 eyes were like wandering lights. To make the 
 contrast more strange, there was a smile on him. 
 Sometimes he looked like Franz Hal's " Homme 
 Joyeux." So he was coming to stern England 
 with the scents of that palace of sweet sin upon 
 him, and feeling like an alien in the bitterness of 
 his returning. And the smile was a soft smile of 
 delusion of the soul after the short prides of life. 
 She looked at the portrait three years had done 
 it and she rose at night to look at it again. She 
 kept wondering if it were a mistake, and wished
 
 THINKS THAT LOVE DISCOVERS BEAUTY gi 
 
 to destroy it. It was the face of a fugitive. He 
 was to be home in a month, and she hid his por- 
 trait, not showing it to her friends. "Yes, he 
 comes," she said. She often started to walk ner- 
 vously about the room. " I should have gone to 
 him ! " she cried. " He was always trembling with 
 uncontrolled emotion, my child ! " She counted 
 interminable days and slow serpent hours. She 
 went to the dining-room and took down a portrait 
 that hung at the left window. It was the portrait 
 of Hubert's grandfather when he was about thirty, 
 and she compared it with Hubert's. She saw 
 marks of that same scourge, and the atavism 
 of it, and the same smile as of infinite de- 
 lusion. 
 
 The night on which he was expected she waited 
 till twelve, but he did not come. She fell asleep 
 on her chair, with her eyelids wet. Her hair was 
 white and smooth, and her features relaxed with 
 advancing age. She must have been about sixty- 
 four, but she was worn beyond her years, and her 
 aquiline features exaggerated her decay. She 
 limped as the result of a carriage accident which 
 took place, ironically, on the tenth anniversary of 
 her marriage, when she was driving in Hyde Park
 
 92 THE DESTROYER 
 
 to celebrate it with her husband. He was long 
 dead, and Hubert had been their only child. She 
 had been the daughter of a bishop, and had mar- 
 ried Proudfoot late. Proudfoot had had the 
 reputation of a sensitive recluse. He had trans- 
 lated French and Italian books, and had lived on 
 his ample patrimony. Hubert had inherited his 
 father's delicate organism, and pale eyes and hair. 
 He had been too devotedly brought up. On this 
 very night Mrs. Proudfoot had gone to his room 
 and warmed his night-shirt as she did long ago, 
 taking it out of a drawer where she was keeping 
 it for his first sleep on his return. She put night- 
 lights on a table, and added coals, having sent 
 the servants to bed. She came back and waited, 
 and waited, and at length fell asleep. She started 
 with a fright. But it was a dream merely. She 
 thought he was gripping her hand. She went 
 to the door, however, in case a cab might have 
 stopped, but she returned and sat down again. 
 At last a cab drove up. Breathless, she limped to 
 the door and down the steps. 
 
 " Hubert ! " 
 
 " Yes, ma ma." 
 
 She kissed him before he left the cab, and
 
 THINKS THAT LOVE DISCOVERS BEAUTY 93 
 
 thought his lips cold. The luggage was brought 
 in, and he entered and sat down opposite her, 
 saying nothing, but looking round the room. 
 
 " It's all so strange," he said. 
 
 His eyes were pale but shining, and she noticed 
 the recurrence of old habits, as, for instance, the 
 throwing of the hands above the head. He imme- 
 diately desolated her with his confession, while 
 she clasped him in sobs. " No more, dear boy !" 
 she said. " Nothing more ! " 
 
 " I never could hide anything," he said. " I I 
 want to see Dr. Bede. Do you remember him at 
 Mulvey? Is he there? It's all over with me, I 
 believe. There seem to be two beings in me, 
 and the one hates the other." 
 
 She put him to bed, while her heart was wrung. 
 But she, too, slept that night, although her eye- 
 lids were wet, slept on the belief that there is 
 more joy in Heaven over one sinner that repenteth 
 than over ninety and nine just persons. 
 
 Dr. Bede ordered a year's perfect quiet for him 
 in his mother's keeping. He did not tell them 
 that Hubert was showing signs of incipient para- 
 lytic dementia, but he knew that that was true. 
 Luckily, in science, truth is a matter of demon-
 
 94 THE DESTROYER 
 
 stration, and can be easily chased to its hiding 
 corners. Dr. Bede shook his head. It was an- 
 other proof of his theory of the Destroyer. But 
 a year's repose might restore that wavering equi- 
 librium. Hubert gave himself up, and his mother 
 nursed him back to sanity. The months passed 
 in the quietest way, and he seemed to be getting 
 better, so that Dr. Bede marveled at his progress. 
 He drove with his mother every day in Hyde 
 Park, and gave his night to books. A slight 
 excitement came with the spring, and he began to 
 lose sleep again. But his flesh was less flaccid 
 and pale. Like all lonely men he began to long 
 for dialogue and companionship. 
 
 " I wish I could see Besser," he said to his 
 mother. " When was he last at Mulvey ? I've 
 something to say to him about Lucifer." 
 
 "He's been away for years," said Mrs. Proud- 
 foot. 
 
 " I wish we had somebody, mother." 
 
 " We'll ask the Rimmons," she said. " They 
 will be seeking a change after Prince Euxine's 
 death." 
 
 "I've forgotten Violet. What's she like?" 
 asked Hubert.
 
 THINKS THAT l.OVK DISCOVERS KEAUTV 9$ 
 
 " We'll have them up," said his mother. 
 "We'll give a ball, Hubert." 
 
 So it was settled, and the Rimmons came. 
 Hubert was surprised at Violet's beaut}-, and at 
 first talked shyly to her. He seemed the gen- 
 tlest of beings. The year's repose had brought 
 back a great deal of the charm of his face and its 
 melancholy. They were much thrown in each 
 other's company, but Lady Rimmon looked anx- 
 iously on. 
 
 " We shall not stay long, Violet," she said after 
 the third day. 
 
 " Why ?" asked Violet; "they expect us to 
 stay at least a fortnight. There's going to be a 
 dance." 
 
 " Mrs. Proudfoot has been telling me that her 
 son was once very wild quite awful ! it seems 
 away in the East. I'm sure he doesn't look like 
 it." 
 
 " No, he doesn't," said Violet. 
 
 The truth was, she and Hubert were becoming 
 more and more interested in each other. 
 
 " Have you seen Besser lately ? " he asked. 
 
 " No," she said, " not for four years. He's at 
 the Monastery of Monte Oliveto, near Siena. Do
 
 96 THE DESTROYER 
 
 you know that lovely view of Siena and its 
 towers ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes! " he said. " Look here, Miss Violet, 
 let's put off the dance. What interest have we in 
 other people? Do you want it? " 
 
 " No," she said, and smiled. 
 
 " Edgar's a dreamer," said Hubert. " Do you 
 like dreamers ? " 
 
 " It depends on what they dream." 
 
 They went often out together while their 
 mothers spent half the day alone. 
 
 "You know," said Mrs. Proudfoot, "the doctor 
 says Hubert's never to marry." 
 
 Lady Rimmon felt relieved. She repeated it 
 to Violet. 
 
 " Really ? " said Violet abruptly. " There's not 
 going to be a dance." 
 
 " Oh, we can go, then," said Lady Rimmon. 
 
 " No, mother, that would be rude," said Violet. 
 
 She liked his paleness. " I hate red-faced men ! " 
 she wrote in her journal. And the delicacy of 
 Hubert's features indicated delicate feeling. She 
 never thought he was " dissolutely pale." He 
 was drawn to her by her strength, and she 
 to him by his weakness, and the atmosphere of
 
 THINKS THAT LOVE DISCOVERS BEAUTY 97 
 
 sympathy was pressing around them. He said 
 little because he was suffering much. She was 
 bewitched by the pale form, with shining eyes, 
 and the smile of infinite delusion. He seemed to 
 have lived through his soul's eclipse, and to have 
 passed out, half luminous again, with strange 
 lights. 
 
 " No, no," he said, when he was alone, " all 
 that is past." 
 
 A single year of purification had not been 
 enough. A century would not be, he said. 
 There was never so complete a renunciation of 
 iniquity by any one. Jesus, for instance, would 
 have accepted him straight away ; would have said 
 that he was " born again," and that his past was 
 now dead and meaningless, of no moral or physi- 
 cal importance any more. But the world secretly 
 objects to this doctrine of Jesus, and Science dis- 
 putes it. Yet a criminal may be on the point of 
 renouncing his crime just as you lay your hand 
 upon him. Here, too, the irony was that the re- 
 nunciation was simultaneous with the handcuffs 
 and subtle chains of disease. Happily, there is a 
 religion that believes that we are never stained 
 through and through, and that iniquity takes pos- 
 7
 
 98 THE DESTROYER 
 
 session of the periphery, not the center of our 
 souls. But he felt the piquancy of modern Chris- 
 tian feeling which, although rising out of the fine 
 dogma of forgiveness, and the perfect washing 
 of sin, never forgives. He even acquiesced in it. 
 Really, if Jesus instead of having lived a tragic 
 romance, had written one, and had brought into it 
 that incident of the woman taken in sin, together 
 with the fineness of His pardon, He would have 
 been called indecent. 
 
 But the moments were getting big with feeling. 
 " I never thought," wrote Violet in her journal, 
 " that Love's face had this look of crisis ! " 
 
 " No," he said to her calmly, " I am bound to 
 live like an anchorite. I'm only amass of sensi- 
 tive vegetation. Nature has pleased to make it 
 so ! I am holding on to the last perishing king- 
 doms." 
 
 " Our souls," she said, " are like asbestos un- 
 burnable, unseared. Even the old doctrine of 
 hell believes it ! " and she smiled. 
 
 It was the fine illusion to which her love was 
 helping her, and at that moment she believed in 
 the permanence of the emotions she had once 
 denied.
 
 THINKS THAT LOVE DISCOVERS BEAUTY 99 
 
 " Violet ! " he said, as if he wished her to 
 persuade him it were true. 
 
 He felt it glorious to break the glass and toilet 
 of his vanity, and become again like a little child. 
 
 She turned all his negatives to positives, every 
 " no " to a "yes " ; opening shut doors of the ir- 
 revocable, for a moment, into the open kingdoms 
 of a woman's perfect trust. 
 
 " Violet," urged Lady Rimmon, " let us away ! " 
 
 " Will some wretch of a De Goncourt say that 
 I love the faisandage des choses ? " she wrote in 
 her journal. " If so, let love and charity be cursed 
 for mockeries. I love him, and he is new- 
 born." 
 
 They were to be caught, then, in that hurry 
 and rate of their fatality. Love, indeed, so se- 
 curely blind ! Love always in a hurry ! Mrs. 
 Proudfoot felt secretly glad, in spite of the doctor's 
 warning that Hubert could bear no excitement, 
 and, least of all, the excitement of love. Only 
 Lady Rimmon felt harassed, and wondered what 
 Euxine would have said. She thought of tele- 
 graphing to Sir Saul, but delayed. 
 
 Violet once overheard him speaking aloud. 
 
 " I wish I could see Edgar," he was saying.
 
 100 THE DESTROYER 
 
 She stopped and listened, since it was love's 
 own eavesdropping. 
 
 " So many mouths in the world and so few to 
 talk softly, so many hands and none " 
 
 " Mine, mine ! " she whispered to herself. 
 
 She thought she heard the compression of his 
 body, that reduction of bulk when a spasm 
 of feeling descends. He came out, and she 
 started. 
 
 " I've been eavesdropping," she said, " forgive 
 me!" 
 
 He looked wildly at her, appealingly. 
 
 " I've nobody to save me but you ! " he cried. 
 
 " And I am here ! " she said. 
 
 So that for once love was really mingled with 
 feelings of redemption. Yet, when he kissed her, 
 his lips felt like autumn dust. 
 
 " Mother," cried Violet, " we're betrothed ! " 
 and kissed the astonished mothers. 
 
 Lady Rimmon sat unable to speak, but muttered 
 to herself : " This is the result of winnowing, 
 winnowing, as poor Euxine used to say ! " 
 
 " Violet," said Mrs. Proudfoot, leaning on her 
 cane, " my son 
 
 But Hubert entered, and she stopped.
 
 THINKS THAT LOVE DISCOVERS BEAUTY IOI 
 
 " My dear child ! " said Lady Rimmon resign- 
 edly as he came forward. 
 
 And then it was the moment for die Thrdne in 
 lachenden Auge. Hubert had entered solemnly, 
 but he was now smiling, almost rejuvenated, and 
 with his eyes shining. He sat down and said 
 nothing, but nodded to Violet, slightly throwing 
 back his head. Of course Sir Saul telegraphed 
 congratulations. 
 
 But next day a shadow fell on their already 
 somewhat somber delight. Dr. Bede came in a 
 great hurry to Trebovir Road. He had heard at 
 Mulvey the rumor of Violet's engagement, and 
 he came to prevent the wedding. He attacked 
 first Mrs. Proudfoot and then Lady Rimmon, 
 who implored Mrs. Proudfoot to listen. He had 
 been at Sir Saul, but Sir Saul had shrugged 
 his shoulders. 
 
 " It ought not to be," said Dr. Bede emphati- 
 cally ; " I dare not allow it ! The excitement will 
 kill him. He is not fit to stand it, however things 
 may look to the contrary." 
 
 " I told you, I told you ! " said Lady Rimmon, 
 running to Violet, while Mrs. Proudfoot hid the 
 fact of the doctor's arrival from Hubert.
 
 102 THE DESTROYER 
 
 "The excitement of breaking it off will kill 
 him ! " implored Mrs. Proudfoot. 
 
 But the doctor shook his head angrily. Hubert 
 had got to know of his arrival, but refused to 
 come in. 
 
 " What's he wishing?" he asked, as he felt a 
 cold shiver pass over him. 
 
 Violet was deaf to her mother's entreaties. 
 
 " Tell him I won't see him," she said. " Talk 
 hygiene! " 
 
 So Dr. Bede returned from his thankless ex- 
 pedition. 
 
 "We are going to be married," says Violet in 
 her book, " almost as expeditiously as holy George 
 Herbert." And then she quotes " George Her- 
 bert's Life " " ' This haste might in others be 
 thought a love frenzy.' ' 
 
 Strangely enough, on the very day they 
 all arrived at Rimmon House, there was a 
 rumor in Mulvey that Edgar Besser was re- 
 turning. And, indeed, Mulvey House was being 
 opened, and the gardeners were cutting the 
 lawn. The rumor was immediately supple- 
 mented by another that he had given up the 
 priesthood.
 
 THINKS THAT LOVE DISCOVERS BEAUTY IO3 
 
 " I said he would," said Violet, laughing ; " how 
 strange ! " 
 
 " I'd give anything to see him," said Hubert. 
 " Given up the church ? I wonder why ! " 
 
 Lady Rimmon could only do a mother's part, 
 and help on a consummation in which she had no 
 trust. Preparations were made for a quiet wed- 
 ding, and, indeed, Mrs. Proudfoot was the single 
 guest. Sir Saul's peasants, with old Isaac at their 
 head, hastily prepared their gifts, and " Miss 
 Violet's going away ! " was on every lip. Sir 
 Saul welcomed Hubert as he would have welcomed 
 any other one, but he despaired of making him 
 a sportsman. He never went out shooting, but 
 only walked in the grounds with Violet. The 
 workers were pleased with his gentle air, but they 
 thought he looked as fragile as a ghost. Once 
 when she saw Miriam at the borders of the wood 
 Violet turned quickly back with him. 
 
 At last the day came, and the peasants gathered 
 on the lawn after the ceremony. Hubert had 
 been excited all day. The peasants came for- 
 ward in turn with their gifts, Cubitt stalking up 
 with a porcelain jug, and old Isaac with a leather 
 cigar-case for the newcomer. Miriam, dressed in
 
 104 THE DESTROYER 
 
 a blue gown, with lace at the neck and wrists, 
 presented a little screen of sewed work, which 
 was her own and Mother Dagon's gift. When 
 she came forward Violet appeared to be agitated, 
 and Hubert turned with a strange look. His 
 sharp eyes had caught the resemblance between 
 the girls. He seized Miriam and Violet simul- 
 taneously, calling out "Violet two Violets!" 
 to the confusion of every one. All the peasants 
 began to move, some tittering, while old Isaac 
 asked what was wrong, and Mother Dagon left 
 her place to go home. Violet had turned white, 
 and likewise Sir Saul, and Lady Rimmon went 
 hastily into the house of the veranda. 
 
 " Hubert ! " cried Mrs. Proudfoot, and released 
 Miriam, " you're joking ! " 
 
 " Oh, yes," he said as they went in, while the 
 peasants left the lawn to go to the dinner that 
 had been prepared for them, talking eagerly to 
 each other. 
 
 Hubert laughed, and when he asked who Miriam 
 was, Violet said she didn't know, and took him to 
 see their presents. Sir Saul chatted with Mrs. 
 Proudfoot, while Lady Rimmon was preparing to 
 leave forever. As the day waned it seemed
 
 THINKS THAT LOVE DISCOVERS BEAUTY 105 
 
 never going to wane Hubert became more ex- 
 cited, and repeated " Two Violets ! " till Violet 
 trembled. 
 
 " Hubert," she said, " let's go for a drive." 
 
 " Yes, yes," and they went. 
 
 " Violets grow, don't they ? " he said curiously 
 to her, till she became afraid. 
 
 As they passed The Gates he cried out : 
 " What huge house is that ? Oh, yes, I remem- 
 ber." 
 
 " It's a prison," said Violet. 
 
 " Coachman, drive quick ! " cried Hubert, seiz- 
 ing Violet's hand. " It's a monstrous place! " 
 
 Violet felt dizzy. 
 
 " Mother," she implored when they got back, 
 " don't go ! I will need you ! Don't go, he is 
 ill ! " 
 
 " O child," said Lady Rimmon, " our cup is 
 full ! " 
 
 Mrs. Proudfoot tried to quieten her son, but 
 he talked for two hours till dinner, reciting old 
 poetry and odd verses. 
 
 It was suddenly decided that they should not 
 leave for their honeymoon till next day, and 
 Hubert acquiesced. Hardly a word was spoken
 
 106 THE DESTROYER 
 
 at dinner, though Violet, whose imagination was 
 always full of imagery, seemed to hear the hurry- 
 ing wings of her calamity. Sir Saul called for 
 the health of the young pair. 
 
 " Yes, old boy ! " exclaimed Hubert with a 
 curious leer. He took up his guitar, and looked 
 exactly like the " Homme Joyeux," and his 
 mother noticed the look on him with which he 
 had come home. He sang unintelligible songs of 
 Damascus and the East, passing his eyes from face 
 to face round the table, till at length he stood up 
 and kept time with his foot, and then vanished 
 with Violet. Sir Saul, Lady Rimmon, with her 
 head bowed, and Mrs. Proudfoot, all sat speech- 
 less, turning their wine-glasses mechanically. 
 Then they said " Good-night ! " in whispers, and 
 the lights were extinguished in the old House of 
 Rimmon. 
 
 Later there were cries of " What a night, O 
 God ! " through the old House of Rimmon, 
 " What a night of nuptials ! " as all its inmates 
 rose, and the servants ran with lights and gestures 
 through the corridors to the eastern gable. Some 
 of the servants crossed themselves and passed 
 gestures to each other, while Sir Saul burst a door.
 
 THINKS THAT LOVE DISCOVERS BEAUTY IO? 
 
 " Oh, oh ! " rose, intermittent with the clashing 
 of doors, in the dead middle of the night and that 
 skirmish, and a low " Ha, ha ! " as of some crea- 
 ture fastened with chains. . . . 
 
 " Love ! " wrote Violet next day, so that we 
 seem to feel the very soreness of her emphasis 
 " Love / . . . They took him raving to The 
 Gates. ... I wished something to nurse, and I 
 have it. . . ." 
 
 And from that day her journal was to become 
 Love's solemn Breviary and Book of Hours. 
 
 END OF BOOK I.
 
 BOOK II 
 
 THE UNEASY LOVER
 
 BOOK II 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 DISCOVERS ONE OF THE SUPREME MOMENTS IN 
 THE HISTORY OF FRANCE, AND OF TWO ENG- 
 LISHMEN 
 
 PRAHL thought his master would sleep soundly 
 that night, and he looked into the room at half- 
 past ten to listen to his breathing. The bed was 
 closed up by muslin curtains to protect the 
 sleeper from the gnats. Edgar Besser was breath- 
 ing lightly, and was evidently in his first sleep. 
 He had given up the priesthood three months 
 ago, and was traveling in Sicily, expecting to 
 return to England at the end of summer. A 
 curtain served for a door because of the heat, 
 and was generally left drawn to let as much air 
 through as possible. It was already too late for
 
 112 THE DESTROYER 
 
 Sicily, and even on the heights of Taormina the 
 June sun was becoming intolerable. 
 
 " It's too hot here, Prahl," said Besser ; " it's 
 exciting, like the human warmth in a crowd." 
 
 " I'd bear it all but for the devilish gnats, sir," 
 said Prahl. " Begging your pardon, I like what 
 you call the human warmth in crowds." 
 
 " Yes," said Besser, who was in the habit of 
 throwing away good things on his servant, " it 
 would be well if history could invent a sort of 
 historical thermometer to measure for us the 
 differences of heat in all the great crowds that 
 have ever gathered round the crisis of the world's 
 affairs the crowd round the Cross of Christ ; the 
 Greek crowd waiting for the news from Marathon ; 
 the French crowd round the Bastile, and I don't 
 know how many others. You can't write history 
 without thermometers ! " 
 
 " Eh, master?" said Prahl, "and the lips and 
 the eyes in the crowd ! " 
 
 Prahl was searching for the invisible gnats in 
 his master's bed, and slapping the walls with a 
 towel. 
 
 " Oosh ! . . . oosh ! . . . hist ! " 
 
 " I'll make smoke, master, and choke *em out."
 
 DISCOVERS ONE OF THE SUPREME MOMENTS 113 
 
 " No, leave me," said Besser in a had humor. 
 " To-morrow at six." 
 
 Prahl came back in half an hour, and threw a 
 stone lightly on the mat at the door ; he advanced 
 a step on tiptoe and threw another on the mat 
 in the middle of the room. And when the sleeper 
 gave no sign of waking, he threw another stone 
 more loudly on the mat at the bedside. The 
 room was bright with the moon, which made the 
 muslin curtains shine like silver. Edgar Besser 
 was sleeping quietly. His watch and pocket- 
 book were lying on a small table. Prahl took up 
 the pocketbook, but found nothing in it. Edgar 
 Besser slept with his money under his pillow, 
 not out of fear of Prahl, but of the Sicilian serv- 
 ants. The doors and curtains were open all day 
 and half the night, and any thief might be hidden 
 in the corners of the house. Prahl opened the 
 muslin curtains. His master was lying on his 
 back in a deep sleep. Edgar Besser was younger 
 than Prahl, yet they were of the same build 
 which was convenient for Prahl when he felt in- 
 clined to wear his master's clothes. Prahl's 
 features had smoothness and regularity, and his 
 eyes a certain brilliance. But even a poor
 
 114 THE DESTROYER 
 
 observer might have discovered the notable 
 difference, only to be expected, between the 
 physiognomy of master and of servant. Besser's 
 extremely mobile lips, and the haste in his eyes, 
 had been remarked long ago by Hubert at 
 Oxford. 
 
 " Master's poetic," said Prahl. 
 
 Edgar Besser was twenty-five, and Prahl, who 
 was one year older, considered himself twice 
 superior in knowledge of the world. 
 
 " Master's a youngling," he said. 
 
 He took a feather which he held in his left 
 hand, while he drew back the curtain with his 
 right. He tickled the youngling's neck, and then 
 let the light curtain fall hastily into its place. 
 He waited at the edge of the bed, and heard the 
 youngling turn with a slight murmur. He opened 
 the curtain again. Besser was now lying on his 
 side with his face to the wall. A roll of notes, 
 tied round by a string, was lying half way down 
 the bed. Prahl lifted it, and took out some Italian 
 notes. He put the roll in its place again, and 
 let the curtain fall. Edgar never counted his 
 money. " Poets never do," said Prahl. He ad- 
 mired his master's tastes in clothes.
 
 DISCOVERS ONE OF THE SUPREME MOMENTS 11$ 
 
 " Master's extravagant," he said. 
 
 He took up Besser's clothes, and longed to put 
 them on. They were white, and resembled silk 
 rather than linen, and were finely sewn. 
 
 " Master's waist's the same as mine," said Prahl. 
 " Gott ! such socks, too and the ties ! " 
 
 He took away the whole suit, and sat an hour 
 in it before his own glass. 
 
 It was necessary, indeed, to wear clothes of 
 such a light texture in " sun-trodden " Sicily. 
 And yet, lovers of sun-clad Sicily would not have 
 said the sun was becoming intolerable. They 
 would have followed the goatherds into the cool 
 places where the trees threw clots of shadow on 
 the ground, and listened half the day to the pan 
 pipes ; or gone down to the sea, and sat in a sap- 
 phire pool ; or even, out of mere love of sun-heat, 
 would have sat for hours half-naked in the sun. 
 Prahl and his master had been doing nothing else 
 for days, and were already sun-scorched. On the 
 gradual abandonment of one superfluous garment 
 after another, Besser detected the allurement of 
 Paganism and its excitement. (And, indeed, 
 half our ethics may be tailor-made.) Not once 
 or twice in a day they went down to bathe, and
 
 Il6 THE DESTROYER 
 
 seemed to come back hotter than they went. 
 Instead of walking up the long serpentine road, 
 or taking the green path through the bushes zig- 
 zag to the ruined Greek theater, they went 
 leisurely on horses, half asleep in their saddles, 
 with their feet loose in the stirrups. It was 
 pleasant to meet a Sicilian maid, with an orange- 
 basket or lemon-basket on her head, and pay her 
 double, whether she asked it or not, on every 
 lemon and orange. The vines were ripening. 
 Even Etna, far off, with thick snow cloak, seemed 
 to tell, in spite of himself, by the diaphanous heat- 
 shimmer he was sending up, how much fire still 
 lies in the earth's old heart. 
 
 " Let us get to England, Prahl," said Besser in 
 the morning; "it's not so hot there." 
 
 "And yet," he said, after a pause, " I feel hot 
 everywhere, and when I go home I know the 
 whole atmosphere will be as if charged with elec- 
 tricity. Are you looking forward to Mulvey, 
 Prahl?" 
 
 "Yes, master, and I'll follow you to the ends 
 of the earth." 
 
 " You will find Mulvey strange, and may not 
 like it, but I must spend the summer there. I
 
 DISCOVERS ONE OF THE SUPREME MOMENTS 1 1 
 
 should have been there long ago. It is my own 
 place, and I promised my mother to take care of 
 it after her, but I've neglected it for years." 
 
 " Why will it be strange, sir ? said Prahl. 
 
 " Because I've heard strange rumors about so'me 
 of my friends there." 
 
 Prahl asked no more questions ; he began to 
 pack up. He thought Edgar Besser must be ex- 
 tremely rich, and was eager to see Mulvey House. 
 He had knocked about a good deal, and it seemed 
 the height of luck to have attracted Besser's 
 attention. It was at the Hotel des Palmes in 
 Palermo, where Besser had been staying all May. 
 Prahl was a waiter. Besser had need of servants 
 for Mulvey House, since the old lot had been 
 dismissed when the house had been shut up. He 
 was returning to the world, and it became nec- 
 essary to carry on his estate in a proper style. 
 Prahl seemed to give promise of being a good 
 butler. But, indeed, he had been everything in 
 turn. His father was a German, his mother an 
 Englishwoman, and himself, as he said, a cosmo- 
 politan. His education had been good, and he 
 talked English with surprising correctness, but he 
 had found a German home too dull, and had run
 
 Il8 THE DESTROYER 
 
 off at seventeen. His parents could have appren- 
 ticed him to a decent profession, but he preferred 
 to go through a variety of adventures. He had 
 done all sorts of things. Quick-witted, and of 
 good manner, he could adapt himself to whomso- 
 ever he met, and his gentlemanly air won him 
 good places. But his restlessness drove him 
 about, and he suffered reverses because of his 
 vanity and caprice, and sometimes his dishonesty. 
 But this never prevented him, from getting good 
 berths. He had been down a mine, and on a 
 fishing boat, and he once managed a mill. He 
 had a smattering of most European languages, 
 and passed from one country to another. If he 
 saved money he was sure to spend it recklessly 
 in the end, and was forced to accept any work 
 that turned up. Besser saw he had wits, and was 
 something more than a server of dishes. He 
 spoke to him, and asked him if he would become 
 a private servant. 
 
 " I'm going to my property," said Besser, " and 
 I need a man like you." 
 
 Prahl accepted at once. 
 
 A few days, indeed, were sufficient to let him 
 see what a fine fortune had tumbled at his feet.
 
 DISCOVERS ONE OF THE SUPREME MOMENTS 119 
 
 To be the private servant of a young dreamer, as 
 Besser seemed to be, rich and generous, was a 
 chance worth having. 
 
 " I was once a priest you know, Prahl." 
 " A priest, sir ! " exclaimed Prahl, astonished. 
 " Yes ; some months ago. Look ! " 
 And Besser bent his head to show the mark of 
 the tonsure. The circle, once bald, was now grown 
 over and covered by the thickening dark hair. 
 " I gave it up for various reasons." 
 Prahl smiled, but checked himself. He watched 
 the ex-priest, and thought he looked like a boy 
 set free from school. 
 
 " I'll always remain loyal to the Church," Bes- 
 ser had said to the Abate di Negri, at Monte 
 Oliveto, " because it expresses our emotional 
 needs, but I can't find how all the mass of the 
 world's contradictions fit into its formulae. They 
 are condemned but not explained, or else are 
 crushed in unscientifically." 
 
 The old abbot, smiling, laid his hand upon him 
 
 and said : " We are all children of the same 
 
 Father " (not siamo, tutti, figli, dello stesso Padre /). 
 
 Edgar had been at Monte Oliveto three years. 
 
 Although he had been instinctively moving since
 
 I2O THE DESTROYER 
 
 early youth towards the ritual of the Roman 
 Church, he had arrived a Protestant at Monte 
 Oliveto, and had remained a Protestant for 
 eighteen months. It was because faith for him 
 was so charged with imagination that the change 
 would be inevitable. Protestantism knew too 
 much, was coldly logical, and seemed to walk 
 round God in full comprehension. It fatigues 
 the imagination just because it gives it no work 
 to do. Edgar had come, weary of the intellectual 
 battle, and had sought repose. His first intention 
 was merely to learn Italian, and he had gained 
 permission from Siena to remain at the monastery 
 for purposes of study. Many a day he sat in the 
 pillared library, while the sun poured through the 
 windows, and he leant over Dante and Leopardi. 
 He left the great Virgil untouched perhaps, be- 
 cause he found both already so full of him. 
 Every forenoon, before the great bell rang for 
 dinner, he walked round and round the old clois- 
 ters, where the walls are covered with work of 
 Signorelli and of Bazzi. Below the pavement the 
 monks are sleeping, and, alas ! the Abate di 
 Negri was there only lately laid. Often Besser 
 stood before the great flagstone on which is in-
 
 DISCOVERS ONE OF THE SUPREME MOMENTS 121 
 
 scribed " MonacJwrum Sepulchrum" near the wall 
 where Bazzi's herculean Christ seems more than 
 fit to bear the Cross. When the boys came out 
 to draw water from the great central well, Besser 
 used to pull the chain up for them. Ah ! Giorni 
 dolci ! He seemed at last to have found peace 
 in the vast empty monastery, which was still echo- 
 ing with the footsteps of old beliefs. There were 
 only two monks, both old, the abbot and Dom 
 Guiseppe, and, at least, the abbot was unforget- 
 table. So, indeed, was Dom Guiseppe, with his 
 simple peasant heart and faith. The night he 
 arrived, Besser was set at the head of the supper- 
 table in the novitiates' refectory, now used instead 
 of the great refectory, which did service when 
 there were more than two hundred monks. The 
 Abate playfully said that he was to be their new 
 abbot. 
 
 Giorni dolcissimi ! From his three western 
 windows he saw Siena far away and its towers, 
 and the rough-and-tumble Tuscan landscape lit 
 by the Tuscan sun. In his first letter to Hubert 
 he wrote : " What a place for stars ! " He was 
 present when the olives were being crushed, and 
 he took part in managing the great horse mill,
 
 122 THE DESTROYER 
 
 and his wages were bottles of " virgin " oil. He 
 helped, too, in making the wine, and stood at the 
 wine vats, foaming with purple drippings of 
 grapes, and used to dream that he was seeing 
 Dionysus beautiful wine god ! Often, too, he 
 went with the goat-herd to gather in the goats at 
 Ave Maria, but, indeed, they seemed to know 
 the bell, and came, undriven, tinkling home. 
 Every morning Abate di Negri knocked at his 
 door to say " Buon giorno ! " and to give him, as 
 long as it lasted, a sprig of jasmine. Soon the 
 place became for him a medieval home, and he wept 
 tears of joy and thanked God that he had found 
 once more the very knees of prayer. Almost un- 
 interruptedly unless when it was snowing in 
 January he rode to Buon Convento, or through 
 Chiusuri to San Giovanni d'Asso, and invariably 
 the abbot met him on the way home. He used 
 to dismount and give the horse to a groom, and 
 walk back with the abbot. The abbot dear 
 saint ! his face used to shine as with St. Francis' 
 sweet " Folly of the Cross," and his head, too, as 
 with an aureole. Often he came at night to 
 Besser's room, and sat at the well-heaped fire, 
 bringing a bunch of raisins and figs of his own
 
 DISCOVERS ONE OF THE SUPREME MOMENTS 123 
 
 drying, and a newspaper from Genoa, and a 
 " Book of Hours." Besser listened to his wisdom 
 which was always tickled with humor, and used 
 to marvel at his knowledge of English history, 
 and especially of the period of Henry VIII. and 
 Elizabeth. Long were their talks, but never 
 once did Abate di Negri attempt to apostatize, 
 and when Besser used to call him "padre mio" 
 he refused it with a fine gesture. He meant 
 what he said, when he declared so often : " Siamo 
 figli dello stesso Padre ! " 
 
 The spirit of the place, its medieval glow, was 
 fast penetrating Besser's highly imaginative and 
 receptive nature. He used to ring the bell for 
 Matins, and sometimes helped to clean the church. 
 From the beginning he had kept their Saints' 
 Days out of courtesy, and he never ate beef on 
 Fridays. The first Friday the abbot had got a 
 chicken and a cutlet prepared for him, while the 
 others partook of polenta and fish. But Besser, 
 with a fine delicacy, identified himself with them, 
 and sent the beef to a beggar. When visitors 
 came, he used to show them over the building, 
 lingering long at the wonderful doors of the 
 library. He began to feel the stir of old emo-
 
 124 THE DESTROYER 
 
 tions now embodied and intensified in an actual 
 life. He used to lie awake in his little iron bed, 
 hearing the owls hoot under the cypresses in the 
 vast garden. He lay awake, and when he did 
 sleep and awoke again, why were his eyelids wet? 
 He kept a book of " Stray Notes," and under the 
 date December igth, he had written : " Mere 
 midnight in my brain ! Read Leopardi, which 
 made things worse ! 
 
 " ' So che natura e sorda 
 Che miserar non sa. . . .'" 
 
 That moment of pained impulse drove him to 
 surrender. Next day he astonished the abbot by 
 asking to be received into the Church. The 
 abbot refused, and told him to wait. 
 
 " Dear Edgar," said the abbot, " I assure you 
 that my best friends are your countrymen, and 
 they are all Protestants." 
 
 That indeed was true. And if the abbot had 
 been orthodox, he never would have quoted, as 
 he so often did, the sermons of Savonarola, al- 
 ways adding, " Poveretto ! " But Edgar insisted. 
 It was the impatience of a warm nature. He 
 wished to become a priest. The imaginative and
 
 DISCOVERS ONE OF THE SUPREME MOMENTS 12$ 
 
 emotional moment had come, and he could not 
 pass it, brief though it was going to be. He 
 pleaded for entrance, and the abbot at length 
 yielded, but warned him that the change had 
 come only because Besser was generous and im- 
 pressionable, open to the fineness of beliefs op- 
 posed to his own. 
 
 " Yet, let it be ! " said the old man. " If you 
 pass out of it you will be richer. / am richer 
 by remaining in it. O Edgar, in such an age we 
 cannot afford to throw away even the splinters and 
 dust of that poetry (quella bella poesia)" 
 
 A special Dispensation was received from Rome. 
 Abate di Negri had met Pius XI. and was his 
 friend. Edgar was found learned in the theology 
 of the Church, and was received without training 
 doubtless partly because of his wealth. He 
 spent his money freely among the poor. At first 
 it was proposed that he should take up his place 
 at Orvieto, where there was a vacancy, but he 
 refused to leave Abate di Negri. His independ- 
 ence and large fortune, doubtless, helped to make 
 the circumstances special for him, and he was left 
 free. Soon " il prete inglese " became as familiar 
 in the countryside as the abbot himself or Dom
 
 126 THE DESTROYER 
 
 Guiseppe. The next eighteen months passed in 
 the fulfilment of simple duties. Besser was now 
 twenty-five, and he was going to pay the price of 
 a nature developed as much on the side of the in- 
 tellect as on the side of the imagination. Such a 
 nature can never find salvation in a single mood, 
 and it was with dread that he began to suspect 
 that his medieval dream might be coming to an 
 end. What was really to be wondered at, was 
 that a young man so rich, and with opportunities 
 of worldly distinction so great, had ever embraced 
 such a life at all. But he now felt the need of 
 change, and he seemed to hear the noise of the 
 world sounding far off like a vast symphony. 
 Ci chiama il mare ! " Am I wise ? Have I been 
 wise?" he was asking himself with a sickening 
 heart. He could not help being modern. He 
 had forgotten it only a moment at the insurrec- 
 tion of that deep feeling of the charged mystery 
 of life. He had obeyed the impulse, and wisely, 
 because at the moment he could have done nothing 
 ought to have done nothing but stammer in 
 that broken speech of emotion. Yet yet 
 Nemesis was already perhaps lurking. He was a 
 being of complex needs, with a rapid intellect and
 
 DISCOVERS ONE OF THE SUPREME MOMENTS I2/ 
 
 a desire for the fights in the world. Could he 
 wait ? He looked at himself. He was tonsured ; 
 he wore a medieval garb. It was the strangest 
 metamorphosis. It seemed to be the very wizard- 
 ry of the invisible that had transformed him into 
 a believing being in the old robes of faith. And 
 when he suspected the moment to be approach- 
 ing at which he must put them off, he shrank 
 back ashamed and afraid. He had explored the 
 Middle Ages as a poet, not as a believer ; yet his 
 face had now the mark and color of the great Age 
 of Faith, when the Church seemed to set its seal 
 on every lip, and subdued the very physiognomy 
 of the world to the image of Another Kingdom. 
 A look of sorrow and awe hung upon Besser's 
 face till it took on the pigment of his discomfiture. 
 Was stern England not calling him ? Were the 
 poor of Mulvey, who had been his mother's care 
 for thirty years, not left to him by her as a sacred 
 charge ? And he had deserted them for the glow 
 of this medieval dream. The Tuscan sun, the 
 Tuscan landscape, Siena and its towers, the life 
 of monks, vine-dressing, olive-gathering, the 
 saunter at Ave Maria under the cypresses, whose 
 tops were like pinnacled gold, the very health of
 
 128 THE DESTROYER 
 
 the place and its deep peace, was it not all cush- 
 ioned luxury in disguise, even though his floor 
 had no carpet, and his bed no quilt ? 
 
 " Ah, I told you ! " said Abate di Negri gently. 
 " Chi va piano va sano e lontano ! " 
 
 "No, no," said Besser abashed, ''but it's but 
 it's " and he stammered his distress. 
 
 He could never go piano. 
 
 " Leit troppo bello per unprete ! " said the abbot. 
 " You're too good-looking to be a priest." 
 
 " Padre Abate ! " exclaimed Besser. " It's my 
 England that I've deserted. I've allowed the 
 Church to rob me of my fatherland. I threw it 
 away for a bunch of sentiments ! " 
 
 " I love your countrymen," said the Abate, with 
 his quickening smile. " Sono tanto amabili ! " 
 and he caught Besser's monk's sleeve. 
 
 Really, Besser did not know that he was being 
 driven from his refuge by unsatisfied love. Yet, 
 once he had said to himself aghast : " My soul 
 is sitting in sedition ! " For he had come 
 to the point of the great interruption in a 
 man's life when every other interest is sus- 
 pended, and there are natures to whom a sense 
 of possible coming guilt is like a sense of guilt
 
 DISCOVERS ONE OF THE SUPREME MOMENTS 1 29 
 
 already come. Nay, nay, how could he know 
 love as a hunter ? 
 
 He must put off those robes of faith, and 
 quickly. He went away suddenly, hugging his 
 crucifix, while he was telling the beads of his 
 emotion, if not of his beliefs. It was wonderful, 
 indeed, that he was to become just doubly strong 
 after he had thrown aside that vesture. " I will 
 denude myself of it ! " he cried. " I will take 
 away every pillar and prop of official morality 
 that might hold me up, as it holds so many men 
 who would otherwise fall. I will stand absolutely 
 alone with the bare bodkin of intellect, and fight 
 this mystery ! Religious passion really excites 
 the body. Think of the flagellants ! And I have 
 known men who became, as it were, slaves before 
 God, till he whipped them to sainthood. But a 
 man can take refuge in his brain alone, and in the 
 intellectual scorn of ribaldry. ... I will think 
 of Hubert ! A man needs nothing except crush- 
 ing force of will to let him see that passion is a 
 farce. I, too, have heard that wildness within 
 me, and it sounded the way an insolent knock 
 sounds at your door ! " 
 
 Yet it was with reluctance that he was admit- 
 9
 
 130 THE DESTROYER 
 
 ting to himself that he was beset by the arrow of 
 love that flieth by night, and he felt a secret in- 
 dignation. Nothing but a sure target, he ! He 
 knew that the moral struggle of the modern man 
 is keener than the world has ever known it, just 
 because he contains all its accumulated contra- 
 dictions, the very core and central skirmish of 
 that battle. Heirs of all the ages yes, and of 
 their vice as well ! To England, then, where the 
 battle lay in a form known to himself, and waged 
 of weapons that were native to him. Thus his 
 destiny was quickening within him. He never 
 juggled with himself. " I am meant for the 
 world," he said. " I have been an impulsive 
 fool ! " But it was long before the final admis- 
 sion came : " I must marry ! " Surely, however, 
 just because his romance had been so long in- 
 visible as true romance always is it was thus 
 deeper and more richly colored. 
 
 Would he ever forget the farewell? He left 
 Monte Oliveto robed like a priest. 
 
 " And yes, yes ! " he exclaimed, " dear padre, I 
 shall remain one, though not formally," while 
 the Abate smiled, sure of the uninterrupted inner 
 goodness of his young apostate.
 
 DISCOVERS ONE OF THE SUPREME MOMENTS 131 
 
 " Ah, child ! " he said, " what if, after all, our 
 beliefs are only the caricature of God ? " 
 
 The great oxen came round to the main door, 
 yoked to a cart shaped in the antique pattern 
 that is to be seen in Greek sculpture. Besser's 
 luggage was put upon it, and a crowd of swarthy 
 peasants, many of them weeping, stood round. 
 The night before, the abbot had given him an 
 Italian Bible, and the thing was so strangely done 
 that unless Besser had been sure of the old man's 
 delicacy, he might have suspected irony. For it 
 was a Protestant Bible, and on the flyleaf there 
 was inscribed, in the abbot's fine and almost in- 
 visible handwriting : 
 
 " M.O.M. 
 
 " Affettuoso ricordo dell ''Abate di Negri all 'egregio e studiosis- 
 simo, SIGR. EDGAR BESSER." 
 
 What may be translated thus : 
 
 " Affectionate souvenir from Abbot di Negri to the much- 
 honored and most-learned, SIG. EDGAR BESSER." 
 
 " Father," he said, " I am still your son." 
 In the morning the old man, with tears in his 
 eyes, kissed him on both cheeks. They were 
 both standing under the great gable of the church.
 
 132 THE DESTROYER 
 
 As he went up the cypress avenue, waving adieu, 
 Besser felt the deplorable deceptiveness of the 
 emotions, for he could have run back again, over- 
 powered by the " Folly of the Cross." 
 
 He took with him the Protestant Bible and a 
 crucifix, a volume of Giordano Bruno, and of 
 Machiavelli, all the gifts of the abbot, and they 
 seemed symbolical of his myriad mood. 
 
 So now he was coming to stern England, with 
 the scent of that sweet incense upon him, and 
 his eyes were colored as with the rich glow of 
 medieval windows. At first he felt the vague 
 uneasiness of all unanchored things. All through 
 life he was to bear about with him the smoke of 
 incense, like an elusive symbol. Even when he 
 had put off his old robes of faith, it seemed to 
 cling to his garments, now less picturesque, and 
 to surround him like a protecting atmosphere. 
 His heart was so full, and he knew so well the 
 need of disclosure, that he was in danger of un- 
 veiling himself even to those who were unfit to 
 hear. For he had a wild orator in him, and he 
 always sublimated an audience to his level. Long 
 ago, in England, he had once made a speech to 
 miners, and when he told them all the hidden
 
 DISCOVERS ONE OF THE SUPREME MOMENTS 133 
 
 greatness that was in them nuggets and veins of 
 bright metal their faces glowed for a moment as 
 if it had been true. " Look, men," he had said, " I 
 will take each of you at his finest moment, I will 
 possess him in golden packets and gorgeous 
 bits ! " 
 
 Thus, too, he spoke deeply to his servant Prahl, 
 throwing away hundreds of pearls upon him, until 
 Prahl thought he had become the servant of a 
 mad dreamer. They were now in Paris. It was 
 September, 1870, a few months before the begin- 
 ning of the siege. Besser felt the extraordinary 
 dramatic contrast of this commotion after the still 
 life he had been leading. They had got in with 
 the greatest difficulty, but Prahl knew a colonel 
 of a regiment who gave them lines, and they 
 passed the " military zone " unmolested. Besser 
 saw the wreck of the nation, and he waited to see 
 more. He smiled derisively at the wan beings 
 who were called out to form the national defense 
 men undermined by modern pleasures, and 
 who, because they had been beaten in that battle 
 of the instincts, as he said, would never face the 
 Prussian guns. It was the evening of the third 
 of September, when the news came that Mac-
 
 134 THE DESTROYER 
 
 Mahon was defeated, and the Emperor in captiv- 
 ity. Night was coming down on the vast city, 
 with its two millions of breathless beings, pale 
 with emotion. What a scene ! The Court had 
 fled. There were cries of " Dtchtance ! " " Vive 
 Trochu ! " " Vive la Rtpublique ! " They were 
 moved involuntarily from street to street by 
 the crowds ebbing and flowing. The whole 
 nation seemed to have expanded into a huge 
 family in a moment, and a frisson of brotherhood, 
 in face of the invader, passed through the hearts 
 of rich and poor, and linked them electrically. 
 Groups were storming the kiosks for the journals, 
 and were reading by the feeble gaslight, for the 
 Government had already ordered economy of 
 gas. Half the city was enveloped in darkness, 
 and there was a feeling of calamity imminent. 
 The chairs of the cafes on the Boulevards were 
 occupied by a standing, not a sitting crowd, and 
 Besser seemed to catch the very gesture of the 
 nation's despair. There were loud, angry cries, 
 and blasphemies against great names that had 
 yesterday been mentioned obsequiously, and then 
 a low, suppressed groan of the enraged multitude, 
 muttering against its traitors. Here, indeed, was
 
 DISCOVERS ONE OF THE SUPREME MOMENTS 135 
 
 one of the great crowds of history with passion 
 hot enough to make a lover of paradox say that 
 the difference of historical periods is thermometric. 
 
 " Keep near," said Besser, gripping Prahl, " this 
 is life ! " 
 
 They were in the Rue de Rivoli, and were being 
 carried along past the gates of the Tuileries to 
 the Place de la Concorde. The September sky 
 was blue dark above the city. The crowds were 
 already taking up their position for to-morrow 
 round the Chamber of Deputies where the 
 Republic would be proclaimed. Carriages and 
 carts were arrested in the mid traffic, and were 
 standing stock still, with people climbing up on 
 them. The roofs were packed, and boys had 
 mounted the lamp-posts to see better, and be out 
 of danger. The Imperial arms set above the 
 doors of those who had been yesterday fournis- 
 seurs to the Court were being torn from their 
 places amid the revengeful laughter and mockery 
 of the people. 
 
 " Crickie," said Prahl, " the squeezes ! " 
 
 He found a grisette near him, and whispered to 
 her, while Besser held colloquy with his neighbor, 
 who was a gendarme.
 
 136 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " Quest ce que tu veux, cherie ? " whispered 
 Prahl, and put his arm round her waist. " Mi- 
 gnonne ! V amour cest la vraie revolution, la vraie 
 guerre, nest ce pas ? " 
 
 Grisette said yes, and nudged nearer. 
 
 The Prussians were almost within six marches 
 of Paris. When the wounded, who had gone out 
 hale to meet them, passed in slow military 
 wagons through the crowd, there was a murmur 
 of sorrow and pity. The ramparts were rising all 
 round the city, and houses were being pulled 
 ruthlessly down to make room for the " military 
 zone," while those who were now homeless were 
 flocking into the city. The Bois de Boulogne 
 was being devastated, and the great trees were 
 falling to the ax. Besser went hither and thither 
 to examine the main points of the city, and he 
 was present at the Louvre when the great pictures 
 and treasures of art were being packed and sent 
 off to Brest, marked " fragile." There were al- 
 ready signs of the approaching famine. In some 
 quarters only the bakers' shops were open, and 
 the indispensable hairdressers,' since the last 
 thing France would surrender would be its toilet. 
 Horseflesh was already being consumed in the
 
 DISCOVERS ONE OF THE SUPREME MOMENTS 137 
 
 poorer quarters, and the city was living on a di- 
 minishing menu. 
 
 But Besser marked still another phase in the 
 great city's commotion. The Prussian guns 
 might boom, but lust still sent its votaries, like 
 children, early to bed. Nay, it was known that 
 the courtezans were hurrying to nurse the 
 wounded, hastily improvising themselves into 
 nurses, in order to mingle the excitement of war 
 with their own personal excitement in therapeu- 
 tics. Besser stood watching the ghastly physiog- 
 nomy of men and women who made the public 
 calamity the occasion of private debauch. He 
 saw the idiotic smile of invitation, and whispered 
 to Prahl : " Paris will fall ! " 
 
 One night he had an unforgettable experience. 
 He went to dine at Brebant's, where Renan, 
 Edmund de Goncourt, Berthelot, Nefftzer, and 
 Saint Victor regularly assembled. He saw Renan 
 enter and sit at a table to read a newspaper. He 
 was like a priest, large, corpulent, with double 
 chin, but his white hair, which was still plenteous, 
 rounded off a noble head. Besser watched him 
 moving his arms in gestures of disappointment 
 and irritation as he read the latest evil fortunes
 
 138 THE DESTROYER 
 
 of the war. When the others had assembled, 
 Besser bribed a waiter to allow him to remain be- 
 hind the red baize service door, and he heard part 
 of the conversation. Renan was foretelling the 
 destruction of France, and blaming Catholicism. 
 
 " Out, messieurs," he was saying, " les allemands 
 sont une race supe'rieure ! Le Catholicisme est tine 
 crttinisation de Vindividu" Besser almost came 
 out from his lurking-place in defense of his medi- 
 eval dream. Had he been cretinized ? Ah, what 
 
 if ? But his reflections were interrupted by 
 
 the loud protest of the other guests, although he 
 could not distinguish which voice was loudest. 
 Perhaps it was De Goncourt's. He ventured to 
 look through the glass paneling, and he saw 
 Renan rise and walk round the room, beating the 
 air with his hands, and pointing contemptuously 
 to the rabble in the street, and adapting frag- 
 ments of Scripture : 
 
 " Blessed is the nation that hath her quiver full of 
 them, they shall meet with the enemy in the gate." 
 
 " // n 'y a rien que q a ! " 
 
 Besser hurried out, but he was to be witness of 
 a still stranger scene. The streets were full of 
 the murmuring crowd, who seemed to have
 
 DISCOVERS ONE OF THE SUPREME MOMENTS 139 
 
 become more panic-stricken. He had arrived at 
 the Rue de Vannes when he heard a strange cry. 
 It was one of the badly-lit streets, but he was able 
 to distinguish an angry mob that stood beneath 
 some lighted windows. He heard a persistent 
 cry : " A bas les lupanars ! " (Down with the 
 bawdy-houses ! ") A strange shiver passed over 
 Besser, as he said to Prahl : " This is one of the 
 great moments of history ! " Indeed, the people 
 seem to have detected the root of their peril. 
 They knew where the Destroyer sat ! The lights 
 were turned out, and in a few moments Besser 
 saw some pale wretches being dragged from the 
 beds of their delusion into the hisses and jeers of 
 the angry crowd. Besser felt it was the apex of 
 national tragedy. He, too, began to take part in 
 the cry, and shouted " A bas les lupanars ! " when 
 he became aware of a strange figure who seemed 
 to be addressing the crowd in excited gestures. 
 He was a man, slightly built, not tall, of refined 
 features, now animated with the intoxication of 
 rapid speech, and with fair hair appearing below 
 the brim of a low, brown hat. He had been call- 
 ing out alternately in French and English, in 
 hoarse voice : "A bas les lupanars ! Out ! "
 
 I4O THE DESTROYER 
 
 " O God ! " exclaimed Besser, when he saw his 
 face, " it's Hubert ! " and he was almost stunned. 
 
 He struggled to get near him, crying: "It's 
 Hubert ! " 
 
 Hubert was standing on a bench, and turned 
 at the sound, but at first could not recognize 
 Besser in the sea of faces. 
 
 He went on with his speech " A has ! A has 
 les lupanars ! " as if a demon energy had pos- 
 session of him. 
 
 " Hubert ! " cried Besser again with his voice 
 breaking. 
 
 Suddenly Hubert saw him, and jumped down 
 with nightmare on his face. They shook hands 
 without speaking, and disappeared, clinging to 
 each other, through the pressing crowd. 
 
 " O Edgar, I'm glad it's dark that you can't 
 see me ! Give me your hand, old chappie ! "
 
 CHAPTER II 
 L'HOMME JOYEUX 
 
 " THEY are all upbraiding me," wrote Violet, 
 three days after Hubert had been taken from her. 
 " They say I deserve my punishment. Oh yes, 
 perhaps I do ; because I never believed the worst 
 they said, and because, even though I had, I would 
 have taken him in his repentance. I am wicked ! 
 
 God, help me to bear this ! I am crushed ; 
 
 1 am not proud any more. Because I loved 
 him, and not merely loved his love for me, like 
 other women, I have received this blow. They 
 wag their heads at me, and ask why I married him. 
 I answer that I married him because I saw his soul 
 shining like a light in a poor temple. I confess 
 I did not wish to know that the temple was in 
 ruins. I am wicked because I took him in the 
 middle of his renouncement. I loved him. I 
 couldn't help it. Yes, it was sudden like a ship- 
 wreck. . . . Oh, I am afraid ! Father is raging. 
 
 141
 
 142 THE DESTROYER 
 
 He ! And mother is weeping her life away. / 
 have done it all. They tell me he will have lucid 
 intervals, and I will have him back. / will never 
 have lucid intervals ! Now I begin to see why 
 insanity fascinated great dramatic minds, like 
 Shakespeare and the Greek tragedians. . . . 
 Come, sorrow, whet your music ! " 
 
 She shut herself in, fleeing from the dry " Ha ! 
 ha!" and "I told you!" of their virtue. She 
 knew that joy was finished, and that, if it ever 
 came again, she would meet it with the surprise 
 with which we meet purple flowers in autumn. 
 
 " Oh," she cried in her desolateness, " God 
 Christ any kind power of mercy, give me, then, 
 a whip of cords for my profanation ! for I offer 
 myself completely, and am not proud any more." 
 
 There was now silence in the old House of 
 Rimmon, and the very servants went tiptoe. 
 Not a sound along the huge corridors, double 
 carpeted, except now and again the noise of a 
 shutting door. Violet used to let her terrier sit 
 for hours whining at her bedroom and scraping 
 to get in. She never saw her father, and her 
 mother came knocking, but often went away 
 unanswered. The summer heat was beating
 
 L'HOMME JOYEUX 143 
 
 against the walls, and sending bees humming 
 through the open windows, but she never stirred. 
 Dr. Bede came to see her, and found her some- 
 times lost in a waking dream. He came softly to 
 her, not mentioning his old warning, or screwing 
 his eyes in satisfaction over the accuracy of it. 
 
 " Doctor," exclaimed Violet, " the iniquitous 
 velocity of it ! " 
 
 " My dear," said the doctor, " have patience. 
 We shall make him well again. It's the remittent 
 type." 
 
 " The what ? " she cried, amid the dropping of 
 her tears. 
 
 Dr. Bede did not explain everything, although 
 he gave Hubert's disorder many a name. It was 
 likely that he would live about two years. Half 
 Violet's burden was lightened when she heard 
 that the disease was congenital. The grandfather, 
 whose portrait Mrs. Proudfoot had taken down 
 to compare with her son's, had died of paralysis. 
 Hubert's trouble, latent for years, had suddenly 
 displayed itself in an attack of maniacal excite- 
 ment. It was the fulfilment of Bede's prophecy. 
 Meantime, he told Violet that it was the result 
 of neurasthenia. But it was far more. Hubert
 
 144 THE DESTROYER 
 
 had already the De"lire des grandeurs. He had 
 assured the doctor that he was the greatest re- 
 former the world had ever seen, and that he was 
 busy healing the sick, and especially delivering 
 mankind from the bondage of a fiend. He com- 
 plained of the vast crowds that pressed round him 
 for help. 
 
 "Oh, //" he exclaimed rapidly, but in an 
 apparently normal voice, " I will crush it out of 
 the world, you know. I will ruin him, you know, 
 the way he has ruined me. A bas ! " 
 
 The Gates was a vast building, containing some 
 two hundred and fifty of the insane. Hubert 
 was kept alone, while those who were less excit- 
 able were herded in long rooms, where most of 
 them stood immobile for hours. And yet, if you 
 visited it, you would ask, like Burke, where the 
 insane are, since they go about like ordinary 
 people, and appear to act from the same motives. 
 In Hubert's case the main effort was to bring 
 back his bodily health, and, at least, he had youth 
 on his side. Two months passed, and Dr. Bede 
 announced a " remission," to be followed, doubt- 
 less, by a lucid interval. The unmistakable signs 
 were already appearing. The pupils of his eyes,
 
 L'HOMME JOYEUX 145 
 
 which had become like pin points, were resuming 
 their usual condition, and the old, rather un- 
 canny light, began to shine in them. But Bede 
 refused to allow Violet to see him, although she 
 implored. She would nurse him, she said. It 
 could not be. The slow doom seemed at last to 
 have fallen on the old House of Rimmon, and it 
 lay inert on its foundations, dead without and 
 within. Not even the servants appeared at 
 church, obeying a command to keep down pub- 
 licity. Only now and again Lady Rimmon might 
 be seen sitting at Euxine's grave. Violet was 
 never seen at all. Slow hours ! She was study- 
 ing forms of alienation, or looking from her win- 
 dows, like a frightened creature, on the ripening 
 lawn. The peasants did their work mechanically, 
 unsupervised, almost in whispers, and when they 
 came together used to gossip their awe. 
 
 " All's goin' wrong since the Prince died," 
 muttered Isaac. 
 
 " Aye, me ! " said Mother Dagon. 
 
 Violet came no more into the fields to welcome 
 the reapers, and the poppies were again left for 
 Miriam to pluck. Miriam was still puzzling 
 
 Cubitt, and laughing at his awkward legs. Cubitt 
 10
 
 146 THE DESTROYER 
 
 was still bewildered, and waiting in patience. 
 Isaac grew more blind and bent, and Mother 
 Dagon's step was as nervous as sin's. Only once 
 or twice Miriam used to sing, but not loudly, 
 among the sheaves : 
 
 The clematis climbs 
 Like a purple adder 
 And the sun's on the limes ! 
 
 But Violet used to hum a low song over die 
 Verlorene Liebe. " I believe," she wrote, " that 
 sympathy is our master feeling, and I never leave 
 a plant alone but give it a companion plant. . . . 
 If they will let me, I will go and see him. I am 
 frightened he will escape and go storming through 
 the world. Ah, me ! he once said, almost in the 
 words of Dr. Bede, that he would spend his life, 
 like Edgar Besser, lifting men out of the fate 
 of the five senses ! . . . He used to talk about 
 Lucifer. . . . They say he gets quieter, and 
 some day perhaps ? resurrection ! It's a won- 
 derful word ! " 
 
 " Look here," said Hubert one day to Bede, 
 who welcomed a new firmness of tone, " I'm 
 happy."
 
 L'HOMME JOYEUX 147 
 
 "You're getting better," said Bede ; "I con- 
 gratulate you, Hubert." 
 
 " Better ? " he asked vacantly. 
 
 They .had allowed his hair to grow long, and 
 he looked like a musician. They often gave him 
 his guitar, and he sang himself to sanity. 
 
 " How did you feel those weeks ? " asked 
 Bede. 
 
 " What weeks ? " 
 
 " The weeks you've been ill." 
 
 Hubert looked surprised. 
 
 " You think I've been ill. I'm like a diver who 
 has seen all the sunk jewelry of the sea ! " 
 
 "Well, what have you brought up?" asked 
 Bede, smiling. 
 
 " Eh ! " said Hubert with a knowing leer, " gay 
 pearls and strange fish." 
 
 He seemed, meantime, content, and another 
 week was let pass. 
 
 "How is he?" asked Violet with quickened 
 breathing ; " will I see him soon ? " 
 
 " Let him be for another month," he replied. 
 
 "Look!" said Hubert, tapping his head as if 
 he felt new and better sensations. 
 
 The truth was, the attack was passing, but
 
 148 THE DESTROYER 
 
 Bede had no intention of immediately releasing 
 him. Hubert had said one day, with recurrent 
 excitement, due to his consciousness of his sur- 
 roundings, that he would never go back to Rim- 
 mon House. Like all the mentally alienated, he 
 had no distinct consciousness of the period of 
 darkness, but neither could he take up, intelli- 
 gently, the thread of his life where it had been 
 broken. 
 
 " I know what's wrong with me," he said help- 
 lessly, one day. " I remember poor Violet. 
 Where's Violet ? Were there two ? I can't see 
 them. Let me go. . . ." 
 
 Dr. Bede preferred it thus, and communicated 
 with Mrs. Proudfoot. Hubert's release was to 
 be kept secret. In a month's time, perhaps, the 
 old relations might be renewed, and Violet and 
 Hubert would come together again. So he was 
 driven late one night, thirty miles out of Mulvey, 
 to catch a train at Trenton. His removal was 
 kept a profound secret. Dr. Bede accompanied 
 him to Trebovir Road. During the journey he 
 remained silent, but gave a cry of recognition, as 
 he drove up to his door and saw his mother stand- 
 ing on the steps. She controlled herself for the
 
 L'HOMME JOYEUX 149 
 
 sake of her son, and received him as if he had 
 parted from her last week. No reference was 
 made to his illness or his marriage, but she wept 
 over his indifference and the slow dawning of his 
 reason. A man-servant was directed to follow 
 him continually. Hubert knew it, and resented 
 it. Sometimes he reddened as if ashamed, and 
 spoke harshly to his mother. But with the pecul- 
 iar cunning of all disturbed minds, he lay in wait 
 for his opportunity. As they all do, he simulated 
 perfect sanity with extraordinary skill. He ap- 
 peared to be so convalescent that his own money 
 was put into his hands when he asked for it. He 
 read the newest books. He would have driven 
 with his mother, or even ridden in the Park, but 
 that he wished for a time to escape his friends. 
 None of them saw him, for he remained indoors, 
 and no one knew of his apparition. Bede reported 
 progress after each visit. Violet believed him to 
 be still near her, and when she asked Dr. Bede he 
 said he was getting better. The month was 
 nearly at an end, and he hoped to bring him back 
 to Mulvey. 
 
 As we know, it was the year of the Franco- 
 Prussian war. Hubert had been reading the
 
 150 THE DESTROYER 
 
 papers, and the stir had excited him. Paris 
 seemed like a huge electric battery drawing him 
 by unseen coils. Suddenly one day he disap- 
 peared. He had been long planning his escape. 
 Search was made all over London, but in vain. 
 Mrs. Proudfoot, amazed and stricken, telegraphed 
 to Bede, who immediately came to town. She 
 thought he might be at Mulvey. Bede tele- 
 graphed to Violet, and when the reply came that 
 he wasn't, the excitement of both families became 
 intense. In an hour all Mulvey knew the rumor. 
 Three days passed, and no news came. Violet 
 hurried to London, and Dr. Bede had at last to 
 tell her the truth, and bear the bitterness of her 
 upbraiding. Rumor came that an Englishman 
 had jumped from the steamer that sailed between 
 Reggio and Messina. They immediately con- 
 cluded it was he. 
 
 " It is Hubert ! " cried Violet, almost beside 
 herself ; " he would be going to see Besser, as he 
 always wished to, and Besser's in Sicily, not come 
 home yet." 
 
 Sir Saul, secretly hoping it might be true, 
 caused inquiries to be made, and the description 
 first furnished of the unknown traveler seemed
 
 L'HOMME JOYEUX 151 
 
 to answer to Hubert's. Mrs. Proudfoot, Lady 
 Rimmon, and Violet put on mourning, and the 
 long empty space in Violet's journal indicates the 
 passing of empty days. But, to cause the bewil- 
 derment of them all, other news came that it was 
 not Hubert who had been drowned, but an Eng- 
 lishman named Arthur, for whom letters were 
 waiting at Messina. The three frantic women put 
 their black dresses into their wardrobes again ; the 
 stonecutter, who had chiseled Euxine's epitaph, 
 was arrested in his design of a memorial tablet 
 for Hubert, and Sir Saul deplored that the truth 
 was not what he had wished it to be. Violet, 
 stunned, remained in her room, waiting events. 
 Hubert, then, had found his way to Paris by the 
 Lyons route, drawn thither, partly through his 
 old love of wandering, and partly through his 
 desire to see the great city's confusion. He 
 offered himself as one of the National Guard, but 
 was put aside as a harmless, mad Englishman. 
 He loved France. The sound of war, the crowds, 
 even the danger and dramatic feeling of the time, 
 suited his perturbed mood. At first he kept him- 
 self well in check. He spoke French, like Besser, 
 with very little accent, because he had learned it
 
 152 THE DESTROYER 
 
 when he was a child. He wandered about the 
 city. Like a sleuth-hound he traced vice to its 
 centers, and visited old scenes to pronounce his 
 curse on them. He transformed himself into a 
 sort of maniacal reformer, and was among the 
 first to join in the cry " A has les lupanars ! " 
 But it was a curious sight, and he was himself 
 hardly conscious of its irony or pathetic ludicrous- 
 ness. He was making wild efforts the night Bes- 
 ser stumbled on him. The crowds who used to 
 follow him from place to place where he laid siege 
 had given him a sobriquet, and called him, " Le 
 J/sus Anglais." " Out/ " he replied, accepting 
 it. " Je suis le Jtsus Anglais. Eh bien, mes 
 freres. A has ces mauvaises maisons, sil vous 
 plait! Elles de"truisent vos beaux corps, chers 
 gardens. Allans ! " Roars of French laughter 
 used to follow these speeches, but sometimes the 
 crowd caught their deeper meaning. 
 
 When, at length, he recognized Edgar that 
 night, Hubert almost fainted. The two men 
 shook hands, and pushed their way through the 
 bleared multitude into quieter streets. They 
 went forward, unable to speak, till at last Besser 
 asked him where he was living.
 
 L'HOMME JOYEUX 153 
 
 " O Edgar," said Hubert, " how strange ! 
 What has not happened since we parted ? Where 
 was it ? " 
 
 " At Oxford." 
 
 " I'm never going back to England ! " 
 
 " Yes, yes," said Besser, " you'll come back 
 with me." 
 
 " You know I was married to Violet Rimmon ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Besser. 
 
 " I could never see her again, you know." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " There was a great blank. I'll tell you again." 
 
 " We'll give them a surprise, Hubert," said 
 Besser, nudging him. " You'll come and live 
 with me, and we'll go over some morning and 
 take them unawares." 
 
 "Oh, never!" exclaimed Hubert. "It was 
 awful, and I'm ashamed ! " 
 
 They had arrived at Besser's hotel, and Prahl, 
 who had been following, came in shortly be- 
 hind. 
 
 " Will you not rather stay here ? " asked 
 Besser doubtfully, and observing the old perpetual 
 strange inquiry in Hubert's eyes which now flick- 
 ered unsteadily.
 
 154 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " Oh yes, I would like to," he replied. " I'll 
 do anything to be with you, Ed." 
 
 " I'll send my man for your things." 
 
 " Here's money for the bill," said Hubert, 
 handing three hundred francs to Prahl. 
 
 " You're better, Hubert ? " 
 
 Hubert nodded, but Besser was not quite sure 
 of him. 
 
 " D'you know," said Hubert quickly, " this 
 war is a huge joke. They're just trying to get it 
 up to frighten me. They fill the papers with it, 
 and it's just a pretense and a cowardly attempt 
 to frighten me" 
 
 " No, no, Hubert, we're going away." 
 
 " Away ! Where are you going ? " 
 
 " Home, and you'll come with me, you know. 
 Back to Violet and Mulvey. It'll be all right." 
 
 "Never!" exclaimed Hubert; "my work's 
 here & bas ! " 
 
 " It's all right, Hubert," said Besser, quietening 
 him. 
 
 " It's a conspiracy to take me away. Oh, I 
 won't, you know ! " replied Hubert angrily. 
 
 " Yes, yes. D'you not know me ? I'm Edgar." 
 
 " Yes, you're Edgar of long ago."
 
 L'HOMME JOYEUX 155 
 
 When Prahl came back, Besser told him that 
 they must escape next day. They would have to 
 take Hubert away by force, and he explained to 
 Prahl most that had happened, and who Hubert 
 was. Besser thought to take him home, get him 
 in unobserved to his own house, and make every- 
 thing right again in a few days. He had sent 
 instructions to Ruth Profeit, who was a poor rela- 
 tive of his mother, to make final preparations for 
 his return. But now that he had stumbled on 
 Hubert he did not give the exact day of his arrival, 
 for he wished to avoid publicity. Meantime, 
 Hubert was to be Prahl's special charge, and 
 Prahl took an oath of secrecy. 
 
 " Crickie ! " said Prahl, as he ran out to obtain 
 pass lines, " I'm to be keeper of a mad gent, am 
 I?" 
 
 Next day Besser saw that the sooner he left 
 with Hubert the better. He was becoming more 
 difficult to manage and persuade. But at last 
 Besser humored him with some success, and said 
 they were merely going into the country. They 
 took his baggage away, and in a few hours they 
 had left Paris behind, and were on their road to 
 Marseilles. Luckily, Hubert had fallen into a
 
 156 THE DESTROYER 
 
 state of depression and sleep, and seemed una- 
 ware of his surroundings. They were in London 
 in a week, but without Prahl's help Besser could 
 hardly have brought the journey to so successful 
 an end. At first he thought it right to go to 
 Mrs. Proudfoot, and leave Hubert at Trebovir 
 Road. He sent Prahl to make inquiries, but 
 Mrs. Proudfoot was not at home, and the house 
 was shut up. There was nothing for it but to 
 take him to Mulvey, but he determined to arrive 
 at night. Hubert seemed resigned. 
 
 " Edgar," he said, " you're right. I'm happy. 
 I've a thought. I'm the horn me joyeux ! I was 
 shocked and ashamed. Now I know my duty. 
 It is this you'll marry Violet. Oh yes ! I'll free 
 her. I'm unworthy. I'll look at her only once 
 to say, ' I make you free,' and then I'll go away." 
 
 " Don't talk nonsense, old chap," said Besser, 
 who noticed the strange alteration of Hubert's 
 moods. " You're all right. We'll give them a 
 surprise ! " 
 
 " Yes," said Hubert, breathing more quickly, 
 " a surprise ! " 
 
 They traveled in the same compartment from
 
 L'HOMME JOYEUX 157 
 
 London, while Prahl was alone in a second-class 
 carriage. They were to dismount at Trenton, 
 about ten at night, and then drive to Mulvey. It 
 was moonlight, and Besser looked out of the 
 windows of the train on the familiar landscape 
 which he had not seen for four years. Hubert 
 was sleeping, and he did not disturb him. He 
 kept thinking how he was going to break the 
 news to Violet. Surely it was going to be one of 
 the great services of his life. He had rescued 
 Hubert. He knew all that had happened since 
 he had seen Violet, but Hubert had made only 
 vague mention of it. Besser knew that Violet 
 would feel grateful to him forever. Thanks to 
 his renunciation of the monastic life he was able 
 to do a thing like this. It was not with repulsion 
 that he had seen Hubert again. Really, there is 
 inexplicable fascination about the dissolute before 
 they have been finally ruined. They have their 
 dooms on them. They have the look as if they 
 have been sitting in strange places, where the pale- 
 ness of their delusion came over them. They have 
 touched beauty and it has withered. They know 
 empty cups. They played long with Error till it 
 tossed them on its horns ! And they know that
 
 158 THE DESTROYER 
 
 there is nothing so ludicrous in the whole physi- 
 ology of love in its decay as the limp touch 
 which simulates ecstasy. On these things Besser 
 pondered as he looked at Hubert. It was ful- 
 filled prophecy. And yet Hubert was now more 
 pitiable still after all that fatigue of sin. It was 
 tragic, but there were worse tragedies. His was 
 still the inner delicacy of feeling made pathetic 
 in its ruin and inversion. A late come reformer! 
 It is strange that the finest organism is most in 
 danger, struck and shifted by every wind. I 
 know, thought Besser, as he looked at Hubert's 
 pale, stretched form, beauty is a scourge, and he 
 has been whipped. We said it long ago. But so 
 also suffered St. Francis, and just because he 
 knew sensuous things, and partook their stain, is 
 he lovable. Nay, half his later " Folly of the 
 Cross " came from his sensuousness. The abbot 
 and I used to have long talks about this. Who 
 would have thought him a possible saint in the 
 midst of his orgies ? He must have been as re- 
 pulsive as poor Hubert. Had he, too, this soft 
 sourire of delusion ? Moral immobility is not 
 sainthood. Saint, I must know your dreams ! 
 Meantime, in another part of the train, Prahl
 
 L'HOMME JOYEUX 159 
 
 sat turning his fortunes over in his mind. " A 
 pair of strange pals ! " he thought as he considered 
 Besser's and Proudfoot's conduct during the past 
 few days. He could not understand why Besser 
 had saddled himself with a madcap like Hubert. 
 He wondered for what exact purpose Besser 
 had made him swear secrecy. Doubtless, 
 thought Prahl, he's going to have jinks with the 
 wife. " Given up the priesthood," exclaimed 
 Prahl, as he hurried to his conclusion, " ha ! ha ! 
 He's going to have jinks with the idiot's girl ! 
 Here's a shine ! " As he ruminated thus, the train 
 stopped at a station about forty miles from 
 London. A dark-eyed girl, with her hair falling 
 on her brow beneath her hat, which was set with 
 poppies and corn-flowers, came up to the window, 
 and took the handle of the door as if she wished 
 to enter. It was Miriam, who had been on an 
 errand for Sir Saul, and was now returning. 
 When she saw that Prahl was alone she withdrew, 
 obeying a curious instinct seen every day on the 
 railways. Prahl rose, pulled down the window, 
 opened the door, and lifted his hat. Miriam had 
 turned, but she turned again and saw him. The 
 guard's whistle sounded, and the train was begin-
 
 l6o THE DESTROYER 
 
 ning to move. The other carriages seemed full, 
 and she stepped forward again towards Prahl's. 
 
 " Jump ! " he said, "you'll be late." 
 
 Miriam sprang on the footboard, and Prahl 
 caught her up by the waist, and pulled her in. 
 
 " That was a narrow shave ! " said Prahl. " Are 
 you frightened ? " 
 
 " Oh no," said Miriam, panting and smiling, 
 opposite. 
 
 Then she blushed like the poppies, and looked 
 shyly at the stranger. He appeared so like a 
 gentleman with his slim figure dressed in black, 
 smooth cheeks, well-cropped head, and laughing 
 and inquiring eyes, that she addressed him with 
 a shy " Yes, sir, if you please," when he asked a 
 question. They both smiled, which made things 
 pleasant for a start. The carriage was dimly lit, 
 but Prahl could detect all Miriam's charm, and 
 the uncertain light of the wick above seemed to 
 add to her witchery. He noticed that her head 
 had a tendency to be poised upwards. He thought 
 it was to show her neck but whether or not, he 
 agreed that every face looks best at that pose. 
 
 " Where are you going, my pretty maid ? " he 
 asked playfully ? for he knew that form of address.
 
 L'HOMME JOYEUX 161 
 
 " To Mulvey, sir," she said. 
 
 " Mulvey ! So am I. That's jolly ! " 
 
 The train stopped at another station, and Prahl 
 rose with a frown. Miriam knew why he was 
 frowning. 
 
 " Oh, this is not Mulvey ! " she said. 
 
 " No, but I've to get out at a place called 
 Trenton ; perhaps it's it ? " he asked. 
 
 " Oh ! that's four stations off yet," said Miriam. 
 
 " Ah ! all right." 
 
 His next anxiety was lest any one might enter, 
 and he crowded the window with himself as a 
 make-belief that there was a crush inside. But 
 the train began to move off, and he sank back 
 with a sigh. He looked at Miriam, and they both 
 smiled once more. It was the smile which lingers 
 to do the work of words on such occasions. Ten 
 minutes ago he was cursing the train for its slow- 
 ness and now he was cursing its speed ; although 
 it was unchanged. The muscles of his hands were 
 moving and he was sending his nails into it. 
 Miriam thought she had never seen such a hand- 
 some lad. . . . Cubitt ! 
 
 " Where do you live at Mulvey ? " he asked. 
 
 " Rimmon House." 
 ii
 
 162 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " Ah ! " said Prahl with a start, for he had heard 
 that name. 
 
 " Where are you going to live, sir ? " Miriam 
 ventured. 
 
 " Mulvey House." 
 
 " Oh, that's quite near ! We can see its chim- 
 neys and the red tower." 
 
 " All the better," said Prahl, laughing ; " I'm 
 to be the new butler." 
 
 Miriam's eyes brightened. 
 
 "You're to be the new butler?" she said, 
 surprise heightening her voice. 
 
 " Yes, and keeper of a mad gent. We'll see each 
 other, eh?" he said, rising and settling near her. 
 
 The knowledge that they were on the same 
 social level helped to hurry matters. Miriam 
 made room for him. 
 
 " Isn't it horrid ! " she said, " that we've to travel 
 second?" 
 
 " Yes," said Prahl, " but does it matter when 
 we've it all to ourselves ? " 
 
 " Oh ! " she said, pushing him away. 
 
 " We know each other already, eh ? " 
 
 " Mr. Besser's not home yet, but the house is 
 ready. They've got in two cows and some horses
 
 L'HOMME JOYEUX 163 
 
 just to make a start with their home farm. He's 
 been such a time away ! " said Miriam. 
 
 " We'll see each other often," urged Prahl. 
 
 "Why are you going out at Trenton?" 
 
 " To look after something." 
 
 " Trenton's thirty miles from Mulvey," she 
 said. 
 
 " Yes. Isn't it beastly I've to go out ? " 
 
 "Ye es," she said, smiling. 
 
 " It's always the way." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "You've had experience?" 
 
 She laughed and pushed him away. 
 
 " It's a pity winter's coming on," he said ; 
 " there'll be nothing to do outside." 
 
 " Oh, there's plenty to do in the big flower- 
 houses ! " 
 
 " Is that where you're to be found? " 
 
 " Yes, often." 
 
 " Will you tell me your name? " 
 
 " Miriam Dagon," she said. 
 
 " Mine's Prahl ! " 
 
 "Prahl?" 
 
 "Yes. It's a German name. Heinrich Prahl ! 
 Call me Heinrich if you like."
 
 164 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " Hein rich ! " repeated Miriam. 
 
 " My mother was English, but she wasn't so 
 good-looking as you. There, now ! " 
 
 " Oh ! " she said, " is that the way foreign gen- 
 tlemen go on? " 
 
 " Now give me your hand," said Prahl, rising. 
 " This is Trenton, I suppose, and we'll say ' Good- 
 night ' before the train stops." 
 
 " Good-night ! " 
 
 He bent down but caught himself awkwardly 
 half-way. It was only postponed. He lingered 
 at the door outside. 
 
 " Prahl ! Prahl ! " Besser was calling.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 PERTURBATION 
 
 THERE had been an anxious night with Hubert. 
 
 " Edgar," he said, the moment he entered Mul- 
 vey, and in contradiction of what he had said 
 previously, " / will not see her. I refuse ! " 
 
 " You'll see her to-morrow, old chap. You're 
 all right." 
 
 " No ! " he said ; " it's cruel of you to have 
 brought me here. I meant to stay away, and 
 then free her forever. It's iniquitous what she'll 
 suffer!" 
 
 " She's suffering because she thinks you're lost, 
 Hubert." 
 
 " Yes, I'm lost ! " 
 
 " Not to her." 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Hubert, " I never felt like this 
 before. I wish I were a child again at my 
 mother's knee." 
 
 "Hubert!" 
 
 '65
 
 l66 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " Yes, Ned, why should all the bad things have 
 come running to me like beetles ? / never wanted 
 them." 
 
 " Hubert, get to bed ! You're ill and tired 
 with the journey." 
 
 " Do 7 sleep at night ? " 
 
 " Hubert ! " exclaimed Besser again, agitated 
 and wondering for the future. 
 
 " Let me climb the tower to see the lights at 
 her window. You can see their house, can't you, 
 over the trees?" 
 
 " Yes, but you mustn't to-night." 
 
 " I will ! She may not be in bed," and he ran 
 out of the library. 
 
 " Prahl ! Prahl ! " he called, " where's the door 
 for the tower? Come, Prahl ! " 
 
 " Devil if / know ! " said Prahl, sauntering from 
 the butler's pantry. 
 
 " If you wish, then," said Besser, dismayed. 
 " Bring a light ; here's the door." 
 
 Ruth Profeit, the housekeeper, a woman about 
 forty, with a pleasant, homely face and brown 
 eyes, came with a lantern. 
 
 " The stairs are dirty, Mr. Edgar," she said. 
 " They haven't had a drop of water for years."
 
 PERTURBATION 167 
 
 " It doesn't matter," said Besser, and they 
 began to ascend. 
 
 Besser went first with the light, then Hubert, 
 then Prahl, up the winding stair. 
 
 "Your tower's as tall as Bologna's," said 
 Hubert, fatigued half-way. 
 
 Besser stopped for him, and held the light 
 against the wall, where a broad black stroke was 
 painted. 
 
 " This is half-way. That's the mark I painted 
 years ago," said Besser, " to mark the first hun- 
 dred and fifty steps. There's another hundred 
 and fifty. I remember counting them when I 
 was quite young." 
 
 " It's hot," said Hubert. 
 
 " What the devil are we climbing a tower at 
 midnight for, after a journey ? This is the tower 
 that Miriam sees," thought Prahl. 
 
 They began to ascend again, and were soon 
 at the top. It was a cool night, and the moon 
 was at three-quarters, cloud-bound. The para- 
 pet formed a circular stone balcony, solidly 
 built. 
 
 "The stars!" said Hubert. "Ah, there! 
 there's her window lit ! She's not in bed ! "
 
 l68 THE DESTROYER 
 
 Mulvey lay below them, silent and dark, un- 
 protected on the flat plain by any hill. 
 
 " ' Cared for till cockcrow,' " said Besser. 
 
 They heard the carriage which had brought 
 them moving along the main road. 
 
 " That's her window in the eastern gable," mur- 
 mured Hubert again. " How dark the other 
 windows are ! How strange ! " 
 
 " That's Miriam's window. How strange ! " 
 mocked Prahl inwardly. " It's the maids that 
 have to sit up o' nights not the dames." 
 
 Prahl held the lantern now, and it cast a full 
 light on the parapet. He held it in Hubert's 
 face, and Hubert started back. 
 
 " Beg pardon, sir," said Prahl. " We're rum 
 night watchmen ! " 
 
 Not a wind stirred, and the tower seemed to 
 rise out of the foundations of the immobile night. 
 Besser stood looking eastward, with his hand on 
 Hubert. 
 
 " Let's go down," he said. 
 
 " No, let me sleep here," said Hubert ; " it's 
 warm. I'll make my bed on the tower in sight of 
 her window." 
 
 Besser motioned to Prahl, and they took hold
 
 PERTURBATION 169 
 
 of him. " Violet ! Violet ! " he cried, " they're 
 keeping me from you ! . . . " 
 
 He shook himself off from them, and ran to the 
 other side of the tower. Then he saw The Gates, 
 lit, too, and lying massive and still on the out- 
 skirts of Mulvey. He recognized The Gates. 
 
 " Let me away ! " he cried. " Edgar, it's a 
 monstrous place ! " 
 
 Prahl ran one way, Besser the other. 
 
 Oh oh " 
 
 His voice died, echoless, and they took hold of 
 him, and brought him down docile, step by step. 
 Besser locked the top door, but left the key on 
 the inside. Hubert hurried to bed, and he got 
 more sleep than Besser. 
 
 Next morning Prahl thought that that first 
 night's labor was compensated when Besser gave 
 him a letter for the House of Rimmon. The hop- 
 pickers were busy as he passed through the green 
 lanes. The lanes were still green because Sum- 
 mer was not yet shaken on her throne. Yet the 
 bags of hops carried in carts, or as huge burdens 
 on the back, the smell of October brewings and 
 the show of last season's vats and mash tuns, 
 wisps of hay and barley, and ears of corn dropped
 
 I/O THE DESTROYER 
 
 from the wains on the roadside, gray light instead 
 of the blush light of June, and the birds grown 
 stubborn and miserly in their singing all this 
 meant that her kingdom was withering. Another 
 hand was busy on the scored palimpsest of the 
 soil. But roses and clematis, and other wild 
 heliotropes were still snug at their roots, sitting 
 isolated in the warm earth, with a sort of uncon- 
 scious egoism, as if they would never fold their 
 petals and go. For it was not cold ; it was not 
 autumn. It was a sort of Indian summer, rare at 
 Mulvey. And yet the atmosphere had the nega- 
 tive flavor, mildly piquant of chrysanthemums, 
 which is like a delicate minor in the hush music 
 of flowers. The hop clover was withering to light 
 brown. The barley was lying in the cisterns, the 
 malt mill and mashing machines were ready, and 
 the mash tuns awaited the malt. Sir Saul Rim- 
 mon had a small system of his own, and his men 
 were busy. Isaac had brewed at Rimmon House 
 for twenty years and more, and he might have 
 been likened to a priest of Isis who taught brew- 
 ing so long ago in Egypt ! His was the best 
 brew in all Mulvey. He was turning, with a 
 wooden shovel, the barley heap or couch, as it is
 
 PERTURBATION I /I 
 
 called, when Prahl came up. Cubitt was passing 
 to and fro from the kiln where the grain was to 
 be dried. He was now standing near Isaac with 
 his knuckles on his haunches. There was a 
 musty, half-bitter flavor in the air, and from an 
 adjoining building came the sound of a mashing 
 machine. Isaac, bending over his work, did not 
 hear Prahl addressing him, and did not see him. 
 Cubitt saw and heard, but stood surveying him 
 in the slow manner of peasants. The slim Prahl, 
 with dark, quick eyes, was bearer of a letter to 
 Violet. It was addressed " Mrs. Proudfoot." He 
 had come on purpose a roundabout way to Rim- 
 mon House, for he wished to pass through the 
 home farm. He was pleased with his first im- 
 pressions of Mulvey, and amazed at the old splen- 
 dor of Mulvey House. His chief disappointment 
 consisted in the fact that he was " keeper of a 
 mad gent." But he was told that it would not 
 be for long, and although he had let a word slip 
 last night to Miriam, he determined, since doubt- 
 less it would be to his own profit, to keep 
 silence. 
 
 " Look here," said Prahl, nodding to Cubitt, 
 and speaking loudly to make himself heard above
 
 1/2 THE DESTROYER 
 
 the noise of the mashing machine, " this is Rim- 
 mon House? " 
 
 Cubitt nodded without saying anything. 
 Isaac stopped work, and lifted his bent back with 
 a groan. 
 
 " Good-mornin', sir ! " 
 
 " Good-morning," said Prahl. " What's the 
 soonest way to the big house?" 
 
 "Along by the hops where the wenches are 
 pullin'." Prahl thanked them and left. 
 
 " Who's that ? " asked Isaac. 
 
 " It'll be the new man at Mulvey House," said 
 Cubitt, walking back to the kiln, while Isaac be- 
 gan to shovel the couch again. 
 
 Prahl took the road that led to the hopfield, 
 and he thought he espied Miriam among the 
 pickers. Mother Dagon was picking beside her, 
 and a basket was between them. Other pickers 
 were scattered over the field. Miriam's head 
 was bare, while Mother Dagon wore a sum- 
 mer hat of yellow straw with a broad front. 
 Miriam was in a blue gown. Prahl jumped the 
 paling. 
 
 " Who's this?" said Mother Dagon. 
 
 " Oh, it's the new butler at Mr. Besser's. We
 
 PERTURBATION 1/3 
 
 came in the train together last night," said 
 Miriam, blushing. 
 
 Prahl came up and lifted his hat. 
 
 " This is my mother," said Miriam, smiling ; 
 " you're early afoot ! " 
 
 " Yes," said Prahl, shaking hands, " I've to go 
 to the house." 
 
 " With a letter from Mr. Edgar maybe ? " sug- 
 gested Mother Dagon. " It's a time since he's 
 been here. A fortune could have been made in 
 that time ! " 
 
 Prahl eyed Miriam, who was breaking a catkin, 
 and rubbing it between her fingers to get the 
 aromatic scent, till her hand was yellow with the 
 powder. 
 
 "You've a fine country here," said he. 
 
 " If it weren't for the hop flies," said Mother 
 Dagon. " Look ye, there's one ; she's lost her 
 wings." 
 
 She seized a green fly with long legs and a 
 black head. 
 
 " A fine country !" she repeated, " were't not 
 for hop flies and the fates o* our betters." 
 
 " They lose their wings in June," said Miriam, 
 looking at Prahl ; " it's so funny ! "
 
 1/4 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " How are you f " said Prahl in an under- 
 tone. 
 
 She pulled a fiber off one of the old stems, and 
 wound it round her fingers. 
 
 "They're tough, eh ? " said Prahl. 
 
 "Yes," said Miriam, "we make cords and 
 strings out of them." 
 
 " How's Mr. Edgar ? we always called him 
 that," continued Mother Dagon. " How's he 
 pleased with the way the house is gotten ready ? " 
 
 " All right," said Prahl. 
 
 " Ruth's a clever woman." 
 
 Mother Dagon moved to the next hop, and 
 kept talking as she picked. 
 
 " How did Mr. Edgar pick you up? " she asked. 
 
 " Oh, just like a hop ! " said Prahl, smiling. 
 
 " Be in the flower-houses this afternoon ? " he 
 whispered. 
 
 " Yes," said Miriam, as she pretended to bite 
 a hop. 
 
 " I'll have to be going," said Prahl aloud, and 
 he lifted his hat to both. 
 
 Miriam watched him leap the paling again, and 
 she pulled hops mechanically for an hour, answer- 
 ing at random all her mother's questions.
 
 PERTURBATION 1/5 
 
 " That's a good-lookin' butler," said Mother 
 Dagon. 
 
 " He's awful polite and kindly like," said 
 Miriam. 
 
 Meantime Prahl had found his way to Rimmon 
 House. He asked to see Mrs. Proudfoot, and was 
 admitted to the vast hall. Lady Rimmon, whose 
 cheek was still fresh although her hair was gray, 
 came to see him. She wore a black morning- 
 gown without any ornament, and appeared to be 
 in mourning. 
 
 " What is it ? " she asked. 
 
 " I am to give this to Mrs. Proudfoot." 
 
 " I'll take it," said Lady Rimmon. 
 
 " I was to give it to herself, and wait an 
 answer." 
 
 " From whom is it?" 
 
 " Mr. Besser." 
 
 " Oh, he's home ! Just wait," said Lady Rim- 
 mon as she went into a room, and rang a bell. 
 
 Prahl thought Rimmon House the most silent 
 mansion he had ever seen. The roofs were ap- 
 parently not so high as at Mulvey House, but the 
 rooms and corridors were longer. The hall win- 
 dows were of stained glass, three on each side of
 
 1 76 THE DESTROYER 
 
 the door, and each consisting of a panel with a 
 medieval knight in armor. The walls were cov- 
 ered with old weapons especially guns and pol- 
 ished shields. Prahl was taken into a morning- 
 room, paneled in oak with a lily and rose design. 
 In a few moments Violet came in, dressed, like 
 her mother, in black. Her eyes seemed to suffer 
 from the light, and she told Prahl to pull down the 
 blinds. He was struck by her demeanor and her 
 beauty. But he was struck by something else. 
 " Crickie! " he thought, "what a resemblance ! " 
 Violet was utterly pale, and looked as if she had 
 passed months in a sort of waking dream. She 
 spoke with a slight tremor in her voice. 
 
 " This is a letter, madam," said Prahl, and 
 handed it. 
 
 It ran thus : 
 
 " Could I see you this afternoon at three ? I returned last 
 night. EDGAR BESSER." 
 
 Violet went to a side-table and wrote a card. 
 He was to come at three o'clock. 
 
 " Yes, madam," said Prahl. 
 
 He took the direct road back, because Besser 
 was waiting on him ; but he would have liked to 
 pass through the hop-fields again to have another
 
 PERTURBATION 177 
 
 look at Miriam. She was twice as interesting to 
 him now. He knew, however, that Besser was 
 waiting for him, so he made straight for Mulvey 
 House. 
 
 Meantime Besser was busy with his fatal guest. 
 He had sworn to do his duty by him, and the 
 cousinship helped him to do it. 
 
 " Are you sure," he asked, " that you don't 
 know where Aunt Proudfoot is?" 
 
 "Would I tell you lies, Ed?" asked Hubert. 
 " She's likely looking for me." 
 
 " Where ? We could easily find out. She must 
 have left an address." 
 
 "How do I know? She's in Egypt, perhaps, 
 or anywhere else." 
 
 " We'll find out." 
 
 " Oh no ! " 
 
 " Why ? " 
 
 " Because I don't wish to see any of them ; 
 you've brought me too soon. If you leave me 
 alone I'll try and think it all out and get recon- 
 ciled ! " 
 
 " You're feeling better?" 
 
 " Yes ; but, Ed, I can't see Violet ! " 
 
 " Why do you change your opinion so often ? 
 12
 
 1/8 THE DESTROYER 
 
 Last night you said we were keeping you from 
 her, Hubert ! " 
 
 " Oh, Ed, if you only felt how I feel ! When- 
 ever I say that I want to see her dorit believe me ! " 
 said Hubert, emphasizing every word of the last 
 sentence. 
 
 "What am I to say? Really, Hubert, this is 
 awful ! " 
 
 " Say I'm dead ! " said Hubert, with a strange 
 look. 
 
 Besser seemed now taller than his cousin. 
 Hubert was shrinking in bulk, but the animation 
 of his face made him appear to be in health. 
 
 " I'm in a peculiar predicament ! " exclaimed 
 Besser. 
 
 " Ed," said Hubert, " it's awful to feel that you 
 belong to the brutality of things ! " 
 
 " Don't you see that the servants know that 
 you're here ? " said Besser. 
 
 Hubert started. 
 
 " Tell them I'll bribe them ; give them large 
 sums to say nothing ! Please, please ! " he said 
 earnestly. 
 
 " You know the way servants gossip." 
 
 " Oh, bring them, and we'll persuade them."
 
 PERTURBATION 179 
 
 " I'll try," said Besser, " we'll calculate for a 
 week's silence." 
 
 " Swear, then, Ed swear ! " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " That you'll never tell anybody till I ask you." 
 
 " Don't you see you'll be noticed in the 
 grounds?" 
 
 " I'll stay in. It won't be for long. Perhaps 
 I'll face it in a month," he said, holding his head, 
 and looking like a cowed thing before his friend. 
 
 " I swear for your sake," said Besser, perturbed, 
 " but can guarantee nothing. It's the strangest 
 situation ! " 
 
 " Swear on something," persisted Hubert. 
 
 " Here on my old beads," said Besser, taking 
 the string from his pocket. 
 
 " No, no, you don't believe in them ! " exclaimed 
 Hubert. 
 
 " I do," said Besser. 
 
 " Edgar, I'll recompense you." 
 
 " Recompense ! " repeated Besser. 
 
 " Are you going over to see her to-day ? " 
 asked Hubert excitedly. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Oh, I'll watch you from the tower ! "
 
 180 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " Hubert ! " exclaimed Besser, " you must obey 
 Prahl or I'll abandon you." 
 
 " I'll obey Prahl," said Hubert, while Prahl took 
 him to his room. 
 
 As he went over to Rimmon House in the 
 afternoon, Besser wondered what he would find to 
 say. He saw that it was quite impossible for the 
 secret to be long kept. He put little faith in the 
 word of servants. It was too curious a pledge. 
 Doubtless, Hubert's horror of being discovered 
 was perfectly genuine, since it often happened in 
 the case of those who were mentally alienated. 
 But how long might it continue ? And if, by mere 
 accident, the truth came out, and the excitement 
 and alarm of reappearing among his friends ag- 
 gravated his malady, Besser felt that in some way 
 he would be responsible. Hubert suffered, evi- 
 dently, from two great fears. He had a terror of 
 The Gates, and he prayed his cousin to keep him 
 safe ; and he had, besides, a fixed desire, broken 
 now and again by fits of jealousy, to avoid his 
 wife. It was a situation beset by a hundred ac- 
 cidents. Besser wrote to the Abate di Negri asking 
 advice. He also wrote to his aunt's lawyers, and 
 awaited news of her return. Meantime, he went
 
 PERTURBATION l8l 
 
 over to Rimmon House to make inquiries. But at 
 first his difficulties seemed to increase. He saw 
 LadyRimmon, and she told him that they were all 
 persuaded that Hubert was dead. 
 
 "You see we are in mourning," she said, after 
 having expressed surprise at Besser's sudden re- 
 turn. " And although it seems a strange thing 
 to say, it is a mercy ! You know that it would 
 kill Violet to hear that he was alive. She is very 
 ill, but resigned. We had a letter from his 
 wretched mother, who is in Corsica. She thinks 
 she has discovered his grave, in the very wildest 
 parts. The man who was his guide took her 
 to what they think is his grave. It seems he 
 died there quite suddenly. . . . He was fond of 
 Corsica." 
 
 " Really?" said Besser. " These Corsicans 
 are a wild lot. They might say anything, you 
 know, especially if they knew she was looking 
 for her son, and had said that she was ex- 
 pecting to find him dead. I've read lots about 
 them." 
 
 " Oh no," said Lady Rimmon, " it's a Provi- 
 dence ! I knew that his mother would bring home 
 either his corpse or a bit of his grave. . . . You
 
 182 THE DESTROYER 
 
 know I was against it from the first. There is 
 insanity in the whole family." 
 
 " But why do you think it would harm her if 
 she knew he was alive ? " 
 
 " The doctor says so, and that it would harm 
 him, you know. The same thing would happen. 
 Oh, the disgrace, Edgar ! . . . I call you Edgar 
 like long ago. . . . No, it is better so. And yet 
 I tremble for every footstep in the avenue, think- 
 ing it might be Hubert walking up ! Violet is 
 really ill. She doesn't get sleep, although I've 
 made her a pillow of the new hops." 
 
 " Yes," said Besser. " My mother used to make 
 me one. It sends you to sleep." 
 
 " Now, if you see Violet I think she is coming 
 down never mention his name," said Lady 
 Rimmon. 
 
 " What does Sir Saul say ? " asked Besser. 
 " Could I see him ? " 
 
 " You needn't speak to him" said Lady Rimmon, 
 agitated. " I know you liked your cousin, but he 
 hates the name of him. He's preparing for a 
 voyage. He's been angry for months all over 
 Violet. I feel the need of my brother to guide 
 us all "
 
 PERTURBATION 183 
 
 " Ah, I heard ! " said Besser. 
 
 Lady Rimmon lifted her eyes now and again 
 to look at Besser. She questioned him on his 
 abandonment of the priesthood. 
 
 " We were not surprised," she said. " You're 
 too shall I say ? you're too independent." 
 
 " Oh, I thought I was losing myself," said 
 Besser. " That's all." 
 
 She looked closely at him, and noticed how he 
 had developed. She was thinking that if he had 
 given up the priesthood a little earlier the fortunes 
 of the House of Rimmon need not have fallen so 
 low. Besser sat with a concentrated expression 
 as if he had a great deal to think about. " His 
 head," Violet had v/ritten long ago, " is one of 
 those that shine." It was his eyes, of course, 
 that gave that feeling of illumination. He had 
 the glow, too, of perfect health. His features 
 were settling into their final form, but a look of 
 curbed impatience saved their mobility. 
 
 " If he had been as healthy as you ! " exclaimed 
 Lady Rimmon. 
 
 " Oh, I'm all right," said Besser, smiling. 
 
 " I must keep gay, you know, for Violet's sake. 
 Half a year will bring her back again. I some-
 
 1 84 THE DESTROYER 
 
 times try to make her laugh, and poke her with 
 my fan. If her father would only leave her alone. 
 Now, just wait, and I'll see if she would come. I 
 think summer will never end this year, it's so 
 warm," said Lady Rimmon, as she went out of 
 the room. 
 
 During the quarter of an hour that elapsed 
 Besser thought himself the most unenviable being 
 alive. What could he say ? The door opened, 
 and he rose. She came in with a slight smile 
 ' The very first," as her mother said, " I have 
 noticed since May." Besser shook hands, saying 
 nothing, but with a look of inquiry and surprise. 
 Lady Rimmon left them. 
 
 " Four rapid years do make a difference, don't 
 they ? " said Violet, in the quietest voice Besser 
 had ever heard. 
 
 His face was still full of inquiry and surprise, 
 as if looks, not words, were to put all the ques- 
 tions. It was the first time he had felt le frisson 
 tragique de la beauttf. At first they talked common 
 things, and he put scout questions. Yet he 
 wished to be silent. All the common questions 
 were interlaced and divided by great spaces of 
 thought and imagination behind the creaking veil
 
 PERTURBATION 185 
 
 of words. He never knew till then that the mean- 
 ing of years of a life may be discovered in a flash. 
 Some slow feeling of the irreparable, of destinies 
 fixed and unalterable, came offering itself. He 
 wished to know his relation to it. It was perhaps 
 the first time he was brought face to face with a 
 reality. All else was phantasmagoric his past 
 life, the spires of Oxford, Siena and its towers 
 even the long inner trouble of his impassioned 
 nature. Everything seemed mist and unreality. 
 The one moment of perturbing insight which 
 lifted the veil on the future and showed it busy 
 had come. " And this is he," thought Violet, " of 
 whom my book is full ! " He looked at her per- 
 fect Greek features, tranquilized by long grief, and 
 shadowed by the unruly mass of her hair. 
 
 " You are glad to be home ? " she asked, raising 
 her eyes and eyebrows, and leaving her mouth 
 slightly open when the question was finished. 
 
 " Yes and no ! " he said. 
 
 " I always said you would give it up, you know," 
 she continued, in a voice that became fuller in 
 tone. 
 
 " I'm not ashamed. Feeling must get its inn- 
 ings, mustn't it, even though they are to be short ?"
 
 1 86 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " Yes," she said, " that's quite a modern view. 
 I agree with you. Yet some people would think 
 you shallow because you passed rapidly from 
 state to state. I don't. The modern mind is 
 essentially a sieve, and must pass hundreds of 
 things through it. And now ? " 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 " Parliament, of course. That would be good, 
 because now you know all men's sins ! " 
 
 " Well," he said, smiling, " it is true that the 
 most exciting drama in the world is the weird 
 t$te-tt-t$te of a confession." 
 
 " Oh, you speak like that ! I try to write like 
 that," she said. 4< I'm almost afraid of you now, 
 you must know so much about us. I have suf- 
 fered." 
 
 As on the previous day she was utterly 
 pale. 
 
 " I hope you are better," he said. 
 
 " We can speak, can't we ? " she asked. " We 
 are more nearly related than we used to be. I 
 am a sort of cousin to you now." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Though the link's broken. . . . We have 
 every reason to believe that Hubert is dead. . . .
 
 PERTURBATION 187 
 
 We are waiting on my mother-in-law's return," 
 she said, with her voice faltering again. 
 
 Besser shuffled. 
 
 " I admit," she continued, " that Fate has at last 
 been kind. We never could have met again. 
 Never ! It would have killed him, poor boy 
 and me ! " 
 
 Besser asked her how she knew, and she an- 
 swered she knew. He suppressed as well as he 
 could the gesture of his wonder and pain. " It is 
 perfectly monstrous," he thought, " that she is so 
 chained, and does not know it ? " He tried hard 
 to accept and understand this pungency of their 
 destiny. Perhaps they divined each other's 
 thoughts, but he knew what she could not know, 
 and she would guess as yet in vain. One thing 
 he did feel, that his heart's own rue seemed to 
 climb up like a hush midnight burglar unresisted. 
 
 " I'm not so old as you," she said, " but, per- 
 haps, I know more ! " 
 
 " Know more ! " 
 
 The afternoon seemed to have brought to him 
 something utterly new, as yet uncomprehended. 
 He had heard numerous confessions, but it was 
 the first time that a soul seemed to lay itself bare
 
 1 88 THE DESTROYER 
 
 before him, and he was dazed with compas- 
 sion. 
 
 " Hubert is dead, I believe," she said. " It's 
 over." 
 
 " Oh, yes, he is dead," said Besser, with a feel- 
 ing of strange sickness. 
 
 " I didn't know he was dead when I married 
 him." 
 
 " That's what I mean," he said hurriedly. 
 
 He began to feel the strain of the conversation, 
 and he rose. Lady Rimmon was in the hall. 
 
 " I must go," he said. 
 
 " This is Father Confessor," said Violet. 
 
 " You're the first that has made her smile," said 
 Lady Rimmon. " We shall come over to see you 
 soon. I used to promise your mother to look 
 after you."
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE DOPPELGANGER 
 
 AFTER Besser had seen Violet he cautioned 
 Prahl to watch Hubert closely, and he shut him- 
 self in his own room that night. He thought over 
 all that Violet had said, and he wondered whether 
 it was not his duty to announce Hubert's actual 
 presence in Mulvey. After all, was it his busi- 
 ness whether both of them could stand the shock ? 
 Sooner or later the news must spread, and the 
 delay might aggravate its terror. He could not 
 guarantee his servants' fidelity. It seemed ridic- 
 ulous to expect it. He saw that Violet lived in 
 the assurance of Hubert's final release from all 
 suffering, and she said frankly that it was better 
 he was dead. On the other hand, Hubert, 
 throughout a whole variety of moods, seemed to 
 preserve fixed his hesitation and fear of reunion 
 with his wife. If Besser hurried it, he might only 
 
 be hurrying a double catastrophe. Yet the ex- 
 
 189
 
 190 THE DESTROYER 
 
 citement of the delay, heightened as it was by 
 contiguity, might have the same result for Hubert. 
 Indeed, Hubert was under the belief that he 
 would be able to watch from the tower every- 
 thing that Violet did. Besser was troubled by 
 the variety of accidents that might any day occur. 
 He urged Prahl to be faithful, and promised a re- 
 ward. He took him completely into his confi- 
 dence, so that Prahl soon began to dominate the 
 rest of the household, and to hold up the terrors 
 of banishment to any who had even a longing to 
 betray the news that Mr. Hubert Proudfoot was 
 in Mulvey. Prahl had seen many a thing, and 
 entered with something like a detective's enthu- 
 siasm into his master's plan. The comedy would 
 help to enliven Mulvey. His arrogant, though 
 menial, nature soon subdued Hubert, who began 
 to complain that he was afraid of him. At this 
 Besser was pleased, because it meant that Hubert 
 was safe. Yet there was many a danger, and 
 Lady Rimmon's proposed visit was not the least. 
 He put it off, saying that his house was not yet 
 in order, and would not be for a month. After 
 he had seen Violet he had gone privately to Dr. 
 Bede and astonished him with the news. He
 
 THE DOPPELGANGER 19! 
 
 told him that Hubert had refused to see either 
 Violet or him, and that it would be quite impos- 
 sible to pay a visit. Hubert's fear of The Gates 
 formed a strong motive in a desire to escape 
 which often overtook him. Bede said he under- 
 stood it all, and advised absolute silence on the 
 whole matter. It was, in any case, impossible 
 for Violet to see him in the meantime. " Even 
 if," said the doctor, " I had him here, I would 
 never let her know, and from what you tell me 
 about him he has got the horror femince, which 
 sometimes accompanies his trouble. It would be 
 criminal to bring them together. I am sorry. 
 We had been hoping she was free. Her mother 
 is anxious to see her married. You can hardly 
 imagine her suffering, and I doubt I doubt if 
 she will come out of it." 
 
 "What am I to do ?" asked Besser. 
 
 " Keep him quiet. Give me all his symptoms. 
 Doubtless he remembers me. If he gets worse 
 we must take him back, but meantime I will send 
 some one to examine him whom he does not 
 know, and who will do it disguisedly." 
 
 "And they think he is dead!" exclaimed 
 Besser.
 
 192 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " Let them think so. I don't think he will last 
 long in any case, and may die in your hands." 
 
 " That would be awful ! " said Besser. " They 
 would never forgive me." 
 
 " Oh yes, they would, when they know," said 
 Bede. " This will try your metal, and your serv- 
 ants' metal." 
 
 " They ! " exclaimed Besser. " How could I 
 trust them long?" 
 
 " I see nothing for it but to wait," said Bede. 
 " The fact is, I am hoping that somehow Violet 
 might get a divorce." 
 
 " He wishes to release her," said Besser. 
 
 " Does he really ? " asked Bede, surprised. 
 
 " Sometimes only," said Besser. 
 
 " I could give a certificate that he was really 
 insane when he married her. We shall see," re- 
 plied Bede, and shook hands. " That's good ! " 
 
 Besser went home, and the silence of his house 
 was oppressive. He gave orders that no other 
 rooms were to be thrown open, for he had a feel- 
 ing that his stay would be short. The huge 
 dining-room was left dark, and its great curtains 
 swayed in the gloom, when the wind passed 
 through the windows opened for air. But a fire
 
 THE DOPPELGANGER 193 
 
 was lit in the library, and he spent half the day 
 looking through old books. He felt the useless- 
 ness of his possessions. They were irrelevant to 
 his asceticism. They almost seemed impious 
 after his vows. He had often felt ashamed of 
 his wealth when he rubbed shoulders with a poor 
 man. His previous life seemed to have made it 
 superfluous. He would always have a spiritual 
 irritant in his composition which would interfere 
 with his perfect pleasure in the world. He felt 
 there was nothing stable, and that everything 
 was passing. " Great wealth ah ! great vul- 
 garity," he once wrote ; " I have seen poor people 
 look magnificent." 
 
 He thought of Monte Oliveto when he saw his 
 monk's robe and hat lying outside his packing- 
 boxes. Ruth had laid them on the bed. He 
 took them up with a smile. All that night he 
 was trying to banish a thought which came ob- 
 trusively back. A whole multitude of vague 
 feelings and surprises had awakened within him. 
 With some bitterness he said that the situation 
 in which he was placed might afford material for 
 a vulgar novelist. "Think," he said, "of the 
 
 sensational incidents he could discover among us. 
 13
 
 194 THE DESTROYER 
 
 She is over there, I am over here, and she does 
 not know who is with me. Think of what he 
 would make of the runnings back and forwards, 
 the hairbreadth escapes, the intrigue, the mid- 
 night climax, and so forth. Yes, if I were weak 
 They wish us to go wrong ; it is their 
 trade." 
 
 He made a long pause. " If I were weak ! " 
 The cast-off garments of his monkhood seemed 
 to convict him. He had lived more in that 
 single day than he had done in years. It looked 
 like a conspiracy of the Invisible to mock and 
 try him. He had invited it. He had said he 
 knew the power that decimated some men, and 
 wished to fight it. He had sat long at the confes- 
 sion, and had heard the endless old saga of the 
 human soul. The universe had become for him 
 a great liturgy, old miracle play ! He had dried 
 the tears of hundreds unknown. He knew chords 
 and sorrows, but now they were going to bind 
 himself. 
 
 " And it'll be for ' auld land syne,' as the 
 Scotch say," he said, " that I'll put these on." 
 
 He put on his monk's robe, smiling at his 
 " folly." He hung his crucifix above his bed,
 
 THE DOPPELGANGER 195 
 
 and he laid on his table his old " Book of Hours." 
 It looked as if he wished to rediscover the sim- 
 plicity of his monkhood, or it looked like the 
 tuning of weapons for a great fight. 
 
 " Oh ! " he exclaimed, as Hubert came burst- 
 ing in. 
 
 "O Lord! Edgar," said Hubert,"! thought 
 you weren't a monk any more." 
 
 " Neither I am," said Besser. 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 "Well!" 
 
 "Why didn't you come," asked Hubert ex- 
 citedly, " to tell me what Violet said? I've been 
 kept chained like a dog by that brute, Prahl. 
 Edgar, I won't stand it ! How's Violet ?" 
 
 " She's not well," said Besser. 
 
 44 Edgar," said Hubert, looking at him fixedly, 
 " you're quite changed. Something has hap- 
 pened. I know ! I see ! " 
 
 " What do you see ? Quieten yourself, else it 
 will be all the longer till you see her" 
 
 " O God, you're jealous! You you love her, 
 / believe. Here, here, let me see your lips!" 
 cried Hubert in a frenzy of blind passion. 
 
 "What do you mean, Hubert?"
 
 196 THE DESTROYER 
 
 "I mean," said Hubert, "that I know what 
 you are feeling. I see it in your face. You wish 
 me dead ! You've kissed her ! " 
 
 " Kissed her ! " 
 
 " Or wanted to. You're utterly different from 
 what you were in the morning." 
 
 " Hubert, you told me you wanted to give her 
 up and release her." 
 
 " Hear him ! " exclaimed Hubert. 
 
 " Don't misunderstand me. I'm " 
 
 " Oh, I am ill very ill ! " exclaimed Hubert, 
 as he abruptly left the room, while Besser fol- 
 lowed him. 
 
 Prahl complained that he was becoming more 
 unmanageable. It was almost impossible to 
 pacify him that night, till Besser threatened to 
 send for Violet or Dr. Bede. And then he became 
 silent and went sobbing to bed. 
 
 " No, Ed, I dont wish to see her," he urged. 
 
 " Nor I ! " exclaimed Besser, as he went away 
 sick at heart. 
 
 The events of the next few days resembled, as 
 he said, the incidents of a third-rate stage. Prahl, 
 as we know, took every opportunity of seeing 
 Miriam, but as Miriam did not wish him to be
 
 THE DOPPELGANGER 197 
 
 seen at the home farm, it was necessary for her 
 to come over to Mulvey House. Prahl's sharp 
 eyes saw the truth at a glance. He had been 
 making inquiries about Miriam, and dropping 
 hints as to her parentage. As yet he had said 
 nothing to Miriam. Perhaps she knew, because 
 her manner seemed to indicate that she expected 
 better fortunes than what a peasant husband 
 could bring her. But it was just about that time 
 that all Mulvey became roused. A new Dissent- 
 ing preacher called Mabb had been installed, and, 
 as he was a person of intense and sincere convic- 
 tions, he was becoming a thorn in the baronet's 
 side. For he had heard the gossip that had 
 turned old in the women's mouths, and he began 
 to preach on the sins of those in high places. 
 Sir Saul openly expressed contempt for the orator, 
 but it was obvious that he was uneasy. The 
 denunciations became less vague, and the district 
 was being prevailed upon to rouse itself up. 
 Mabb called upon all those who were in the service 
 of sinners to give up their places and seek honest 
 masters. Old Isaac belonged to Mabb's flock, 
 and it seemed as if trouble was brewing. It did 
 not save Sir Saul that Besser was likewise at-
 
 198 THE DESTROYER 
 
 tacked, though on different grounds. Mabb, with 
 apparent reference to the owner of Mulvey House, 
 warned his congregation against " monkish pro- 
 pensities," But it became clear that his main 
 battle was directed against the House of Rimmon. 
 Mother Dagon went seldom to chapel. It was 
 in vain that Lady Rimmon invited the clergyman 
 to dinner. But he visited the home farm, 
 although Mother Dagon was generally fortunate 
 enough to elude him. It was whispered that Sir 
 Saul's prospective voyage was due to these at- 
 tacks. Meantime this turn of events suited 
 Prahl's nimble wits. He guessed that the baronet 
 would be pleased if some one would take Miriam 
 out of sight. 
 
 " D'you know," he said to Miriam, " that you're 
 a Doppelgdnger ? " 
 
 " What's that ? " 
 
 " Oh, it means that you're the double of some 
 other body, that you might pass for her, eh ? " 
 said Prahl, slyly nudging her elbow and smiling. 
 
 " Yes," she said, blushing. 
 
 " You know it ? " 
 
 " Almost everybody does," she replied. 
 
 " There's a row coming on," said Prahl.
 
 THE DOPPELGANGER 199 
 
 " You mean through Mabb?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " My mother is frightened out of her wits. 
 I've had an awful strange time and a funny 
 childhood. I felt there was something wrong 
 long ago, but didn't know what, till I saw people 
 smiling and winking. And that's all they've been 
 doing for years." 
 
 " How does old Isaac treat you ? " asked Prahl. 
 
 " Oh, he sometimes looks hard at me, and once 
 took my face in his great rough hands, and 
 wouldn't let me go. Often he's silent for days, 
 and often puts strange questions when he's blink- 
 ing at the fireside. But he's getting blind. I 
 think my mother'll drown herself. I believe 
 Cubitt knows it, but never says anything. Every- 
 body's frightened to lose his place." 
 
 " Cubitt ! " repeated Prahl in derision. 
 
 " Oh, well, Cubitt ! " said Miriam, smiling ro- 
 guishly ; " he's an honest lad, but " 
 
 Prahl chuckled and drew her to him. 
 
 " Has Sir Saul ever spoken to you ? " he asked. 
 
 " Oh yes, but nothing direct," said Miriam. 
 " I hardly see him now. I used to meet him in 
 the woods. The woods were my nursery."
 
 200 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " Does he know about Cubitt and you ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Miriam, " but he wasn't pleased. 
 It was just when Cubitt and me were babies that 
 we loved each other." 
 
 Her dark eyes shone on Prahl, and meant that 
 it was all different now. 
 
 " Now, Liebchen ? " said he. 
 
 " What's that? " asked Miriam, laughing, " are 
 you calling me names?" 
 
 " It's just a word for dearie," said he. " What 
 does Miss Violet say? " 
 
 " I'm not so like as I used to be," replied 
 Miriam, " and the place is quietening down about 
 it, if it weren't for Mabb. She's ill, poor thing ! 
 and I've always avoided her. Her chap went mad 
 the first night, they say. They put him in 
 The Gates, but he escaped, and they say he's 
 dead " 
 
 Prahl was tempted to betray the great secret, 
 but he resisted. 
 
 " Lady Rimmon's so tarty," said Miriam. 
 
 " Wait," said Prahl, " we'll arrange it all ! " 
 
 They were at the cross-roads, about a mile from 
 Rimmon House, where the stone cross, half cov- 
 ered by velvet of moss, stretches its old arms.
 
 THE DOPPELGANGER 2OI 
 
 They were saying good-by, because it was time 
 to go back. 
 
 " Will you come over ? " said Prahl. 
 
 " What time ? " said she. 
 
 " About six to-night." 
 
 " I might be seen." 
 
 " No ; come in by the south gate, where I'll go 
 among the bushes yonder. It'll be getting dark 
 about six." 
 
 " All right," said Miriam, and let him kiss her. 
 
 She came before six, and he was waiting to 
 receive her in the twilight. Only one person saw 
 them not Besser, who was in his library, but 
 Hubert on the tower. He had bribed Prahl to 
 get the key, and was often on the outlook sur- 
 veying Mulvey. He knew how to conceal him- 
 self below the balustrade if Besser happened to 
 be walking in the garden. He used to stand for 
 hours gazing at the old House of Rimmon, half 
 tempted to shout across to it. Sometimes he saw 
 a slim figure on the lawn, doubtless Violet, and 
 he had a maniacal desire to wave a handkerchief. 
 Sometimes she walked along the terrace of her 
 window, and he used to shed tears on the tower 
 as he saw her come and go. Yet, although he
 
 202 THE DESTROYER 
 
 was brooding over all sorts of projects for meet- 
 ing her, he always shrank back in the end, afraid. 
 Bede pointed out to Besser that whereas a casual 
 onlooker might detect little that was abnormal in 
 Hubert's reasoning, a skilled observer would see 
 that there was one topic on which his brain 
 seemed always to go astray. At the thought of 
 his relationship to Violet he became generally 
 uncontrollable. But he seemed to be waiting for 
 some opportunity, with the unwearied patience 
 of a cat waiting for its prey. He sat on the 
 tower behind the balustrade taking the air, while 
 the sun was streaming into Mulvey, and the 
 smoke of the village was curling up. The land- 
 scape was perfectly still except for the intermit- 
 tent noise of the railway station five miles off. 
 The tower commanded a view of all the gates of 
 Mulvey House. The grounds were not so exten- 
 sive as Sir Saul Rimmon's. There were fewer 
 trees. A serpentine avenue joined the three 
 gates, and the house stood on a high level in the 
 midst. Hubert crept to the south side of the 
 tower, when he heard the click of the gate. He 
 saw Prahl shut it after a girl had come in a girl 
 dressed in black, whom he immediately supposed
 
 THE DOPPELGANGER 203 
 
 to be Violet. Every woman he saw he ex- 
 pected to be Violet. He watched them kiss each 
 other, and then go behind the trees. They 
 emerged again into one of the side paths which 
 ran parallel with the wall. He was sure it was 
 Violet. It was growing dusk, which maddened 
 him the more. What could Violet have to do 
 with Prahl? He strained his eyes in the direc- 
 tion they walked. He was trying, in the con- 
 fusion of his suppressed fury, to discover what it 
 meant. He saw them walk back again along the 
 path. A bell rang Besser's bell and Prahl 
 hastily left Miriam, with gestures, and ran up the 
 south avenue. Hubert hastened down the tower, 
 and ran unobserved out towards Miriam. He 
 surprised her among the trees, and seized her, 
 crying " Violet ! " She shrieked, but he embraced 
 her in tears, asking forgiveness. 
 
 " O oh, Violet, it is you ! " 
 
 " Help! " cried Miriam. 
 
 Their voices were heard in the house, and Besser 
 and Prahl came running down. 
 
 " Good God ! " said Besser, " you've let him 
 escape ! " 
 
 Prahl rushed into the brushwood and struck
 
 204 THE DESTROYER 
 
 him off, releasing Miriam, who had almost been 
 suffocated. 
 
 44 After him ! " cried Besser. 
 
 Hubert was scrambling among the bushes, and 
 making towards the wall as if to climb it and 
 jump. Prahl caught him in time, however, and 
 threw him among the bushes, while he cried 
 " Violet ! Is she not mine ? " 
 
 Then Besser ordered them to return to the 
 house.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 DREAMS 
 
 THE newest anxiety was lest Miriam might 
 reveal what she knew. She had recognized 
 Hubert, and was suffering from the fright. Besser 
 tried to coax her, while Prahl was locking Hubert 
 in and maltreating him. " I knew," thought Bes- 
 ser, " that the whole thing would tumble dowu 
 like a house of cards ! " But he won a promise 
 from Miriam, whose resemblance to Violet sick- 
 ened him. He asked her what she was doing in 
 the garden, and when she told him, he was sur- 
 prised that Prahl had made her acquaintance so 
 soon. She undertook to tell no one what she 
 had seen. He explained the situation frankly. 
 
 " You observe," he said, " that he is not respon- 
 sible. By a most fortunate chance we picked 
 him up in Paris, and we are keeping him till he 
 gets better. But he will not get better unless he 
 
 is kept quiet. I appeal to your sense of honor." 
 
 205
 
 206 THE DESTROYER 
 
 Miriam curtsied and left. Prahl was waiting 
 for her. 
 
 " O Mir," said he, " for any sake say nothing to 
 any one ! It'll cost me my place ! I shouldn't 
 have left that devil and come to you. What was 
 Mr. Besser saying?" 
 
 " He just patted me on the back, and told me 
 to be quiet." 
 
 " All right," said Prahl, " I've given the other 
 one a slapping for touching you ! " 
 
 " What a man ! " exclaimed Mir. " He knew 
 me." 
 
 " What did he do ? " asked Prahl. 
 
 " Oh gracious, he kissed me ! " 
 
 " Kissed you ! I'll ^vhip him." 
 
 " He makes me shudder," said Miriam. " I'll 
 never come over again. Mr. Besser says I 
 mustn't." 
 
 They said good-night at the gate, and Prahl 
 returned to punish Hubert. Besser blamed him 
 for negligence, and seemed to have lost con- 
 fidence. Prahl was crestfallen, and blamed 
 everything on Hubert. In vain Hubert asked 
 forgiveness. The room was high up, and Besser 
 could not hear the altercation.
 
 DREAMS 2O7 
 
 " Take that for touching my girl," said Prahl. 
 
 " Oh ! O Prahl ! I didn't know Violet was 
 yours. Are there two Violets ? " 
 
 Prahl terrified him by menaces. 
 
 "I'll never do it again, Prahl never!" ex- 
 claimed Hubert, taking refuge in his bed, and 
 covering himself with the clothes. " Money ! 
 money ! " 
 
 He promised so much money that at length 
 Prahl desisted, and Hubert lay exhausted in the 
 bed. The episode proved so injurious to him, 
 that next day Bede was sent for. Luckily, 
 Hubert was in a somnolent state, and did not 
 recognize him. Bede said that it was not likely 
 he would give trouble for some time. 
 
 " It will be a blessing if he will die," said Bede. 
 " But as yet his pulse is good. They some- 
 times linger six months and more after this 
 stage." 
 
 "Die?" asked Besser, "what on earth would 
 they say when they know he was here all the 
 time ! Don't you think it should be brought to 
 an end at once ? " 
 
 " No ; it's impossible. We must take care of 
 Violet."
 
 208 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " I've had a letter from my aunt's lawyers say- 
 ing they expect her soon." 
 
 Bede left, encouraging him to hold out a little 
 longer. " Violet will be so grateful to you," he 
 said, " when she knows." 
 
 Besser disguised his own feelings from the 
 doctor, and indeed he disguised also from himself 
 the thought that Hubert's death would not be 
 deplorable. He was far, indeed, from ardently 
 wishing it, but the thought was secretly housed 
 somewhere in his brain. He could not help it. 
 In spite of himself his own perturbation grew. 
 Everything was ripe for that inner sedition which 
 he had suspected and foretold long ago. It was 
 not likely, indeed, that a man of his nature could 
 escape it. It was not enough that he had spent 
 half his fire in religious passion and the flames of 
 words. Even Savonarola and St. Francis, his 
 two saints, had fallen in love. To him it was 
 coming perhaps late, but it was coming. He 
 saw before him some long mortal struggle. Never 
 were the nets and springes better laid. The 
 organization of all the forces and circumstances 
 that may mislead a man was never more perfect. 
 It was, he said, incomparable stuff for a stupid
 
 DREAMS 209 
 
 tragedy. He was perfectly conscious of it, and 
 of the part he was to play. Sometimes he 
 sneered, which was rare to him, but a more seri- 
 ous mood supervened, for the reality of his con- 
 dition was expressed by a physical sign. During 
 successive days he had experienced that peculiar 
 sensation the most unutterable a human being 
 can bear which seems to take its seat about the 
 region of the heart, and up through the chest 
 towards the mouth. Only human beings cause it 
 to each other. It is the sensation which ac- 
 companies the strange beginnings of all love. 
 The loss of other things, wealth, reputation, and 
 the rupture of fortune, brings another of its own 
 kind. This is the very cruellest and refined of 
 all. " Now, now," he said sharply to himself, " I 
 will catch myself in this early root and budding 
 of my folly ! " Or, in plain words, with no dis- 
 guises, he loved Violet. He had never known 
 love before. It was irony that he was to be 
 brought so late so near towards the ways of in- 
 stinct after he had forgotten them. Long years 
 of self-discipline may have been making him, in 
 mockery, easier prey. His moral sensitiveness 
 
 had its physical accompaniment. The long, inner 
 14
 
 210 THE DESTROYER 
 
 oppression of natural feeling and desire was ex- 
 hausting him. He looked closely into himself to 
 discover and exaggerate the shape of his deform- 
 ity. Can a man, he thought, allow sin to pass 
 through his soul as through a witch's sieve, and 
 gather out of it what may be good ? Is there 
 goodness in evil? Nay, how could he have 
 known that beauty sits waiting for all men, 
 making the streets dramatic? 
 
 He pressed hard against the shutting door of 
 his wisdom. " Is it possible," he asked, " that I 
 have something monstrous in me suddenly show- 
 ing itself? Then let me die rather! Let death 
 come down like a portcullis ! " But he felt the 
 persistence of his destiny offering itself, pushing 
 against him, laughing half kindly over him. Un- 
 satisfied love had driven him from the monastery. 
 Yet now his fate was worse than before, because 
 his new-old love was impossible. He never men- 
 tioned to himself her name. He tried to forget 
 her name. He longed to return to Monte Oli- 
 veto, but he received a letter from Abate di Negri 
 encouraging him. " Carissimo figlio" the old 
 man wrote, "presto verrh il giorno di Vittoria / " 
 And after all, he was glad that he had no official
 
 DREAMS 211 
 
 label stuck on his back to keep him right. He 
 had no obligation except his pride, which is one 
 of the good roots of ethics. " I will wait till 
 Hubert can return to her," he said. " As for 
 myself, I will take refuge in mockery of this por- 
 tentous nightmare. It will pass away I will 
 pass away. We are splinters and fragments." 
 
 Unfortunately, since ever he had returned, he 
 had been told in a hundred ways that his duty 
 to her was meanwhile to shield her from the 
 truth. So that during those weeks he seemed to 
 share only a small part of his own real inner life. 
 No one except Maeterlinck, perhaps, could let us 
 see his soul sitting, as it were, apart from him, 
 and watching the scars of his alienation. It was 
 then he began to understand why some men are 
 afraid to become good, in case goodness is hum- 
 drum. Will it give scope for their passion ? He 
 saw all the vigor of iniquity, its daring, its love of 
 hairbreadth escapes, in a life's imminent deadly 
 breach. Here, then, he thought, is an occasion of 
 all sorts of spiritual fencing and drill. 
 
 But when night came and he did sleep, he was 
 helpless in his dreams. He had said : " Saint, 
 what about your dreams ? " He turned from
 
 212 THE DESTROYER 
 
 sleep, afraid, and fled from it like a fugitive. 
 Yet it laid soft, voluptuous hands upon him in 
 mockery of long vigils. " Our dreams," he said, 
 " are the best criticism of our life. They are of 
 vast significance. They are the parody and cari- 
 cature of our error, and the reductio ad absurdum 
 of our vice." Our vice ? In his dreams he had 
 kissed Violet night after night with long, passion- 
 ate kisses. It was a curious way for him to dis- 
 cover that we are double beings, and that the un- 
 conscious plays still so large a part within us, not 
 yet subdued under the politics and parliament of 
 our brain. He felt eager to run to Hubert, and 
 urge him to go away. He was puzzled by the 
 divergent morality of his dreaming and his waking 
 life. He might have known surely that many 
 saints find their dreams as awkward. But he 
 began to wonder which part of his life was more 
 real. 
 
 Mulvey House seemed more still even than the 
 House of Rimmon. Everything was still. Even 
 the mice and rats seemed to have fled on the oc- 
 cupant's return. The great curtains still swayed 
 in the gloom when the autumn wind passed 
 through the open door. Besser had arrested
 
 DREAMS 213 
 
 further preparations. Few carpets were laid. If 
 a door closed the noise echoed through the huge 
 house, and he felt as if he were putting up at an 
 inn on a midnight journey. 
 
 Besser secretly desired Miriam to betray the 
 truth, and so take the burden away, although Dr. 
 Bede said it would be almost criminal. But the 
 strain was too great, and seemed to threaten in- 
 definite duration of itself. One morning Besser, 
 who had so often witnessed the humiliation of 
 others, felt eager to confess to Hubert. He 
 thought that by exaggerating his dream-sins he 
 might bring on the crisis of Hubert's jealousy. 
 The truth was, that he was the victim of the sen- 
 sitiveness of his moral imagination. He merely 
 excited Hubert, and raised new dangers. 
 
 " Hubert," he said, "get well quickly." 
 
 " Why, Ed ? " 
 
 " Oh, it's an unnatural condition. It's per- 
 turbing. I dream about you and Violet every 
 night." 
 
 " You dream about Violet ?" said Hubert, ris- 
 ing in his bed. " What can you dream about ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes. I admit I have no right. It's the 
 excitement."
 
 214 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " No, Edgar, you've no right ; it's monstrous of 
 you ! " 
 
 " Hubert I wish to confess. I kissed her in 
 my dreams once twice ! " 
 
 " O Ed ! Oh, you kissed her ! I told you," 
 cried Hubert, covering himself with the bed- 
 clothes. 
 
 " Only dreaming, Hubert." 
 
 " O God ! it's the same thing. I am lying 
 helpless." 
 
 He refused to speak more, but became uncon- 
 trollable again in his malevolence. 
 
 " Hubert, Hubert, let me explain ! " but it was 
 no use trying to explain. 
 
 A few moments of such conversation seemed 
 to send him off his equilibrium. At the begin- 
 ning he reasoned correctly, but invariably got un- 
 manageable at the close. 
 
 To make matters still worse, Lady Rimmon 
 and Violet called that afternoon at Mulvey 
 House. Besser turned pale when they were an- 
 nounced. 
 
 " Now, doesrit he look wobegone?" said Lady 
 Rimmon as he came in. " You're like the ghost 
 of the house, you know."
 
 DREAMS 215 
 
 " The only haunted house is the human body ! " 
 said Besser with a smile. 
 
 " Yes," said Violet, looking at him. 
 
 " I think we're all in the dumps at Mulvey," 
 said Besser. " It seems dark and chill after the 
 south. I would like to build a temple to the 
 sun." 
 
 It was the first time Violet had gone out since 
 May. Both she and her mother were in deep 
 mourning. Besser knew why, and felt confused. 
 
 " You know," said Lady Rimmon, lowering her 
 voice, " we've had word. The worst is over. 
 Mrs. Proudfoot has found his grave, and she is 
 coming home very soon." 
 
 Besser controlled himself with difficulty. He 
 observed the pardonable satisfaction of Lady 
 Rimmon's tone, and when he looked at Violet 
 she was perfectly still. 
 
 " But," he said, " my aunt might be easily de- 
 ceived. She knows nothing of the language. 
 Those Corsicans are perfect rogues, and might 
 say anything. They may have palmed off any 
 new-made grave on her. It is to be hoped she 
 spoke to our consul. There must be a consul at 
 Ajaccio."
 
 2l6 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " It was in the very wilds of the island," said 
 Lady Rimmon. 
 
 " She saw his guide," said Violet ; " it's quite 
 certain." 
 
 Besser rose under pretense of pulling up a 
 blind. 
 
 " It's getting so soon dark," he said. 
 
 " What a huge room," exclaimed Lady Rim- 
 mon. " I remember your mother used to be 
 proud of her rooms." 
 
 " I'm not opening the house," said Besser. 
 
 " Why ? " 
 
 " Oh, I may not stay," he replied. 
 
 " Now then, you're not going to forsake us so 
 soon ! You need a wife ! " 
 
 " I'll wait till my aunt comes back to see what 
 I'll do." 
 
 Besser knew not to mention Sir Saul's name. 
 Underneath Lady Rimmon's apparent good 
 spirits he detected her trouble. The whole coun- 
 tryside was becoming perturbed by Mabb. It 
 was said that Sir Saul was about to leave on a 
 long voyage. 
 
 Lady Rimmon bravely alluded to Mabb's at- 
 tack on Besser's popery.
 
 DREAMS 217 
 
 " You've been attacked by the new clergyman," 
 she said. 
 
 " Oh yes," said Besser, smiling. 
 
 " Yes," she said, " that's the way to take it. 
 As if people care anything for what he says ! " 
 
 Besser's and Violet's eyes met. He looked at 
 her lips, and he wondered at the curious difference 
 between the morality of an act done, and of the 
 same act dreamt or imagined. He sat trembling 
 in case Hubert might surprise them, for he had not 
 had time to give Prahl warning. It was impos- 
 sible to lock him in, because he invariably opened 
 the windows and shouted. He had come upon 
 Besser suddenly more than once. If Prahl 
 chanced to be absent for an instant he used to 
 come down the stair. While he was speaking to 
 Lady Rimmon, Besser heard a noise on the stair- 
 case and started. 
 
 " Excuse me," he said, and left the room 
 abruptly. 
 
 He saw Hubert on the stair in his dressing- 
 gown. He beckoned him in silent gestures to 
 remain where he was. Hubert stood looking 
 down on him. Besser mounted quickly, making 
 dumb gestures all the way. Both of them spoke
 
 2l8 THE DESTROYER 
 
 the dumb alphabet, and used to use it when they 
 wished no one to overhear their conversation. It 
 had become for Hubert a sign of danger, and 
 whenever Besser began it he knew to reply in the 
 same way. Besser rapidly improvised a conver- 
 sation, and told Hubert that there was some one 
 in the house. 
 
 " Who ? " he asked in the dumb alphabet, 
 placing his hands in the equivalent position. 
 
 Besser hesitated. 
 
 " Who ? " Hubert asked again. 
 
 " Violet ! " answered Besser. 
 
 Hubert made his way up the stair to his room, 
 and Besser came down. But no sooner was he 
 in his room than Hubert stood at the door listen- 
 ing. He came forward and walked along the 
 gallery, stopping to lean over. He tried to dis- 
 obey the impulse that was driving him to take 
 Violet unawares. He heard them come out, and 
 he opened the second door of the tower which 
 communicated with the gallery and ran up. His 
 bribe to Prahl still made him master of the key 
 of the top door. When he arrived at the top he 
 saw them in the avenue. He crouched on the 
 balcony, and looked through the little pillars of
 
 DREAMS 219 
 
 the balustrade. Besser was walking between 
 Lady Rimmon and Violet. Lady Rimmon 
 stopped and looked about the grounds and then 
 up to the tower. Violet and Besser did the same. 
 Hubert saw Violet's face looking up at him, but 
 she could not see him on account of the solid 
 stonework that formed the base of the balustrade. 
 The tears hurried down his cheeks. Then the 
 three walked to the main gate, while Hubert went 
 silently down the tower to his room.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 " Ah, Love ! Somewhat let be ! " FR. THOMPSON. 
 
 PRAHL was watching his master. Events were 
 apparently going to happen as he had foretold, 
 and his shrewd brain grasped the situation on its 
 more obvious and vulgar side. He had been 
 quietly making inquiries in Mulvey, and had found 
 out that Besser and Violet had grown up together, 
 and used to be friends. Ruth Profeit, Besser's 
 housekeeper, remained, indeed, discreetly silent, 
 because her suspicion of Prahl was as strong as 
 her faith in her young master. Whereas the 
 younger servants were afraid of Prahl since he had 
 now Besser's confidence, and seemed to possess a 
 brief authority. Ruth alone among them made 
 him feel that he was an interloper. She furnished 
 him with the least possible information about the 
 inhabitants of Mulvey and their ways. If the 
 conversation ever turned on Rimmon House she 
 
 used to evade his questions by feigning ignorance. 
 220
 
 "AH, LOVE! SOMEWHAT LET BE!" 221 
 
 " Mabb'll be able to say," she said. " He and 
 other new upstarts seem to know all about us 
 here. I'd thank you just to be more careful about 
 our invalid gent, and not bring that Miriam about 
 this house." 
 
 Prahl told her that, not having traveled, she 
 knew nothing of the world, and out of the abun- 
 dance of his superior knowledge he gave hints of 
 future events. 
 
 " D'you suppose," he asked, '* that this can 
 last ? It's a farce ! " 
 
 " It's not mine to say whether it'll last, nor 
 yours neither," said Ruth. " We've to do our 
 work and not meddle." 
 
 " That's a virtuous dame ! " exclaimed Prahl. 
 
 " And I'm not so sure that you're a virtuous 
 gent," said Ruth. 
 
 " Oh, now, Mistress Ruth," said he, " you're 
 not going to tell me that every one in Mulvey's 
 as innocent as you ! " 
 
 " It's not mine to say they're not," said Ruth, 
 " All I care about is that our master's the finest 
 and purest of gents." 
 
 " He is," said Prahl, and turned away. 
 
 He knew that all gaps in his information would
 
 222 THE DESTROYER 
 
 be filled up by Miriam. He had Miriam now so 
 completely enthralled in her love for him that he 
 could count on her obedience. She had said noth- 
 ing to any one about what she knew, for she was 
 aware that if the secret of Hubert's presence in 
 Mulvey leaked out it would mean the loss of his 
 place to Prahl. Likewise, the other servants were 
 kept well in check, and there was no danger that 
 any passer-by might see Hubert in the grounds, 
 because he now lay in bed more or less in a som- 
 nolent state. His power of speech was leaving 
 him, and he was having recourse more and more 
 to the dumb alphabet. But Prahl, measuring his 
 master by himself, believed that Besser's delay in 
 surrendering Hubert was easily explained. He 
 was laughing in his sleeve. He thought it a huge, 
 roundabout English joke. The apparent con- 
 nivance of the doctor only made things brighter 
 and more amusing. He had, moreover, a per- 
 sonal interest in the affair, and might any day 
 turn it to profit. Meantime he watched Besser, 
 and played with Miriam. Miriam's peculiar posi- 
 tion required delicate handling, not, indeed, be- 
 cause she was still Cubitt's nominal lover that 
 was nothing but Prahl had not yet seen Sir Saul,
 
 " AH, LOVE ! SOMEWHAT LET BE ! " 223 
 
 although he had a plan about him. He intended 
 to go straight to him some day and offer to take 
 Miriam out of Mulvey. Doubtless Sir Saul would 
 be too well pleased, and would give her a secret 
 dowry. Indeed, it was precisely what Sir Saul 
 was desiring. Yet Prahl waited, because Cubitt 
 had to be " settled," and, besides, it was conveni- 
 ent to take notes of Mabb's sermons. They 
 would be useful in an interview with Sir Saul. 
 
 Mabb was still perturbing the district. Old 
 Isaac began to be persuaded to go to hear him. 
 When he returned, he rehearsed the vague accu- 
 sations to Mother Dagon, who professed to know 
 nothing about them. Cubitt was doubtless in the 
 mystery, but he remained taciturn, with a peasant's 
 slow penetration of its relations to himself. He 
 ran after Miriam no more. Rather, she came to 
 him with awkward simulation of love. 
 
 "No, no, Mir," said the big-legged lad, "thou 
 art giving me hard ground to plow." 
 
 Miriam could never come to the point of giving 
 him up, although she had told him often he 
 wasn't refined enough. She thought she would 
 write a letter. But the final rupture was caused 
 bv Cubitt himself. He was too inarticulate to
 
 224 THE DESTROYER 
 
 show his indignation in anything except deeds. 
 So an opportunity came when he once saw Prahl 
 near Sir Saul's pond on a winter day. Doubtless, 
 thought he, the German was waiting for Mir. 
 Prahl was dressed in his black suit, while Cubitt's 
 drab-colored clothes were stained by his labor in 
 the fields. 
 
 " Good morning," said Prahl condescendingly. 
 
 " It's a good morning," replied Cubitt, coming 
 down to him at the edge of the pond. " You're 
 waiting for Mir, maybe ?" 
 
 " And what's that to you ? " asked Prahl. 
 
 " Nothing," said Cubitt. 
 
 Without another word he took him by the col- 
 lar, twisted him in the air, and threw him scream- 
 ing into the pond. Prahl went down, and came 
 up shivering to the surface, while Cubitt with his 
 hands on his haunches watched him wade out. 
 He stood imperturbable, with a slight grin at 
 Prahl's ineffectual oaths. 
 
 " Don't know what you say," said Cubitt. 
 
 At that moment Miriam came in sight, and 
 gave a little shrill cry. Prahl's clothes, glossy 
 with the water, were sticking to him, and he 
 stood ludicrous on the bank. When he saw
 
 "AH, LOVE! SOMEWHAT LET BE!" 225 
 
 Miriam, he shouted words of revenge and dis- 
 appeared. Miriam took off the little ring Cubitt 
 had given her and threw it into the pond, and 
 called Cubitt a coarse bully. Cubitt grinned 
 when she said she would get him paid off, and 
 then shouldered his spade, and trudged through 
 the brushwood. 
 
 That incident helped to hurry and complete 
 Prahl's design. It became known all over Mulvey 
 that Cubitt had thrown him into the pond, so 
 that wherever he went he was derided. But he 
 had won Miriam. He asked her if she would like 
 to travel about with him, and she said yes. After 
 all, Mulvey was a poor, stale place for a cosmo- 
 politan. He bethought him to go at once to Sir 
 Saul. But he believed in his luck, and still de- 
 layed. It might not be wise to surrender so 
 suddenly the good berth he had already. And 
 although it was humiliating to be the keeper of a 
 mad gent, it had been thus far profitable. And 
 it might be more profitable still. For instance, 
 if Besser ever became rough on him, and dis- 
 missed him, he could threaten to let the House 
 of Rimmon know all the ongoings of the past few 
 
 months. Indeed, it was not till Hubert had mis- 
 15
 
 226 THE DESTROYER 
 
 taken Miriam for Violet that Prahl saw how use- 
 ful the affair might become to himself. Mean- 
 time, he remained very discreet, and warned his 
 fellow-servants to keep steady. It was not often 
 that he went to see Miriam at the home farm. 
 Cubitt was sure to be there, huge, silent, and for- 
 midable. Besides, Mother Dagon began to be 
 afraid of Prahl, and writhed under his acuteness. 
 He had quizzed her in all sorts of ways. Luckily, 
 Mabb had caught a chill, and was in bed, so that 
 there was a lull in his denunciations. The winter 
 might pass quietly, but no one knew what might 
 happen in spring, although Miriam whispered to 
 her mother that, for one thing, she and Prahl 
 would get wedded and go. 
 
 At Rimmon House they were waiting the arri- 
 val of Mrs. Proudfoot. It was a year since Lady 
 Rimmon had decided to leave Mulvey forever, 
 but she had remained for Violet's sake, and had 
 braved everything that had happened. Now 
 that Hubert was out of the way, there appeared 
 at last to be some hope of seeing Violet happy. 
 She took refuge from her own distresses in com- 
 plete silence, convinced that any attempt to 
 obtain her rights would only make the situation
 
 " AH, LOVE ! SOMEWHAT LET BE ! " 
 
 worse. Mabb was doubtless a vexation, especially 
 since things had gone on slumbering for so long. 
 She had played her part, and not unwisely. The 
 grossness of her surroundings heightened her con- 
 sciousness of the wisdom of her reserve. Besides, 
 her sole thought was Violet's marriage with 
 Besser. They had long talks about him. 
 
 " What's the good of saying that the thing's 
 impossible ? " she asked Violet. 
 
 " You used to say so yourself." 
 
 "Yes, long ago. Now, it's different." 
 
 " I don't think so," said Violet. " He can dis- 
 pense with me or any one." 
 
 " Every one is saying it will happen, and you 
 know by his looks ! If he had not gone into that 
 church, you never would have been ' Mrs. Proud- 
 foot.' If he had even been content with the Eng- 
 lish Church, where the men are sensible enough 
 to marry ! But he adores you now." 
 
 " I think rather he pities us ! " said Violet. 
 
 " Wait, dear. We women wait well. I'm per- 
 fectly sure it'll come all right. It's going to be 
 the one happiness of my life. Just think ! I 
 don't believe I would go away. I would wait on 
 to see your happiness, my dear," said Lady Rim-
 
 228 THE DESTROYER 
 
 mon, kissing her. " Neither of us cares anything 
 for the outside talk, do we ? " 
 
 " No, mother." 
 
 " We'll have a little island of bliss all to our- 
 selves. He's so noble ! " 
 
 Lady Rimmon kept thus dreaming her last 
 dream, and perhaps Violet was dreaming hers. 
 
 " It's perfectly true," she wrote in her journal, 
 " what mother says we women suffer well. As 
 for me, I am becoming impervious. You might 
 as well jag a mummy as jag me now. We get 
 mummified to sorrow. I somehow feel that the 
 world is in the end utterly irrelevant to us, all its 
 crime and cruelty. We sit in the middle of it, 
 dreaming other things. It's too shallow, and we 
 need the deep sea." 
 
 She turned over the pages and read her scored- 
 out descriptions of Besser. At the side of them 
 she wrote mechanically : " I'm a poor prophetess 
 or a prophetess who recants her prophecies ! " 
 
 Might the day come when her mother could 
 say again : " It's all Edgar, Edgar with \\zryet ! " 
 Perhaps love might come again as sudden as the 
 ringing of a bell. " But I dare not," wrote Violet, 
 " put on the loud pedal to that tune ! " Yet, for
 
 " AH, LOVE ! SOMEWHAT LET BE ! " 22Q 
 
 all she knew, she might run towards love again as 
 quickly as she used to run, when she was a child 
 long ago, to a band of music. After all, she admit- 
 ted to her mother that if it was not love that was 
 disturbing Besser, she did not know what it was. 
 He had come over often, apparently with some- 
 thing to say, but had never said it. A smile 
 loitered about his face, and he had an inexplicable 
 sad mien. Lady Rimmon and Violet gave their 
 own explanation of that outward dejection. 
 
 " He thinks it's too soon," said Lady Rimmon. 
 " That's what he meant when he said he was wait- 
 ing till his aunt came home, you remember. He 
 doesn't want to hurt her feelings. I've told 
 your father to encourage him. But do you know 
 what he said to me ? He said that he believes 
 Hubert is alive ! It's wicked of him." 
 
 Besser, indeed, came over one night fully per- 
 suaded that he could withhold the truth no 
 onger. For although Hubert lay quiet in bed, 
 and agreed to almost every proposal that was 
 made to him, even allowing Dr. Bede to examine 
 him, Besser felt that the strain was becoming 
 more unbearable every day. Dissimulation was 
 being forced upon him, and he felt that not even
 
 230 THE DESTROYER 
 
 the most skilful of us can be long scientifically 
 wicked. Besides, Prahl seemed to be growing 
 retivse. 
 
 ' Well, then," said Dr. Bede, " do as you like. 
 But I warn you ! I'll wait till you come back." 
 
 He found Violet in the divan sewing an altar- 
 cloth. 
 
 "You see," she said, " I am turning a perfectly 
 amiable Dorcas. I used to laugh at needle and 
 thread, but now it's almost all I do." 
 
 Besser was more pale than she had ever seen 
 him, and his hair was lying rough on his brow. 
 
 " What's wrong?" she asked in her full-toned 
 voice. 
 
 " Oh, nothing," he said. " May I smoke?" 
 
 A little green and yellow lamp, suspended from 
 the roof, and caught like a censer, swung above 
 them. He took a low seat near her, and lit a 
 cigar. 
 
 "You like this dim light of churches?" he 
 asked. 
 
 " Oh yes," she said, " I suppose I'm stupid and 
 sentimental. I give way before solemn music and 
 dark aisles, and it's then I understand what drove 
 you to the Church. The world's noise outside
 
 "AH, LOVE! SOMEWHAT LET BE!" 231 
 
 seems perfectly irrelevant to us. But the worst 
 of it is, that with people like me, and I think you, 
 no single feeling prevails. Have you one?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " Shame," he said. 
 
 "Shame! Why?" 
 
 " I really don't know." 
 
 " You ! you ! Never ! You've too great moral 
 sensitiveness, you know. It's perfectly wonder- 
 ful that the human soul has grown like a sensitive 
 plant, becoming more and more afraid of its rough 
 moral surroundings. Compare your idea of crime 
 with a savage's, or Cesar Borgia's or Eccelino's. 
 As human judgment becomes more sensitive it 
 begins to condemns Nature as a huge, lewd 
 thing." 
 
 " Yes," replied Besser, wondering where she 
 had got her thoughtfulness, " but it means that 
 crime does not disappear, but only becomes more 
 and more subtle and refined, secret and deadly. 
 The world is a meshwork of concealed hands." 
 
 He paused. The phrase had jumped to his 
 mouth, and he saw how it described the situation. 
 Violet laid down her work. Their eyes met, and
 
 232 THE DESTROYER 
 
 Besser's were moist. The secret was on his lips, 
 but she did not know. 
 
 " Concealed hands ? " she repeated. 
 
 " Yes," he said, " and mankind love chiefly 
 gossip." 
 
 " Ah, you're grtimbly to-day," she said, smiling. 
 
 " To think," he said within himself, " that I 
 dare not even touch her hand ! " 
 
 " You don't object to this smoke," he said aloud, 
 sending out a cloud which almost concealed his 
 face. 
 
 " No, no," she said, " what astonishes me is 
 that I've kept my temper so much better than 
 you ! You know the kind of life I've had. If 
 heredity is true, I should be the most vulgar of 
 beings." 
 
 He knew to what she was referring. 
 
 " We have a family iniquity of our own," Violet 
 continued, " a sort of special variety. By all the 
 laws of nature I should carry it on. But I am 
 the stop-gap. Long ago I took refuge in the 
 truth that, after all, the saints are on the side of 
 esthetics. I think you taught me it. Real saint- 
 liness does preserve human beauty." 
 
 " Yes," said Besser, " I suppose no saint could
 
 " AH, LOVE ! SOMEWHAT LET BE ! " 233 
 
 be really vulgar. We could object to ' sin,' just 
 as we object to a bad stench." 
 
 " Mabb wouldn't put it in that way ! " ex- 
 claimed Violet. 
 
 " Oh, he wouldn't understand it," said Besser. 
 " These men are scavengers ; but a moralist 
 doesn't use such a tremendous shovel and brush." 
 
 " My father is a huge coward," said Violet. 
 
 The proprieties forbade Besser acquiescing. 
 But he had come for another purpose, and had 
 not meant to let the time slip away on such talk. 
 Violet was amused by the old look of impatient 
 search in his eyes, which used to be accompanied 
 by a sort of undeveloped frown on his brows. 
 
 "You always seem to be looking for some- 
 thing," she said, laughing. 
 
 He could not break in upon her that night, so 
 he went abruptly away. 
 
 " Has he gone ? " said Lady Rimmon, coming 
 in. " What was he saying ? " 
 
 " Heaps of things," said Violet. " He's a kind 
 of eccentric latter-day saint." 
 
 " I believe he is," said Lady Rimmon, " and 
 saints don't wed ! " 
 
 Violet wrote much in her book that night be-
 
 234 THE DESTROYER 
 
 fore she went to bed. " Love chooses only once. 
 I have loved only one man, and it is he, and he is 
 in love with me. Life, then, is going to be kind. 
 I never would have known him rightly, reverenced 
 him enough, unless I had come through that gross 
 tribulation." 
 
 Meantime, Besser had gone home. Bede was 
 anxiously awaiting him. 
 
 " Well ? " exclaimed the doctor, " have you 
 killed her?" 
 
 " I didn't tell," said Besser, " I was afraid." 
 
 Bede's eyes brightened. 
 
 " I've news," he said. 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " He's got a real lucid interval just now, and is 
 perfectly quiet and reasonable. We have had a 
 long talk. He understands everything, and he 
 wishes to release Violet, and is eager to see you." 
 
 Besser made a negative gesture. 
 
 " Stop," said Bede, " the thing can be done. 
 We'll just go up. He's quite anxious to see you 
 and Violet happy. I think it can be managed. 
 I can certify that he was insane when he married 
 her, and that is enough, supposing this renuncia- 
 tion comes directly through him, and of his own
 
 " AH, LOVE ! SOMEWHAT LET BE ! " 235 
 
 accord. At any rate we'll allow him to make any 
 statement he wishes. There's no time to lose." 
 
 " Does he really ? " said Besser, following the 
 doctor. " I was just going to tell you the thing 
 must come to an end." 
 
 " How long," asked Bede, " has he been talking 
 this dumb alphabet ? " 
 
 " A week or so." 
 
 " He'll die any way, you know," said Bede, 
 shaking his head. " This embarrassment of speech 
 is due to ataxia, which is a sure sign of the coming 
 collapse." 
 
 " O God ! " cried Besser. 
 
 They came up to Hubert. He was lying quietly 
 in bed, and Prahl was reading in a corner of the 
 room. Besser signed to Prahl to leave. Hubert 
 was trying to mouth " Ed, Ed ! " and was stretch- 
 ing out his hands. He then began to use his 
 fingers in the dumb alphabet, and indicated that 
 he wished paper and ink, which they brought 
 him, together with a little table. He took the 
 pen and wrote something in a tremulous hand, 
 but it was unintelligible. He looked at Besser 
 eagerly, and said in the dumb speech that he was 
 wishing to release Violet forever. He began to
 
 236 THE DESTROYER 
 
 write again : " I, Hubert Proudfoot " but he 
 
 stopped. The doctor encouraged him. Besser 
 was waiting, and Hubert looked anxiously, and 
 for a moment almost steadily, at him. He mum- 
 bled : " N no, she's mine ! " letting the words 
 tumble from his lips. Then he began to shake 
 himself angrily from side to side as if he suspected 
 them. 
 
 " Let us go," said Bede, " it's no use." 
 
 Hubert continued to arraign them in dumb, 
 burning language and muffled oaths, which were 
 no less terrible because they were muffled. 
 
 " What's to be done? " exclaimed Besser when 
 they had got out. 
 
 " Give him time," said Bede, " he can't last so 
 very long now ; and yet it's extraordinary how 
 they hold out, like tough fungi." 
 
 " It'll be worse if he die in our hands," said 
 Besser, who often urged that fear on the doctor. 
 
 "Yes, at first, not afterwards," said Bede. 
 " His mother will be home in ten days. Can you 
 trust your servant till then ?" 
 
 " I think so," said Besser as Bede left. 
 
 " Can I trust my servant ? " he repeated, when 
 he was alone, "can I trust myself? I hate
 
 'AH, LOVE! SOMEWHAT LET BE!" 237 
 
 Hubert ; I hate him for not releasing her. It's 
 monstrous that she remains his. Hubert is dead 
 he is no longer Hubert. I am hers, she is 
 mine. . . . Come, duty, oh like a fearful sickle, 
 and cut away the deadly root and nightshade of 
 my sin ! "
 
 BOOK III 
 
 THE TWIN SACRIFICE
 
 BOOK III 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 MRS. PROUDFOOT RETURNS 
 
 DR. BEDE had made a long study of human love. 
 He had heard the confessions and renunciations 
 of hundreds, and yet he admitted that love re- 
 mained to him still as great a mystery. Nothing, 
 he said, was quite so unintelligible as beauty and 
 love. They might be the beginning of all sorts 
 of moral totterings. " And nothing," he wrote 
 to a disciple, " is clearer to me than that beauty 
 is one of the great disturbing forces of the 
 world, making mankind quite helpless when it 
 comes. Beauty seldom brings repose, if the spec- 
 tator is impressionable at all." He had had a 
 vast experience. He had found hundreds sitting 
 amonsr the ruins of love. He had witnessed all 
 
 o 
 
 sorts of spiritual autopsy, for men and women had 
 
 241
 
 242 THE DESTROYER 
 
 come to him to lay bare their souls as they had 
 never done to any priest. " Have you noticed," 
 he wrote to his young follower, " the blunting of 
 the features in mid passion? It appears to be 
 caused by a shifting of the centers of control." 
 Of course, he knew that the individual may suc- 
 cessfully crucify himself by his will. He was 
 observing it in Besser, for instance. " This young 
 man," he continued to his pupil, " is going the 
 road of all the saints, and it is a wonderful spec- 
 tacle. He is dying inwardly. Consider his posi- 
 tion. He had loved this girl long ago. He be- 
 came a priest. Love quickened again within 
 him, and he left the priesthood, obeying a prin- 
 ciple of St. Paul : ' It is better to marry,' etc. 
 He cannot deliver himself from his old love. 
 But, for reasons which I cannot disclose to you, 
 he dare not approach her. The world has a great 
 deal of unknown tragedy, and it is due to those 
 inward reverses and distortions." 
 
 On the other hand, there was Violet, who had 
 already seen love's most darkened picture. But 
 her nature was as responsive as Besser's, and as 
 kindled. Both of them were under that supreme 
 mastery. They really belonged to each other as
 
 MRS. PROUDFOOT RETURNS 243 
 
 no two human beings ever belonged to each other 
 before. It was only ironic that Besser, in the 
 confusion of feeling of young manhood, when re- 
 ligious passion and love are often mingled and in- 
 distinguishable, had made a single choice. But 
 all our passions are mixed up with each other, as 
 everybody knows who knows anything about the 
 psychology of the saints. Besser's nature, like 
 all complex natures, was interblended and inter- 
 fused. He would remain religious and emotional 
 to the very end, doubtless. But, as yet, love 
 had discovered only a subterfuge, and the real 
 longing had come back to cause spiritual be- 
 wilderment. Violet watched the strange oscil- 
 lation of his moods, and guessed only half its 
 cause. 
 
 " D'you know," he once said to her, with a sort 
 of pale heat on his face, " love always forgets to 
 build a sepulcher." 
 
 She answered nothing, caught suddenly in a 
 strange illumination. 
 
 " But he should build one ; it is his place ! " he 
 continued. " He is born for death." 
 
 " No, no, Edgar," she said, "he would roll away 
 the stone ! "
 
 244 THE DESTROYER 
 
 When she called him u Edgar " she must have 
 known it was a struggle for him not to come 
 nearer and take her hand. She saw his eyes moist, 
 and she guessed and wondered. When he went 
 abruptly away she began to think she was sitting 
 in the darkness of unrequited love again. True, 
 she did not yet know that it was bringing them 
 both down in ruins. But now and again she 
 wrote a word like a throb in her journal. "I 
 wonder," she wrote, " if in love, as in religion, the 
 supreme sacrifice is a broken spirit." Nay, how 
 could they know that they were not yet full of all 
 the anxiety that beauty brings? Soon enough they 
 would be thinking that each was sitting in the dust 
 of beauty's and each other's disdain. " Will he not 
 come near me ? " she cried, with a strange pre- 
 monition of the consistency and symmetry of her 
 fate, while Besser, with the smile still loitering, 
 almost like a sign of conquest, on his face, ex- 
 claimed in his loneliness : " This is a slow crawl 
 to righteousness ! " 
 
 Bede was watching them both, and he had con- 
 fidences from each. His one desire was to save 
 them. " They remind me," he wrote, " of Paolo 
 and Francesca, though they are innocent." His
 
 MRS. PROUDFOOT RETURNS 245 
 
 great fear was lest Hubert might linger too long. 
 Besser never tired of repeating that it would be 
 all the worse when the truth came out. 
 
 " I admit," said Bede, " that you must keep 
 your eye on Prahl." 
 
 " Oh, he's all right," said Besser ; " all the 
 others are frightened for him. He keeps them 
 wonderfully in order. But my aunt is to be here 
 to-morrow." 
 
 " That doesn't complicate matters," said Bede. 
 
 " Does it not? " exclaimed Besser, going to the 
 door with him. 
 
 " Tuts ! " said Bede, " are we not carrying out 
 yours and his own original idea, which was to 
 keep him quiet till he was well enough to see 
 Violet. Well, then, he's not well enough yet, 
 and we must wait." 
 
 Besser shook his head and closed the door. 
 Late at night Prahl knocked at the library. 
 
 " Come in," said Besser. 
 
 " Please, sir," said Prahl, " I would like to 
 speak to you." 
 
 " Not to-night," said Besser. " Is it impor- 
 tant ? " 
 
 " Not very, sir."
 
 246 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " Well, to-morrow night," said Besser. " I've 
 enough to think about." 
 
 Next day he went with Sir Saul Rimmon to 
 meet Mrs. Proudfoot. He seldom spoke to the 
 baronet, for whom he had a personal dislike. In 
 conversation they never got beyond the com- 
 monplaces of everyday talk. But the baronet's 
 friends were dropping off one by one, and he was 
 glad to be seen in company with the young owner 
 of Mulvey House. They drove in Sir Saul's 
 landau. Sir Saul asked Besser why he wasn't 
 opening up his house, and Besser replied that he 
 didn't mean to stay long. 
 
 " Ah, well, neither do I," said the baronet ; 
 " Mulvey 's stale." 
 
 " When are you going off? " asked Besser. 
 
 " In a week or so. There's not a decent sports- 
 man in the place, and the very birds are turning 
 tame." 
 
 They had arrived at the railway station, and 
 were waiting on the platform. 
 
 " We've had a nice shine ! " said Sir Saul. 
 " I'm glad it's all over now." 
 
 Besser remained silent. 
 
 " I was against it from the first, but now
 
 MRS. PROUDFOOT RETURNS 247 
 
 I'm glad my daughter's a widow. Here's the 
 train." 
 
 It steamed into the station, and Mrs. Proudfoot, 
 dressed in black, alighted not far from where they 
 were standing. Sir Saul gave her his arm, and 
 they walked to the carriage. Mrs. Proudfoot 
 carried a box which seemed to be extremely 
 heavy. Besser relieved her of it, and was surprised 
 at the weight. It was as heavy as stones. His 
 aunt was very pale, and seemed to have grown 
 much older. Also, she appeared to be more lame 
 than before, and when she sat back in the carriage 
 she gave a sigh. 
 
 " Where's the box, Edgar? " she asked., 
 
 " In front," he said. 
 
 " Ah ! " she whispered across, " it's some earth 
 from his grave, you know, to plant a few flowers 
 in." 
 
 Besser hardly knew where to look. 
 
 " You've had a long, long journey, Mrs. Proud- 
 foot," said Sir Saul. 
 
 " Oh yes," she said. " Are you all well ? How 
 is Violet?" 
 
 " I think she's better," said the baronet. 
 " She's looking forward to seeing you."
 
 248 THE DESTROYER 
 
 As they drove through Mulvey every one knew 
 who Mrs. Proudfoot was, and the events of six 
 months ago began to be discussed again. It was 
 New-Year's day, and the shops were closed. The 
 people were in the streets. Those who had been 
 at chapel were coming out, and they nudged each 
 other as the carriage drove past. 
 
 " You must come and live with your old aunt 
 now and again, Edgar," said Mrs. Proudfoot. 
 " What are you doing with yourself? " 
 
 " Oh, perhaps he'll get married," said Sir Saul. 
 "An ex-monk mightn't make a bad husband." 
 
 " I think you were right, Edgar," said Mrs. 
 Proudfoot. " You've too many opportunities 
 here to throw away." 
 
 They were now within the grounds of Rimmon 
 House. Old Isaac was at the gate, and he lifted 
 his hat as the carriage entered. Lady Rimmon 
 and Violet were waiting at the door. 
 
 " Will you stop for lunch?" said the baronet 
 to Besser, while Mrs. Proudfoot was embracing 
 Violet and Lady Rimmon. " Ladies must sob." 
 
 Besser was prevailed upon to stay. 
 
 " We're so glad to see you safe," said Lady 
 Rimmon, " out of that dreadful island. I re-
 
 MRS. PROUDFOOT RETURNS 249 
 
 member reading ' Les Freres Corses,' by Dumas 
 pcre. What people ! It's a wonder you're alive." 
 
 Mrs. Proudfoot began to give some of her ex- 
 periences in a subdued voice. Violet asked many 
 questions. 
 
 " I've brought," she whispered to Violet, 
 "some earth from his grave, dear. I'll give you 
 half of it to put in a box to plant forget-me- 
 nots." 
 
 When the conversation extended into details 
 about Hubert's supposed grave it became almost 
 impossible for Besser to sit still. It was likewise 
 impossible for him to disturb his aunt by casting 
 doubts on the authenticity of the reports she had 
 believed. She had been taken to the wildest part 
 of Corsica which, owing to the outbreak of the war, 
 was in a state of disturbance. The Consul at 
 Ajaccio was absent, and his place had been taken 
 by a young Frenchman,who could offer no definite 
 information about recent English travelers. But 
 at Liscia Mrs. Proudfoot had discovered Hubert's 
 guide, Rotto, whom he had mentioned in his 
 letters long ago. He was a rogue, and compre- 
 hended the situation at once. A grave was im- 
 provised near a little village at the foot of Monte
 
 250 THE DESTROYER 
 
 Cinto. When she asked for his luggage Rotto 
 told her that he had sold everything because he 
 was poor, and Hubert had expressly wished him 
 to do so. Rotto's English was extremely im- 
 perfect, but that helped to darken matters. 
 
 " He worshiped Hubert," said Mrs. Proud- 
 foot. 
 
 " Are you going already ? " said Lady Rimmon 
 to Besser, who had risen, " not wait for the fruit 
 even ? " 
 
 " Oh no ! " he said, " I've something to attend 
 to. Good-by, aunt." 
 
 He hurriedly said good-by to them all. 
 
 "When shall I come over to see you, Edgar? " 
 asked Mrs. Proudfoot. 
 
 " Oh, any time you like," he said. 
 
 They wondered at his haste, but he could sit 
 no longer. For one thing, he was eager to hear 
 what Prahl had wished to tell him the night be- 
 fore. When he arrived at Mulvey House he 
 called him into his room. Prahl began by saying 
 he would like a rise in his wages. Besser was as- 
 tonished, and asked the reason. Prahl replied 
 that it was too humiliating to have to attend to a 
 " mad gent," who was becoming more mad every
 
 MRS. PROUDFOOT RETURNS 2$ I 
 
 day. He had been brought up to other things, 
 and would rather leave than bear it any longer. 
 Besides, it was no light thing to have to keep all 
 the servants in order, and be responsible for their 
 gossip. Prahl asked, with a sly look, how long 
 the episode was to last. 
 
 " A confidant, sir, deserves a higher wage than 
 an ordinary." 
 
 Besser was irritated by his demeanor, and he 
 knew what Prahl's behavior meant. He would 
 threaten to go, and that, of course, would bring 
 Bede's scheme to the ground. Prahl knew that 
 his master was in love, and conceived that it was 
 Besser's object to prolong the secrecy. And 
 there was no possibility of denying that, had it 
 not been for Prahl, the "plot," as he called it, 
 would have been discovered long ago. But Bes- 
 ser remained firm. 
 
 " You are not to suppose," he said, " as a man 
 of your experiences might be tempted to sup- 
 pose, that you are in a criminal secret. We are 
 acting under the doctor's instructions. It is not 
 a criminal but a humanitarian secret, and when 
 my friend becomes better, as we all hope, every 
 one will feel grateful to us for having saved him."
 
 252 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " Yes," said Prahl, with a dubious grin. 
 
 " Therefore," continued Besser, " although I 
 cannot compel you to keep your trust, I can only 
 say that it rests with you to behave honorably, 
 and it will certainly be to your advantage. I 
 have nothing more to say, Prahl." 
 
 Prahl left, crestfallen. This unexpected 
 straightforward statement gave him more trouble 
 than any dissimulation on Besser's part could 
 ever have done. He paused in his game because 
 he was doubtful whether now and again honesty 
 might not be the best policy.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE PLEBEIAN WINS 
 
 BUT Prahl wished to leave Mulvey, and it 
 seemed possible to drive a bargain with Sir Saul 
 Rimmon. He possessed news which would doubt- 
 less astonish Sir Saul Rimmon. He had grown 
 tired of Mulvey and of English life, and though 
 it might be cumbersome to take Miriam over the 
 continent, he could not decide to leave her behind. 
 He agreed to suffer the conventions and get mar- 
 ried, since there was no other way of winning 
 the aristocratic little peasant. Perhaps it was 
 due to mixed blood that she was so incomparable. 
 The worst of it was, he saw little of her. Fear of 
 Cubitt prevented him visiting the home farm too 
 often. Cubitt seemed doubly powerful because 
 of his ominous and persistent silence. Old Isaac 
 was beginning to discover too many troubles of 
 his own to offer much sympathy to the huge 
 peasant. But, indeed, if Cubitt required it, he 
 
 253
 
 254 THE DESTROYER 
 
 made no outward sign. He drank his beer and 
 ate his mutton as usual at the table which Mother 
 Dagon used to spread for all the laborers. He 
 knew, perhaps, more about Miriam than Miriam 
 herself, but he preserved his taciturnity. Yet he 
 was ready to throw Prahl into the pond again if 
 the occasion should ever present itself. He made 
 things so awkward for Miriam by his great peas- 
 ant's disdain and natural haughtiness, that she 
 was wishing to get out of his sight. She trembled 
 at his footstep. But he smoked his pipe, and 
 read by the fire all sorts of savage romances suited 
 to his mood. He still worked tenaciously, and it 
 looked as if some day he might fill Isaac's place. 
 That day, to be sure, was not far distant, be- 
 cause Isaac's work at Rimmon House was almost 
 at an end. It might be thought that innuendo 
 and suspicion slumbering for about nineteen years 
 had little chance of doing much damage in the 
 end. Yet although so many had been playing a 
 double game of gossip, this nebulous condition 
 of rumor could hardly continue forever. Years 
 often pass before bad repute fertilizes itself. 
 And the quick wits of Prahl and the declamation 
 of Mabb might do things in the reverse way in
 
 THE PLEBEIAN WINS 255 
 
 which, for instance, Euxine would have done 
 them. 
 
 Neither Violet nor her mother had become by 
 any means insensible to the wound ; but they 
 judged wisely that they would only irritate their 
 condition by meddling with that vulgarity. And 
 it has never yet been discovered whether Lady 
 Rimmon really disbelieved Euxine's last words. 
 Long ago, indeed, she had decided to leave Mul- 
 vey forever. She and her husband appeared to 
 be disconnected units. But she had delayed her 
 departure for her daughter's sake. In spite of 
 Violet's superior endowments there was a close 
 bond between them both. They lived in each 
 other's company very intimately after Violet's 
 misfortune had become half-mitigated by the lapse 
 of time. For the sake of private pride and de- 
 cency the House of Rimmon was carried on as if 
 no taint had stained it, although, perhaps, an 
 acute observer might have described the house- 
 hold as being in a state of armed peace. The 
 moral value of the head of the house had been 
 discovered to be a cipher. He seemed almost to 
 acquiesce in it, and the weight and preponderance 
 of opinion on any matter had passed to his
 
 256 THE DESTROYER 
 
 daughter. His sporting instinct had invaded his 
 whole being. Everything was a quarry to be 
 shot down, and he professed his daughter's accom- 
 plishments to be unintelligible and beyond him ; 
 yet he continued to bestow his immense charities 
 on Mulvey, and since he had been doing it all his 
 life, they were not to be considered as acts of 
 cowardice and attempts at conciliation. Money, 
 of course, is often a powerful protection to cow- 
 ards, but he made no display of it for a particular 
 purpose. He was still voted the most generous 
 proprietor Mulvey had ever seen, and his benevo- 
 lence was on so large a scale that any one who 
 professed to be his enemy only made himself ludi- 
 crous. But as he grew old on the road that 
 withers towards age he was harassed by a vulgar 
 circumstance. Like most men, he quarreled with 
 his folly because it had left a trace. We blame 
 our egoism only when it fails and leaves too broad 
 a mark. And thus it was curious that he proposed 
 so late to set out on a journey in order to deliver 
 himself from a society which knew him through 
 and through. Perhaps, after all, silent judgments 
 are the worst to bear. Any one who is accused 
 has always the chance that his accusation may be
 
 THE PLEBEIAN WINS 257 
 
 pronounced too vehemently and cruelly, so that 
 the exaggeration is noticed, and he wins sympa- 
 thy on the other side. Mabb's onslaught was, 
 after all, not so vexatious as the proud, silent de- 
 nunciation of Violet and Lady Rimmon. 
 
 Miriam had told Prahl " the latest." Old Isaac 
 had come home from hearing Mabb one Sunday 
 morning. He sat at the fireside in the spacious 
 barn roofed with oak beams, which served for his 
 dining-room and sitting-room in one. He bent 
 over the fire till dinner-time, and at dinner he said 
 nothing except the blessing. Cubitt was away. 
 
 After dinner Isaac resumed his seat at the fire, 
 and slowly smoked a pipe. Contrary to his usual 
 custom he did not fall asleep. The fire lighted 
 up his strong face which was deeply plowed by 
 time and labor. Now and again he emitted a 
 deep, bass groan as if something was perplexing 
 him. Mother Dagon flitted in and out, and when 
 she flitted in her eyes fell first on Isaac, and when 
 she flitted out she turned back to look at him. 
 But he seemed as still as a stone. At regular in- 
 tervals, however, he passed his right hand through 
 his hard, gray hair as if in a gesture of doubt and 
 dumb surprise. Once he rose to put on a log of
 
 258 THE DESTROYER 
 
 wood which crackled after he had laid it, and 
 then he sat down again. He watched it getting 
 blacker, and then a few mutterings escaped him. 
 
 " Ye've to turn black before ye burn well," he 
 said. 
 
 His dumb imagination was working, half awake, 
 so late. He rose and flung on another log, put- 
 ting the one against the other till they both 
 caught flame. 
 
 " A log burns best in company with another," 
 he said. 
 
 Mother Dagon heard him, and flitted out. It 
 was their custom to walk through the woods on 
 a Sunday afternoon or visit Prince Euxine's grave ; 
 but although it was already gray, he still sat beside 
 the fire, and he remained beside it till supper- 
 time. Mother Dagon drew the beer and served 
 him copiously. 
 
 " That's a fine brew, Isaac," she said. 
 
 " Oh, it's a fine brew ! " said he. " Where's 
 Mir?" 
 
 "She's with Prahl, I think," said Mother 
 Dagon, conscious that there was something 
 wrong. 
 
 But he said nothing more. She washed the
 
 THE PLEBEIAN WINS 259 
 
 dishes, and set the supper for the laborers, who 
 would come in late, and went early to bed. Isaac 
 heard some one come in. 
 
 "Is that you, Mir?" 
 
 " Yes," she said, and came in. 
 
 " Sit here," said he, and drew a chair opposite. 
 
 Miriam told Prahl that Isaac kept looking at 
 her for a long time without uttering a word. 
 
 " Till I was sad for the old chap," she said, as 
 Prahl laughed. " I'm sure it isn't my fault ? 
 Though he's been suspecting it for long, since he 
 took me often to look at me, it was the first time 
 he was awake." 
 
 Old Isaac looked into the fire, and then towards 
 Miriam again. 
 
 "Thou'lt not be kissing me to-night, Mir," he 
 said. 
 
 " Why no ? " said she. 
 
 " Oh oh ! " exclaimed Isaac, covering his face, 
 " get thee to bed." 
 
 " And d'ye know," said Miriam to Prahl, " the 
 old chap wouldn't let me kiss him as usual, but 
 pressed his hands on his face, and I just kissed 
 the old hands instead. He's been a father to me, 
 and is always so kindly-like ! Much good Sir
 
 2<5o THE DESTROYER 
 
 Saul's done me ! I've always felt as if I've no 
 right to be in the world. I wish away." 
 
 " Wait a bit," said Prahl, " I'll make papa 
 stump up isn't that the word ? a dowry for you, 
 and then we'll go." 
 
 He then sought an interview with the baronet, 
 but found some difficulty in presenting himself, 
 owing to the suspicions of the baronet's own 
 butler that he was after his place. Prahl was an 
 object of curiosity among all the domestics of 
 Mulvey. They couldn't understand him. His 
 superciliousness and his boast of having traveled 
 round the world moved their jealousy. Then the 
 baronet's man, a gaunt individual, bald and turned 
 forty, was fully persuaded that the mysterious 
 foreigner had come to oust him. He surveyed 
 Prahl carefully, and asked the nature of his errand. 
 
 " And what's that to you ? " asked Prahl sharply. 
 
 " Nothing to me, but perhaps to my master," 
 said the other with a grimace. 
 
 " Precisely," said Prahl. " Then let me in." 
 
 The baronet's man gave way. 
 
 " I'm only half an Englishman," said Prahl, 
 " but I'm worth ten of you." 
 
 The abject servant seemed to acquiesce, and
 
 THE PLEBEIAN WINS 26l 
 
 led Prahl in, awaiting the result with foreboding. 
 He put Prahl into the morning-room where he 
 had been before. 
 
 " Give that," said Prahl, handing a card with 
 his name on it. 
 
 In a few moments the gaunt butler came back, 
 and conducted Prahl to the baronet. 
 
 " Dem, dem, what can / have done ? " he asked 
 the maids as the enemy protracted his visit. 
 
 Meantime, Sir Saul had asked Prahl what he 
 wanted. Prahl was slightly embarrassed by his 
 haughty manner, and he hesitated, standing in 
 the middle of the room. 
 
 " I'm Mr. Besser's man," he said, "and " 
 
 " Well," asked the baronet, " have you any 
 message from him ? " 
 
 " No, sir, but I would like to speak to you 
 about myself a little, if you would permit." 
 
 " What is it ? " asked Sir Saul, laying down his 
 newspaper. 
 
 " Oh, I would like to marry your one of your 
 servants, Miriam, sir." 
 
 " I suppose you can marry her, then," said the 
 baronet, forcing a smile ; " you're a foreigner, 
 aren't you ?"
 
 262 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " Half a foreigner, sir," said Prahl with more 
 assurance in his tone. " My mother was English." 
 
 " H'm ! you speak English well. Are you 
 going to stay on here ? " 
 
 " Well, sir, if it paid to go away we would 
 go. ... I was just wondering if you would 
 help us." 
 
 The baronet looked closely at him, and Prahl 
 returned the glance as acutely. 
 
 " I thought, perhaps, you might feel inclined to 
 give Mir a little dowry, sir," said Prahl to the as- 
 tonished baronet. 
 
 " Little dowry ! What do you mean ? " 
 
 " Well, sir, if I were taking Mir away, relieving 
 Mulvey of Mir . . . and you of her, sir well, I 
 thought you might help us ! " 
 
 The baronet disguised his feelings poorly, and 
 he was debating inwardly what to do. It was 
 peculiar that a foreign menial was forcing him in 
 his own house to save his pride, by doing what, 
 in any case, would be equivalent to a confession. 
 He was being made ridiculous in his old age. 
 Perhaps it was the first time he had become con- 
 scious of his contempt of himself. Euxine would 
 have done the thing far more gently. He re
 
 THE PLEBEIAN WINS 263 
 
 gretted that he had not allowed Euxine to man- 
 age it long ago ; he would have done it so well. 
 Prahl, however, was standing before him, and was a 
 curious and startling substitute for the dead man. 
 It was true that he had heard with satisfaction of 
 Miriam's rupture with Cubitt and engagement to 
 the foreigner. If she married Cubitt it meant her 
 permanence in Mulvey. He had proposed, indeed, 
 that Cubitt should take a farm elsewhere, and had 
 promised to stock it. But Cubitt, with a sort of 
 filial devotion to the land he had plowed since 
 he was a lad, had overcome those generous pro- 
 posals. Prahl's advent seemed to offer a way out 
 of the embarrassment, but his audacity had not 
 been taken into account. Prahl stood watching 
 the aristocrat's discomfiture. 
 
 " Perhaps you'll pardon me, sir," he continued, 
 after a pause, during which the baronet had not 
 spoken, " but I think I ought to know something 
 about Miriam's parentage, since it's disputed." 
 
 Here the baronet threw up his shoulders. 
 
 " I've helped some of my masters before now, 
 sir," said Prahl. " Mir tells me there's been a 
 row at the home farm, and that her mother has 
 run off, nobody knows where.''
 
 264 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " Indeed ! " said the baronet half indifferently. 
 
 "And old Isaac's sitting speechless." 
 
 " Indeed ! " repeated the baronet mechanically. 
 
 He seemed difficult to move, and Prahl thought 
 he would let him know that good value could be 
 got for his money, since he was being hood- 
 winked by something going on a quarter of a mile 
 from his own door. But just as he was going to 
 lay the bait, the baronet cut him short by rising 
 abruptly and going to his desk. So Prahl kept 
 his bait for another occasion, since the minimum 
 of pressure appeared to have produced the desired 
 result. In fact, the baronet was writing out a 
 check for .2,000. He did it, of course, for 
 Miriam's sake. 
 
 " Take it," he said, " and never let me see your 
 or her face again." 
 
 " Oh yes," said Prahl. 
 
 " Ah, very well, good morning ! " said the 
 baronet. 
 
 Prahl stood waiting. 
 
 " You're not satisfied? " 
 
 " Well, sir," said Prahl, " if you doubled this, I 
 might give you some information that would 
 startle you."
 
 THE PLEBEIAN WINS 265 
 
 " Startle me ? " repeated Sir Saul with an 
 anxious glance at the sinister foreigner. 
 
 " I would have to know how much you would 
 give me, sir." 
 
 " Is it important to me ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 The baronet was growing suspicious, and began 
 to think he was being humbugged. On the other 
 hand, Prahl changed his tactics again, and saw 
 that delay might bring a better occasion. 
 
 " Oh well, sir, another time," said Prahl as he 
 left. 
 
 " No ; stop, man ! " cried the baronet. 
 
 " Another time, sir," repeated Prahl, and shut 
 the door. 
 
 And not the least of the baronet's chagrins that 
 day consisted in the feeling that the foreign 
 menial was somehow his superior, although it 
 was mitigated by the extraordinary and inexpli- 
 cable obsequiousness of his own man. It was the 
 first time he felt that long years of moral dodging 
 had made him at last weak.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE ELDER MRS. PROUDFOOT IS TOLD THE TRUTH 
 
 DURING the first days of her visit Mrs. Proud- 
 foot was often with her daughter-in-law. She 
 seemed to recognize that it was her duty to com- 
 fort her, and Violet reciprocated the sympathy. 
 They talked much of Hubert, and Violet felt 
 drawn towards the pale, suffering lady whom age 
 and infirmity had not prevented from undertaking 
 a long and painful journey in search of her son. 
 On the other hand, Mrs. Proudfoot was anxious 
 to settle money on Violet as Hubert's wife. In 
 the hurry of the marriage these things had been 
 left undone. But Mrs. Proudfoot now asked Sir 
 Saul's cooperation, and made a generous provi- 
 sion for Violet's widowhood. She had brought 
 down his portrait from London, and they all 
 looked at it before it was hung in the dining-room. 
 Sir Saul observed that he was like the bishop, 
 
 Mrs. Proudfoot's father, whom he remembered 
 
 266
 
 THE ELDER MRS. PROUDFOOT IS TOLD 267 
 
 having seen at the consecration of St. Bride's at 
 Mulvey, but Mrs. Proudfoot pointed out that 
 there was no resemblance at all. It was his other 
 grandfather whom he resembled, both in appear- 
 ance and character. They then began to discuss 
 the influence of parents on their children, and 
 confessed themselves a little troubled by the 
 thought of the transmission of character from one 
 generation to another. Lady Rimmon refused 
 to believe it. 
 
 " But you would like to believe it," said Violet, 
 " if only your good qualities were reproduced, and 
 you saw them working again before your eyes." 
 
 " Oh, I believe it," said Mrs. Proudfoot, " though 
 it's a mystery, and it makes motherhood such a 
 serious affair." 
 
 " I certainly would not like to believe it," 
 exclaimed Lady Rimmon, " especially if I were 
 you ! " 
 
 " Well," said Violet, " I'm modern enough to 
 believe that the moral survey of an individual 
 should be preceded by a physiological survey, if 
 you wish to judge him scientifically. Edgar tells 
 me he has found an esthetic basis for morals. 
 We object to bad people because they're nasty."
 
 268 THE DESTROYER 
 
 "Oh," said Sir Saul, "Edgar's a monk, 
 and monks are the most inconsistent people 
 alive." 
 
 " He's not a monk," said Lady Rimmon. 
 
 " The only thing I ever remember from the 
 history class at college," continued Sir Saul, " is 
 that we owe gunpowder to a monk. It's the 
 most ironical thing in the world." 
 
 " Edgar," said Mrs. Proudfoot, " has some gun- 
 powder of his own." 
 
 *' You mean he's passionate ? " asked Lady 
 Rimmon. 
 
 " Oh, he's plenty of fire," broke in Violet, and 
 Mrs. Proudfoot nodded assent, as if that was her 
 meaning. 
 
 " I wonder why he's not coming over oftener," 
 said Lady Rimmon. " His monk's experience 
 has made him shy for one thing." 
 
 " He was always a hard student," said his 
 aunt, " and I suppose he's busy at something. 
 But I'll go over to-night and take him by sur- 
 prise." 
 
 The truth was, that Lady Rimmon was begin- 
 ning to think that Mrs. Proudfoot was rather " in 
 the way." Instead of doing Violet any good, she
 
 THE ELDER MRS. PROUDFOOT IS TOLD 269 
 
 seemed to be doing her harm by recalling events 
 that were happily passed, although, perhaps, they 
 could never be forgotten. Still, Violet had been 
 much brighter before her mother-in-law's arrival. 
 The perpetual reference to Hubert became irk- 
 some. Besides, Lady Rimmon gave her own ex- 
 planation of Besser's rare visits. She supposed 
 them due to the fact, that, in the presence of his 
 aunt, he could hardly display the affection for 
 Violet which she felt sure was quickening within 
 him. That would be to oust too quickly Hu- 
 bert's memory. And yet it was precisely what 
 Lady Rimmon wished to see accomplished. She 
 was really living for the sake of her daughter, 
 and her stay at Mulvey would, doubtless, come 
 to an end whenever Violet was settled. She had 
 sacrificed her pride to attain it, and she felt sure 
 that at last Violet's happiness would be secured. 
 Mrs. Proudfoot might see for herself, thought 
 Lady Rimmon, that Violet had already out- 
 grown her widowhood. Indeed, it seemed im- 
 possible to consider her a widow at all. She 
 had been a few hours married, and the thing had 
 come suddenly to an end. In any case, it was 
 an extraordinary situation, because, when her
 
 2/0 THE DESTROYER 
 
 mother-in-law spoke of Hubert, Violet's thoughts 
 were really elsewhere. She blushed at the new 
 birth of love, but she knew that it was the su- 
 preme gift of her life. She had been true to it 
 till the last possible moment, and now it was only 
 a re-discovery of hidden treasure once fully pos- 
 sessed. The " cathedral priest," as she had called 
 him, had come back, " swinging a sad censer " 
 indeed. And she burned that she had not had 
 faith in her own prophecy of his return. Yet he 
 had seemed to be lost forever, dedicated to 
 austerer things, while she had accepted in his 
 place the poorer offerings of another. " How 
 can I help myself ? " she wrote in her book. " I 
 know I am being brightened again, the way dead 
 timber is glorified by fire ! " Therefore, her 
 mother-in-law's daily scrutiny of the past ap- 
 pealed to her not at all, and became even heart- 
 breaking. That mirage was past. But she ad- 
 mitted to herself that Besser appeared to be an 
 uneasy lover, and she shared her mother's belief 
 that his reserve was due to his aunt's presence. 
 He had come once in a state of great perturba- 
 tion as if he had something to communicate, 
 and had asked if his aunt was near. He seemed
 
 THE ELDER MRS. PROUDFOOT IS TOLD 2/1 
 
 exasperated to have to go away without saying 
 a word. 
 
 " Mother," said Violet, " the future will be like 
 the past, full of accidents ! " 
 
 " I must speak to her, you know," said Lady 
 Rimmon. 
 
 She took the opportunity before Mrs. Proud- 
 foot went over to see Besser, although she had 
 been already suggesting the situation by references 
 which Mrs. Proudfoot could hardly fail to under- 
 stand. Mrs. Proudfoot, however, appeared to be 
 quite unprepared for the news. She was invari- 
 ably impassive, except when she spoke of Hu- 
 bert, and then she wept. Violet's widowhood 
 had been too brief to lead any one to expect a 
 second marriage. And certainly it did not change 
 things in the least when Lady Rimmon pointed 
 out that Violet could hardly be considered to 
 have been married at all. The fact that Mrs. 
 Proudfoot had only a day or two ago made a 
 large provision for her daughter-in-law made the 
 announcement still more painful. 
 
 "You know," said Lady Rimmon tentatively, 
 while they were sitting in the drawing-room, 
 " Violet's had very little pleasure in life."
 
 272 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " Yes," replied Mrs. Proudfoot, " she knows 
 more about the dark things than you or I with 
 our gray hair." 
 
 "I would like to see her settled," said Lady 
 Rimmon, while Mrs. Proudfoot looked at her with 
 some surprise. 
 
 Mrs. Proudfoot offered no response. 
 
 " You know it's bad for a girl like her," con- 
 tinued Lady Rimmon, "to sit so long on the 
 roost." 
 
 " You don't mean to say that she's thinking of 
 marrying soon again?" asked Mrs. Proudfoot 
 with a slight tremor. 
 
 " Oh, well, you might see how it is," replied 
 Lady Rimmon. " Have you not noticed Edgar ? " 
 
 Mrs. Proudfoot looked across with astonish- 
 ment in her face. 
 
 " Have you not observed anything ? " con- 
 tinued Lady Rimmon. 
 
 " Well," said Mrs. Proudfoot, faltering, 
 "well ... I must say I am surprised, you 
 see. . . . He has struck me as being strange 
 these past few days. . . ." 
 
 " They loved each other long ago," said Lady 
 Rimmon, "before he was a priest."
 
 THE ELDER MRS. PROUDFOOT IS TOLD 273 
 
 "Before Hubert?" asked Mrs. Proudfoot, with 
 the tears in her eyes. 
 
 " Yes," said Lady Rimmon. " It's been such 
 a roundabout thing . . . and Violet tells me 
 that . . . Hubert used often to say that she 
 should marry Edgar! She will surrender her 
 portion." 
 
 Mrs. Proudfoot covered her eyes with her hand- 
 kerchief. 
 
 " Oh, I'm in the road, then," she said, sob- 
 bing. 
 
 " No," said Lady Rimmon gently, " not that ! 
 But Edgar does seem shy. You would have 
 Violet for a niece, you know ! " 
 
 " I wish them every happiness, then," said Mrs. 
 Proudfoot, " for Hubert's sake. I can take back 
 his portrait." 
 
 " Oh, don't speak like that, my dear ! " said 
 Lady Rimmon ; " you'll be nearer to us than 
 ever." 
 
 " It's come about so quickly ! " exclaimed Mrs. 
 Proudfoot. 
 
 " Don't say anything direct to Edgar this after- 
 noon," said Lady Rimmon. " He's never really 
 
 declared himself. We are waiting, but any one 
 18
 
 2/4 THE DESTROYER 
 
 can see his intentions. He needs a little encour- 
 agement." 
 
 Before going over to Besser's, Mrs. Proudfoot 
 went to her daughter-in-law, and kissed her, and 
 took her hand. Violet wondered what she meant. 
 
 " Your mother has been telling me, Violet. I 
 am glad for your sake." 
 
 Violet was embarrassed, and hardly knew what 
 to do. She said it was foolish of her mother to 
 make such premature statements. It put her in 
 a false position. She asked her mother-in-law 
 to make no reference to Besser about it since 
 nothing was certain. She could not deny that 
 he had come often to see her, but had not even 
 whispered a proposal. 
 
 "Oh, I know Edgar," said Mrs. Proudfoot. 
 " That is his way. When I begin to think of it, 
 it will be the best thing, poor child, for you and 
 us all. Only I was surprised ! You will not for- 
 get me?" 
 
 " Really," said Violet, trying to smile, " it's too 
 foolish of mamma to go on like this." 
 
 " No, no," interrupted Mrs. Proudfoot, " she is 
 looking to your future happiness. It would come 
 to this any way, and there's no use delaying.
 
 THE ELDER MRS. PROUDFOOT IS TOLD 2/5 
 
 We shall not see your happiness if it does not 
 come soon." 
 
 " Promise me to say nothing to Edgar," per- 
 sisted Violet. " I call him ' Edgar ' because we 
 have known each other since we were children." 
 
 "Ah! that's it," said Mrs. Proudfoot, smiling 
 through her tears, and going away. 
 
 Meantime Besser was not expecting his aunt's 
 visit. He had been sitting in his room all day, 
 although it was with difficulty he had kept from 
 going to Rimmon House. He wondered whether 
 the moral egoism of his victory would be worth 
 the pain and humiliation it would cause others. 
 The moral preponderance of a saint, he thought 
 supposing a saint were possible is got at a 
 great cost. He rises amid the ruins of others, 
 and is unintelligible apart from the contrast. 
 One brand plucked from the burning is, after all, 
 only one brand, and the others that remain to 
 burn are necessary for the moral spectacle. It 
 was strange that man and God were always to 
 meet in that paradox. Obviously he had already 
 broken the subtler commandment as interpreted 
 by Jesus. Society might never know it. He 
 would never be condemned, but the moral con-
 
 2/6 THE DESTROYER 
 
 fusion was already perfect within him. And yet 
 a certain contempt of sharing the ordinary routine 
 of temptation pervaded him. He indulged in 
 spiritual laughter over the farce of it. He was 
 too proud to be guilty. He had more to do than 
 pilfer miserable things out of the till-box of vice. 
 Perhaps, he said, the consciousness of having an 
 audience was one of the advantages of being 
 human. He looked at the smiling hazards of 
 life. " I suppose," he said, " if there are saints, 
 and if they live anywhere beyond this world, 
 they look on their lives here with the sort of 
 satisfaction you have in looking at the dirty 
 water of the bath you have come out of ! " 
 Meantime it was his task to keep the present and 
 the future clean. 
 
 What was the thing to be most feared in life? 
 It was not disease, not death, not judgment, not 
 disrepute nor bullets, nor the weapons of enemies, 
 but desire, when it awakes. Well, he was dis- 
 obeying it, and it was breaking him in pieces. 
 Hubert had obeyed it too thoroughly. Perhaps 
 it might be disobeyed too thoroughly. 
 
 So it is a saint's business, is it, to carry on that 
 necrosis till he can say not merely that he is dead
 
 THE ELDER MRS. PROUDFOOT IS TOLD 2JJ 
 
 unto sin, but that his body is destroyed ? He 
 has to elevate his moral consciousness at the ex- 
 pense of the esthetic : he is to avoid beauty and 
 ruin his own. In any case, those who refuse to 
 be driven into the huge slave market of instinct 
 may suffer all sorts of secret distortions and pil- 
 lage. So the doctors said : the ecstasies of the 
 saints, and the spiritual excitement of the flagel- 
 lants, were the inverted form of human love? 
 That was what the new psychology taught. Was 
 it true? he asked. He did not know. At any 
 rate, it was also true that virtue is like a uniform 
 that gives distinction to the commonest. He 
 was too busy with his own unquiet problem to 
 solve such questions as these, though he was be- 
 wildered by the alternative. " If they only 
 knew," he said, " that I am Wickedness walking 
 incognito, and also Pain." 
 
 These exaggerations were likely to go on in- 
 creasing after his aunt came to congratulate him, 
 as well as she could, on his approach to Violet. 
 Mrs. Proudfoot came in, leaning heavily on her 
 stick. She had walked over from Rimmon 
 House. She seemed to be agitated, and she 
 sank into a chair exhausted.
 
 2/8 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " I'm getting old, Edgar, and the terrible strain 
 has begun to tell upon me. The journey was 
 terrible ! " 
 
 She took off her cloak because she was warm 
 with exertion. " Edgar," she continued, " I've 
 come over to tell you that you must not keep 
 from visiting the Rimmons because of me." 
 
 " What do you mean, aunt ? " 
 
 " You mustn't suppose that that I am hurt 
 because Violet and you are coming so close to 
 each other after so soon after " 
 
 " Who is saying this ? " asked Besser excitedly, 
 and reddening. 
 
 " Oh, I might have seen it, Edgar. It's only 
 natural. Don't put yourself about. After the 
 little surprise I may almost say I am glad. I 
 believe Hubert would wish it." 
 
 " Aunt, I tell you it could never be ! " 
 
 " Edgar, what is the use of denying it. No 
 one wishes you to. Violet has suffered so much 
 that we should be thankful for this new love you 
 are giving her." 
 
 Besser rose and walked about the room while 
 his aunt leant back in her chair, muttering that 
 " nothing could really be better."
 
 THE ELDER MRS. PROUDFOOT IS TOLD 279 
 
 " Aunt ! " he exclaimed, walking back to her 
 and taking a chair to sit beside her, " I am driven 
 at last to tell you what I hope will not excite you 
 too much." 
 
 His own manner was so excited that it was con- 
 tagious, and Mrs. Proudfoot began to sit up in 
 her chair. 
 
 " Now, calm yourself ! " said Besser, speaking 
 rapidly. " Keep quiet ! " 
 
 " Oh, what is it? Edgar, quick ! " gasped his 
 aunt, while he took her hand. 
 
 " It's news that will rejoice you, and also appal 
 you because of its strangeness." 
 
 She implored him by her eyes, to tell her it 
 quick, and when he told her, she almost fainted 
 under the shock, and sat speechless. He ran for 
 a little brandy to revive her, while the word 
 " Impossible ! " fell from her lips. She was 
 deathly pale, and her lips were twitching. 
 
 " Edgar!" she exclaimed, detaching the words 
 from each other in short spasms, " it's a halluci- 
 nation of your own ! What can it mean ? " 
 
 He made her rise. 
 
 " Come ! " he said, almost lifting her. 
 
 She went tottering with him.
 
 280 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " I am old," she said, afraid, " and the world 
 seems to become stranger every day. What is 
 this ? I do not understand." 
 
 He gave her his arm, and they went slowly up 
 the stairs. She stopped and asked him if he was 
 in his right mind. He told her hurriedly he had 
 found Hubert in Paris. 
 
 " But I saw his grave in Corsica ! " she said. 
 
 "You've been robbed and cheated," he said. 
 " He's perfectly quiet now. He can't speak ex- 
 cept with his ringers." 
 
 The old lady seemed loath to go, and unutter- 
 able feelings took possession of her. 
 
 " Let me stop ! Let me take breath ! " she 
 said. 
 
 Besser noticed that the end of her stick was 
 frayed, evidently by heavy leaning on it. 
 
 " This is too sudden," she said ; " but let us go. 
 My son was dead and is alive again ! I am afraid ! " 
 
 She was perhaps dismayed by an imagination 
 of all the horror that might have to be lived over 
 again, and it made her half jealous of the dead. 
 They arrived at the door where Prahl was sitting 
 as if on guard. Prahl was surprised that the old 
 lady was going to enter. She was the first visitor
 
 THE ELDER MRS. PROUDFOOT IS TOLD 28 1 
 
 Hubert had ever had. She paused at the door, 
 turning round with a look of inquiry and terror 
 on her nephew, but he urged her to go forward. 
 " He was lost and is found ! " said Besser, press- 
 ing her hand. They came into the darkened 
 room, and Hubert immediately sat up in bed. 
 
 " Light, light ! " said Mrs. Proudfoot. " Draw 
 the blinds ! Let me see him." 
 
 Besser drew the blinds. Hubert seemed to rec- 
 ognize his mother, and threw out his arms, strug- 
 gling to speak. She went forward with a slight 
 cry, and gathered him to her bosom amid his 
 dumb babblement of the irreparable.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 SUSPENSE 
 
 LADY RIMMON and Violet were surprised when 
 a message came over from Mulvey House that 
 Mrs. Proudfoot intended to remain with her 
 nephew. They at once supposed that she had been 
 offended by the news of Violet's friendship with 
 Besser, and their feelings became embittered. 
 And when Besser's carriage came for his aunt's 
 boxes and her maid, their explanation of the new 
 turn of events seemed more justified than ever. 
 In her note Mrs. Proudfoot made some lame ex- 
 cuse that she had sat late with her nephew, and 
 was too lazy to think of returning to Rimmon 
 House. But when, next morning, another note 
 came with the carriage, intimating that she would 
 just remain for the present with Besser, the hol- 
 lowness of the previous night's excuse became 
 apparent. Lady Rimmon and Violet sat talking 
 
 all day. They had no intention of going over to 
 282
 
 SUSPENSE 283 
 
 Mulvey House to seek an explanation. Their 
 own conjectures appeared to be too probable to 
 require it, and their presence at Mulvey House 
 was evidently the last thing that was desired. 
 The cold manner in which at first Mrs. Proudfoot 
 had listened to Lady Rimmon's tale of Besser's 
 affection for Violet was now explicable. It was 
 too obvious that her jealousy had been aroused. 
 
 " It's wicked of her to put him against us," said 
 Lady Rimmon. " I always distrusted her. I 
 must, after all, go over, you know ! " 
 
 Violet implored her mother to remain where 
 she was, and although she was greatly disturbed, 
 she put as charitable an explanation as possible 
 on her mother-in-law's conduct. 
 
 " She'll come back in a day or two, mother. 
 It's perfectly natural. She spoke about going 
 over the very day she came. I expect Edgar 
 every minute. And, besides, it's not possible to 
 suppose that his aunt could have such an in- 
 fluence over him. She meant what she said, when 
 she said she wished to see me happy." 
 
 When Lady Rimmon suggested that Violet 
 should surrender all that Mrs. Proudfoot had set-
 
 284 THE DESTROYER 
 
 tied on her as Hubert's widow, Violet said it would 
 be unkind, and at any rate it was better to wait. 
 And yet she could not deny that she had felt em- 
 barrassed in Mrs. Proudfoot's presence. For she 
 had to play, against her inclination, a double part. 
 Her long sorrow was dying out, and it seemed 
 cruel to delay its poignancy. When her mother- 
 in-law spoke of Hubert, Violet was thinking of 
 Besser. It was only now that she began to see 
 that she had not loved Hubert so much as pitied 
 him. It was not so much love as sympathy and 
 her own loneliness which had united them so 
 fatally. She had nothing to be ashamed of. 
 Rather, she was able to rejoice that her experi- 
 ence had made her will so strong. She had no 
 perilous ambition. She had known sorrow, and 
 was still capable of joy. When the old-new love 
 came back, she felt it was doubly sacred. " Birds 
 sing after the rain stops," she wrote in her jour- 
 nal. She had known Love as a Destroyer, but 
 now he was coming as a healer and appeaser. 
 And it was well she already knew the dark things 
 that are in the world, she said, because it helped 
 her to be grateful for a piece of genuine bright- 
 ness when she found it. She was still midway in
 
 SUSPENSE 285 
 
 the twenties, not grown old because of premature 
 trouble. She had been long spelling out moral 
 grammar, and now she was perfect for her duties. 
 The delicacy of Besser's wooing increased her 
 love, and the feeling of personal imperfection, 
 which intense love always brings, became almost 
 a pain in her. She wrote in her book that she 
 was unworthy of him. His vast power of self-con- 
 trol, centered in a vehement and upheaved sort of 
 nature, moved her to emulation. Therefore, like 
 himself, she was content to wait, assured of him, 
 delaying those quickenings. It was too mean to 
 suppose that Mrs. Proudfoot had a plot against her. 
 
 And, indeed, Mrs. Proudfoot had no plot, but 
 the shock of the truth had made it impossible for 
 her to see them. After she had sufficiently re- 
 covered she asked Besser to send for Dr. Bede. 
 When he came they held a consultation, during 
 which Besser offered to send for Violet. But 
 Mrs. Proudfoot shook her head, and agreed with 
 the doctor that it would do no good but a great 
 deal of harm. 
 
 " I have been telling him so all through," said 
 Bede, " and I am glad you have come, and ap- 
 prove."
 
 286 THE DESTROYER 
 
 Mrs. Proudfoot's chief anxiety was to know 
 how long Hubert would last. Dr. Bede could 
 give her no exact information. He pointed out 
 that, in such cases, the patient generally sank 
 into a sort of vegetative condition, after all the 
 higher functions had ceased to act. He expressed 
 himself surprised at Hubert's vitality, and ad- 
 mitted privately to Besser, as if he were sorry, 
 that he might last a few months yet. The im- 
 mediate question, however, was whether or not 
 they should remove him, and whether the Rim- 
 mons should be told the truth. To Besser's sur- 
 prise his aunt seemed adverse to his proposal to 
 let Violet know at once. She shrank from the 
 publicity from which she had already suffered, and 
 besides, she said it would be fatal both to Violet 
 and Hubert. She expressed surprise at the man- 
 ner in which Besser had carried out the doctor's 
 instructions, and thanked him till the tears 
 dropped. Her own wish was to remove Hubert 
 to London, and she tried to discover a feasible 
 plan. Bede shook his head. When Besser asked 
 what explanation she would offer the Rimmons, 
 she said she would brave it as well as she could. 
 They knew she had intended to stay with him in
 
 SUSPENSE 287 
 
 any case. But the greatest surprise was still in 
 store, for Mrs. Proudfoot assured Besser that his 
 relations to Violet in no way disturbed her in- 
 deed, she wished him to continue them : and 
 when she heard from Bede that Hubert had more 
 than once expressed a desire to release Violet, 
 and had once actually attempted it, she said she 
 was convinced that she was right when she wished 
 her nephew and Violet to be happy. Hubert 
 was beyond recall. She would take care of him. 
 Not that she wished Besser to marry Violet : she 
 only delicately hinted that, in any case, the future 
 was theirs. 
 
 " Don't misunderstand me, Edgar," said Mrs. 
 Proudfoot. " I do not mean that you can take 
 Violet to be your wife yet. But it is clear that 
 you belong to each other, and that Hubert " 
 
 Here she broke down. 
 
 " It is all so strange," she continued, " and I 
 am bewildered by all I have come through ! " 
 
 " I expect that Lady Rimmon will come over," 
 said Besser. " And you may be prepared for the 
 worst." 
 
 " Ah, my dear boy ! " she said, " I am old, and 
 the worst shouldn't frighten me any more."
 
 288 THE DESTROYER 
 
 She made Besser tell her over and over again 
 how he had found him, and then repeated to him 
 all the details of the Corsican roguery. During 
 the next three days she nursed Hubert, who 
 hardly opened his eyes, while Prahl watched 
 everything with eyes that were very wide open. 
 But he confessed himself astonished at Besser's 
 conduct, and pronounced him to be still a hope- 
 less " youngling." His interest in the game sud- 
 denly increased one day when he announced Lady 
 Rimmon, and he was not surprised when Besser 
 started at the news. It looked as if the " affair," 
 as he called it, could not hang on long now. Mrs. 
 Proudfoot said she would come down directly, 
 whispering to Besser that it was the first time in 
 her long life that she had seen the necessity of 
 lies. What could they do ? They could not stop 
 to discover whether it was right or wrong. They 
 were driven to conceal, for a few moments, the 
 ugliness of reality from eyes it would have hurt. 
 Besser went first, and Lady Rimmon, when she 
 shook hands with him, said nothing, but looked 
 curiously at him, as if trying to discover in 
 his appearance the meaning of the estrange- 
 ment.
 
 SUSPENSE 289 
 
 " Oh ! " he said rather awkwardly, " I should 
 have been over." 
 
 " Yes," she said. " Really, you'll excuse me 
 just coming to ask. I thought it was the best 
 and broadest-minded thing to do. We're aston- 
 ished ! What's wrong? " 
 
 " Really, nothing at all, Lady Rimmon," re- 
 plied Besser. " My aunt just took it into her 
 head to stay here. You know her ways, I sup- 
 pose. She'll be down directly." 
 
 " Oh, I'm glad ! " said Lady Rimmon, a little 
 assured, and trying to laugh outright. " We 
 thought oh, well, I don't know what, you know ! 
 Has your aunt not been well?" 
 
 " No, she's not been well," said Besser. 
 
 Lady Rimmon seemed not to be quite sure of 
 him yet, because his face had a slightly irritated 
 expression. 
 
 " I'm not boring you ? " she said. 
 
 " Not in the least." 
 
 " Why do you men read so much ? You're just 
 like Violet," said Lady Rimmon, trying to humor 
 him. " Ah, here's your aunt ! " 
 
 Mrs. Proudfoot came in, leaning heavily on 
 her stick, and smiling as she came up. Lady
 
 290 THE DESTROYER 
 
 Rimmon was surprised at her disheveled 
 look. 
 
 " You're wondering ! " said Mrs. Proudfoot, 
 shaking hands. " Did you and Violet think I ran 
 off?" 
 
 " We did," said Lady Rimmon, brightening, 
 " but you do look ill. Had you a shock, or what ? 
 Edgar said nothing." 
 
 " Well, I had" said Mrs. Proudfoot. " How's 
 Violet?" 
 
 " Very well," said Lady Rimmon ; " she'll come 
 over to see you, if you won't come over to see 
 us." 
 
 " Oh, I'll go straight home, soon," said Mrs. 
 Proudfoot. " It's time, you know." 
 
 " Well, perhaps it is," said Lady Rimmon. 
 " You'll be wishing to put your house in order." 
 
 Besser was surprised at the manner in which 
 his aunt piloted the conversation. Had it been 
 in his own hands it might have broken down. 
 But they spent half an hour in pleasant small 
 talk, and no one would have suspected all that 
 lay beneath the jungle of words, and that hun- 
 gered to make itself known. Lady Rimmon 
 rose, and asked Besser when he was coming to
 
 SUSPENSE 291 
 
 see her. He said soon, and she went home to 
 Violet to give her her impressions. 
 
 " I don't know what quite to make of her," 
 she said. " I don't know if she's sincere. Her 
 excuse seemed perfectly natural, and yet there's 
 something 
 
 " Oh, no, mother ! I don't think so," said Vio- 
 let. " Why should we always be suspecting ? Is 
 Edgar coming over soon ? " 
 
 " He said he would," replied her mother, " but 
 I'm almost sure she's putting him against us. 
 Really, Violet, that little brown earth box she 
 gave you looks tiresome, though it's pathetic ! " 
 
 " Leave it, mother," said Violet, " it's not doing 
 any harm." 
 
 The forget-me-nots would certainly not appear 
 soon above the earth, and Violet knew that when 
 she buried the seed it was like the symbol of her 
 dead love. The little brown earth box remained 
 outside her window on the sill, waiting for the 
 reviving rains and the sun of spring. And she 
 waited, too. He came, indeed, but he was almost 
 dumb with bewilderment. He had dreamt the 
 previous night that he had taken Violet away 
 without telling her that Hubert was in his house.
 
 292 THE DESTROYER 
 
 He woke, excited by these dream vanities, and 
 wondered if they might foreshadow the future, 
 when perhaps Hubert might really go away for- 
 ever. He turned swiftly round at the thought, 
 as quickly as men turn at the sound of money 
 when it falls. But then he was ashamed, and 
 drove the thought out of him. Yet he could not 
 resist the longing to see her once more. When 
 he came he found the old House of Rimmon in 
 a strange commotion. Lady Rimmon was weep- 
 ing, and Violet seemed full of a suppressed excite- 
 ment. 
 
 " He's gone ! " said Lady Rimmon to Besser. 
 
 " Who ? " he said. 
 
 " My husband. He has left a letter saying he 
 has gone away, and that he learned to blush only 
 when he became old. I believe it is my fault, 
 I have not spoken to him for months. He says 
 he will never come back, and asks a long forgive- 
 ness ! ' 
 
 " Oh, he will come back," said Besser cheerily. 
 
 " Never ! " exclaimed Lady Rimmon ; " will 
 he, Violet ? He says he has been wicked." 
 
 " That means that he didn't mean to be," said 
 Besser.
 
 SUSPENSE 293 
 
 " He has gone away because human faces 
 frighten him," said Violet, " by their pity of his 
 old age." 
 
 " We'll never find him," sobbed Lady Rim- 
 mon ; " it would be like the hunt for Hubert." 
 
 " Quieten yourself," said Besser. 
 
 " I'll put her to bed," said Violet. " Wait." 
 
 " D'you know what he says in his letter? " said 
 Lady Rimmon, addressing Besser as she was 
 leaving the room, and attempting to smile, " he 
 says you are more worthy to take care of us than 
 he was." 
 
 He stood waiting till Violet returned, and 
 when she came she took him to the divan, where 
 the little yellow and green lamp swung above 
 them. 
 
 " Conscience," she said to Besser, " seems to 
 be a rodent ! It has been gnawing and gnaw- 
 ing through him for years, and has just got 
 out." 
 
 " What will you do ? " said Besser. 
 
 " I don't know," she said. " The most peculiar 
 thing to me about human beings is the strange 
 feeling they put into atonement. We do feel that 
 if a human being has been punished or caned,
 
 294 THE DESTROYER 
 
 he's somehow clean again ; that his mistake 
 deserves to be forgotten, and that he deserves 
 to be recognized again. I believe that it was some 
 sort of feeling like this that led me to marry your 
 cousin. I suppose I have absorbed too much the 
 literal meaning of the New Testament to be 
 thought proper." 
 
 " Well ! " said Besser, taking a long breath, " I 
 suppose you are one of those who forgive every- 
 thing to the uttermost, no matter how you have 
 been deceived." 
 
 " Well," she said, smiling, wondering also why 
 she could smile two hours after she had heard of 
 her father's disappearance, " I never forgave you 
 for going to Monte Oliveto. Do you remember 
 when you drove past ? " 
 
 " Oh yes," he said, remembering that he had 
 kissed his hand. 
 
 They paused, while they both were filling up 
 the dream-distances of the future with figures and 
 pageants and tragedy. He knew as little about 
 it now as she. He only tried to dispel the mist 
 which kept closing round him. He lingered 
 beside her as if it might be the last time. He 
 dare not advance a step nearer. He let his love
 
 SUSPENSE 295 
 
 purr within him unheard. But at least she knew 
 his eyes, and they were full of tears. 
 
 " Edgar ! " she said, rising as if to help him if 
 he were ill. 
 
 " No, Violet no ! " he said, " pardon me. 
 Good-night ! "
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE YOUNGER MRS. PROUDFOOT IS TOLD THE 
 TRUTH 
 
 NEXT morning Lady Rimmon kissed Violet, 
 and said they were nearer to each other than 
 ever. She wondered if her husband would have 
 felt as distressed if she had gone away as she 
 originally intended. Perhaps he might come back, 
 but his letter said no. In any case it was given 
 out that he had gone a voyage, and meantime her 
 chief concern was her daughter's happiness. They 
 looked at each other, and both seemed to have 
 had no sleep. Violet was haggard for want of it. 
 
 " Did you sleep at all ? " asked Lady Rimmon. 
 
 " No, I counted all the hours," said Violet. 
 
 "Were you thinking of your father? I was; 
 I never got a wink." 
 
 "No," said Violet, "I wasn't. Last night 
 Edgar was inexplicable." 
 
 " What was wrong? " 
 296
 
 THE YOUNGER MRS. PROUDFOOT IS TOLD 297 
 
 Violet remained silent, while her mother said 
 that Mrs. Proudfoot was going soon to London, 
 then Edgar would be free. Spring was coming, 
 and the old House of Rimmon might at last begin 
 to smile. Violet had been at her window early 
 that morning, and if her window had been higher 
 she might have seen Besser on the tower. He 
 had been up all night with Hubert, changing the 
 watch with Prahl, who grumbled at the labor. 
 Prahl, indeed, was almost becoming insolent, re- 
 fusing to do his work, and threatening to go. 
 Besser feared that in a few hours Violet might 
 have to bear the shock. He could do nothing 
 to prevent it, and he refused to bribe Prahl. 
 Mrs. Proudfoot agreed that it must just be as it 
 was to be, and said that the long strain should 
 come to an end. Instead of going to his bed 
 after Prahl had relieved him, Besser climbed the 
 tower at dawn. Spring seemed to be sending 
 news of itself from afar off. He looked across 
 and saw the old House of Rimmon lying dark 
 under its trees, with half the roof moss-grown. 
 The trees were dripping in the morning mist. All 
 Mulvey lay quiet except for the isolated cries of 
 a few peasants and field laborers driving the
 
 298 THE DESTROYER 
 
 horses to the fields, and the blackbirds singing in 
 the branches. Besser stood a few minutes on the 
 tower, looking towards the hectic East. The sun 
 seemed like a huge red lens focusing the rays of 
 the kindled universe. But he could sing no 
 " Orient ode," and went down silent and numb. 
 
 A few hours after, old Isaac went to Lady Rim- 
 mon and gave up his place, saying that Cubitt 
 could take it. 
 
 " YeVe been a good lady to me," he said, " but 
 I can't plow the same ground any more. The 
 truth goes a-wriggling before me on't." 
 
 Lady Rimmon asked where Mother Dagon 
 was, and Isaac said she was begging to be taken 
 back. 
 
 " Let her come back, and stay you on, Isaac." 
 
 The old man dried a tear from his eye. 
 
 " No, ma'am ; I can't work here ! Cubitt's a fit 
 lad." 
 
 " Then we shall provide for you, brave Isaac," 
 she said. " It's quite true that we may not need 
 any more workers. Perhaps this house will be 
 sold." 
 
 " Miss Violet will be going to be married," said 
 Isaac. " I wish ye all happiness, Miss Violet."
 
 THE YOUNGER MRS. PROUDFOOT IS TOLD 299 
 
 Violet smiled vaguely, and wished the episode 
 to come to an end. Lady Rimmon told Isaac 
 she would give him a cottage, with a piece of land, 
 on another part of the estate, and he would sit 
 rent-free for life. 
 
 " But I can't take her back," said Isaac. " She's 
 gone to her brother." 
 
 " Then let her remain," said Lady Rimmon ; 
 " and Cubitt can take over the home farm here." 
 
 Isaac went away muttering the overflow of his 
 thanks, and when he arrived at the home farm he 
 found Miriam packing. Every one seemed to 
 be on the move, and he asked her what she meant. 
 
 "Oh, I don't belong to here," she said, and con- 
 tinued gathering her things. 
 
 " But I offer ye a house," said Isaac, " which 
 her ladyship has given me." 
 
 " Oh, but I'm going with Heinrich," said she. 
 
 The truth was that the news of Sir Saul's de- 
 parture had been carried by Miriam to Prahl as 
 soon as Miriam knew it. It meant a great deal 
 to Prahl, because he had intended to speculate 
 with the secret of Hubert Proudfoot's presence 
 in Mulvey, by offering it to the baronet for a 
 " consideration." But as soon as he heard he was
 
 300 THE DESTROYER 
 
 gone, he decided first to try Besser by asking a 
 sum for his secrecy. If Besser complied he would 
 leave Mulvey with Miriam at once, and he told 
 her to prepare herself. If Besser refused, then 
 Prahl would run to Lady Rimmon and Violet, and 
 surprise them with the news. Although Besser 
 suspected him, he did not suppose the scheme was 
 thus laid. He generally expected, with fatal con- 
 sequences to himself, that human beings would 
 act on motives as good as his own. Yet he was 
 not surprised when Prahl came to him in the 
 forenoon, with a certain menacing look. 
 
 " Sir," said he, " I'm afraid I can't wait longer." 
 
 " Well, you can go," said Besser. 
 
 " But " replied Prahl. 
 
 " Oh yes, you mean that before you leave all 
 Mulvey will know the truth." 
 
 Prahl hesitated, slightly ashamed. Besser hesi- 
 tated, too, before he gave the finishing stroke. 
 He appealed to the man's sense of honor, if not 
 to his pity for the broken old lady, whom a fresh 
 stroke might injure irreparably. Prahl thought 
 that Besser's speech was a disguised statement 
 of his personal interests. He said the servants 
 were getting unruly, which was true, and that
 
 THE YOUNGER MRS. PROUDFOOT IS TOLD 30! 
 
 the " thing " would be out in any case very soon. 
 The truth is, he wished to be the first in the 
 field. He hinted that the situation might still 
 continue, but when Besser looked at him con- 
 temptuously he threw up his place and de- 
 manded his wages. He got them, but not with- 
 out the knowledge ot the other servants, and he 
 had a race to Rimmon House with the gardener 
 Phil, who had long been wishing to deliver him- 
 self of the news. They were followed by three 
 other servants, whom Ruth was unable to restrain, 
 and she came to Besser, with her hands uplifted, 
 saying they had all run. The marvel was, she 
 said, that they had kept it till now. Prahl out- 
 stripped them all, and was first at the door. 
 When Lady Rimmon saw them running up 
 the avenue she called Violet to the window, 
 and they both wondered what it meant. By 
 this time Prahl had entered the house, and 
 walked into the presence of Violet and her 
 mother. The others drew back and waited out- 
 side. 
 
 " Madam," said Prahl, " I have something im- 
 portant to tell you." 
 
 " Oh, what is it ? " asked Lady Rimmon,
 
 302 THE DESTROYER 
 
 trembling at his abrupt manner, and clinging to 
 Violet. " Is my husband ?" 
 
 "No," said Prahl, "it's not about him; it's 
 more important." 
 
 "Then say what it is!" exclaimed Violet, turn- 
 ing pale. 
 
 "Will you repay me for my trouble, madam? " 
 asked Prahl without a blush. " I've been occu- 
 pied about you longer than you know." 
 
 " Yes, yes, anything ! " ejaculated Lady Rim- 
 mon, handing him her purse. 
 
 Prahl took it, and before he had finished his 
 explanatory sentence Violet had almost fainted. 
 But she caught hold of her mother, and as she 
 struggled back to consciousness she heard Prahl 
 say that Besser had been keeping Hubert for 
 months. The douple, triple, multiple meaning of 
 it all seemed to overpower her. Lady Rimmon 
 stood as if stunned, and asked the man feebly if 
 he knew what he was saying. 
 
 " Yes," said Violet, in a low choking voice, " it's 
 too obvious. Now I understand! " 
 
 Prahl, as if there was nothing more to do, took 
 his leave, went to the home farm where Miriam 
 was waiting, and left Mulvey with her forever
 
 THE YOUNGER MRS. PROUDFOOT IS TOLD 303 
 
 In a few minutes Lady Rimmon, to whom illu- 
 sion remained a necessity all her life, began to 
 question the man's honesty, and asked Violet if 
 they would not go over to discover the truth. 
 How could it be true? 
 
 Violet, receiving for the moment a fictitious 
 strength out of the feeling of indignation and 
 shame that overtook her, said she would go. Un- 
 able to discover motives or causes, and full of her 
 own personal humiliation, she covered Besser's 
 name with bitter opprobrium. She ran over to 
 Mulvey House, followed by her mother, and, per- 
 haps on the way, she may have fondly counted 
 herself the dupe of the foreign scoundrel. She 
 had heard Besser complain of him. She stopped 
 on the road, weeping, and hoping ultimate hopes. 
 Everything about her seemed a phantasmagoria. 
 " One is interested," says Burke, " that beings 
 made for suffering should suffer well." She had 
 endured all the strange and sudden alternations 
 of human psychology, but the end was not yet. 
 She had known all the mocks of life, and yet she 
 believed in its essential goodness. Once she had 
 thought it was so short that it seemed hardly worth 
 taking advice about. But she had not yet dis-
 
 304 THE DESTROYER 
 
 covered, amid a hundred renunciations, that we 
 have no fixed goal except death. She seemed 
 never to have found love, only pity, and a worm 
 gets that. Her joy had been like the sleep of the 
 poor, which comes by fits and starts and is cold. 
 Love and sorrow had mingled, but not long, for 
 sorrow had leavened love till the whole was 
 leavened. And the unsummed future ! 
 
 Her mother came up to her where she was 
 caught as in a horror of dream. 
 
 " Violet ! " exclaimed Lady Rimmon, " it's 
 utterly ludicrous it can't be ! What are we 
 thinking of? He's a villain, and he's got my 
 purse for nothing ! " 
 
 " Let us go on," cried Violet, " and find out 
 the truth, and bring this awful cruelty to an end. 
 That's why my mother-in-law hasn't come back ! " 
 
 They struggled up to Mulvey House. Besser 
 was waiting them, pale, and with his lips trem- 
 bling. In a moment Violet knew the truth. 
 
 " Oh ! Oh ! how could you have done it ? " she 
 cried ; " it's a crime ! You said he was dead ! " 
 
 " Yes, he is dead ! " 
 
 Besser shook his head, while Mrs. Proudfoot 
 came out to meet them in the hall.
 
 THE YOUNGER MRS. PROUDFOOT IS TOLD 305 
 
 " Is he really so wicked ? " said Lady Rimmon 
 to Mrs. Proudfoot, amid their confusion. 
 
 " He's not wicked at all," said Mrs. Proudfoot 
 quietly. " Calm yourselves. Violet ! " 
 
 " Where is he ? " cried Violet, covering Besser 
 with abuse which he forgot and forgave. 
 
 " You are ill ! " he said. 
 
 " Yes, yes, I am ill ! " she cried, " I am ill with 
 humiliation." 
 
 " No, Violet," he said firmly, " you will under- 
 stand some day." 
 
 Her mother implored her not to go up, but 
 although she was afraid, she compelled Besser to 
 take her, while the others followed. He saw the 
 physiognomy of her panic as he led her in. 
 Hubert's eyes were open, full of a sort of theatric 
 light. He threw out his arms feebly, as if he 
 recognized her, although she hardly recognized 
 him. And certainly it was pity more than love 
 that made her come near him, as he struggled to 
 express with his hands the muffled feeling of his 
 
 destruction. 
 20
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 LIGHT O' THE SUN 
 
 HUBERT, then, died late. Violet took him to 
 the dim House of Rimmori and nursed him to 
 the end. And if she was to know only pity, and 
 not love, she would still remain incomplete. 
 Besser, indeed, had loved her, but in the end it 
 had meant for her a great humiliation. There 
 was no wonder if the blinding shock of the truth 
 brought bitter words to her lips. Because she 
 had been at stake all the time without knowing it, 
 the sword of suspicion was for a moment drawn. 
 She had been played with too savagely. Yet she 
 saw dimly through her tears what he must have 
 suffered. She began to know that it was just 
 because he had so wonderfully suppressed his 
 love, and been ashamed of it, that he had been so 
 seductive. She guessed the strength of will by 
 which he had overcome the fascination of error, 
 
 and how sure-footed had been his wisdom. Long 
 306
 
 LIGHT O' THE SUN 307 
 
 afterwards they met each other again in their 
 dreams, and each seemed to be covered with the 
 scarred imagery of passion. Years were to pass 
 during which they possessed each other in their 
 dreams, and only in their dreams ; but even then 
 they appeared to approach each other as haunted 
 beings ; and often, when he seemed to come 
 towards her with the sort of light on his face with 
 which men go to their success, she fled from him 
 as alien to her by all the world's laws. She said 
 she knew he was wiser and purer than she ; but 
 her love for him and his love for her had made 
 the past monstrous, and had been a ruinous pos- 
 session, compared to which martyrs' sufferings 
 might appear gay. She knew, however, in the 
 cruelty of delay, that it was impossible to sur- 
 render the love round which her life had revolved, 
 and to pronounce it futile. Her beauty was per- 
 haps sapped and marred. Human beauty is per- 
 fect not in its division but in its unity of two, and 
 the individual never knows it till his own is 
 mingled with another's. It looked as if it was 
 getting too late for that conjunction, and the 
 beauty of each was dying apart and hungering. 
 " Not the least of the little tragedies," she wrote,
 
 308 THE DESTROYER 
 
 " that play themselves out among human beings 
 is this mysterious passing of beauty ! " 
 
 He heard a rumor that she had embraced 
 Catholicism, and he smiled to think that she had 
 ended where he had begun. Since she was, mean- 
 time, lost and dead to him, he used to repeat, as 
 appropriate, one of the songs he had heard a 
 boatman sing on the Lake of Garda : 
 
 " Vago ^ercando la porta e la mura, 
 
 Vago 9ercando la mia inamorata ; 
 
 La morte me risponde orrenda-scura : 
 
 No la 9ercar che la xe sotterrata." 
 
 But it was impossible for him to believe that 
 he had lost forever all the charity of her lips. 
 And he hardly wondered that she required some 
 heat of worship into which she could put all her 
 ardence. 
 
 He went back to Mulvey after she and her 
 mother had withdrawn to Hildesheim. " We 
 shall go away," Lady Rimmon had said, " out of 
 this dark house ! " Besser meant to sell Mulvey 
 House. He climbed his tower at dawn again, 
 and looked towards the trembling thresholds of 
 the East. He looked across to the old house of 
 Rimmon, sitting, moss-grown, silent in the earth's
 
 LIGHT O' THE SUN 309 
 
 decay, and guarded only by Cubitt. The at- 
 mosphere was dim round about it. Besser 
 thought it was the last time he would see it, but 
 something kept him from selling his own place, 
 and he came away. He had wealth in plenty, but 
 if his love was killed how could he be complete ? 
 He might spend his life, as he did during the 
 next four years, in writing books into which his 
 own spiritual distortion entered as an unsolved 
 riddle, or in working hard among the miners 
 again, casting on them not the light of a creed 
 but of his own glow. Yet it would not be enough. 
 He had no hand of another to touch. Wisdom, 
 knowledge, charity, still left him void. Doubtless 
 he had taken the road of all the saints (he had 
 never forgotten Borgo Ogni S. Santz, as it is 
 written up on the street in Florence) and had 
 found it hard. But the tease and worry of sin 
 had made him ill, and a saint is not typical of 
 this world but of its antithesis. He still longed 
 for beauty, though it might be too late. If he 
 was never to find it in some form, he might as 
 well give his body to be burned. He had strug- 
 gled well against his few odds and ends of " sin," 
 but the ruinous spiritual conflict had devastated
 
 3IO THE DESTROYER 
 
 his face, and left marks upon it that might have 
 been taken for the marks of vice. And he began 
 to understand the depth of meaning of Tinto- 
 retto's conception of the physiognomy of Christ. 
 " Genius," said Balzac, " sends a man to the hos- 
 pital." And so may great spiritual passion. His 
 esthetic fear of ugliness had delivered him. doubt- 
 less, from all moral squalor, but he began to 
 wonder whether, what used to be known as 
 " saintliness," did not, by its perpetual crucifixion 
 of the body, degrade and vilify it. One thing he 
 knew that Thomas Aquinas was wrong when he 
 said that in beauty desire is quiet ! Yet it was 
 his pride that had taken him safe through the 
 intolerable vulgar tragedy. And if you had asked 
 him why, having broken away from old faiths, he 
 kept their precepts, though not their forms, he 
 might have said it was for auld lang syne, since 
 he never quite delivered himself from sentimen- 
 talism. He still spoke their emotions, and heard, 
 as it were, the sound of praise in the Invisible. 
 And as he looked on the vanishing things of the 
 world, and the vanished things of his own life, 
 he seemed to be conscious of a sort of bruit of 
 victory and inward hurrah.
 
 LIGHT O' THE SUN 311 
 
 But they could not thus live possessing each 
 other at a distance. The Unknown and the Un- 
 possessed had been torturing them long, and they 
 had been offered up as a twin sacrifice. Yet 
 Violet's conception of the consistency and sym- 
 metry of her fate was, happily, to be contradicted. 
 They were driven to each other for a refuge. 
 Edgar still seemed to shout to her across the 
 shores of dream. She caught those dream-echoes. 
 The very polarity of their sorrow brought them 
 at last to a goal. Beauty might be forsaking 
 them, but they were not to disappear in a sort of 
 slow catastrophe of withering. The days were 
 passing at the end of which they were to meet 
 on the outer edges of the long conflict they had 
 left behind. Love was counting it in his deep 
 Book of Hours, and Edgar measured the months 
 by passing a bead of his old rosary. Each seemed 
 to have an inward audition of its coming. So 
 that it was only with a kind of awe and divina- 
 tion realized and perfected that they met, after 
 four years, in the twilight of Milan Cathedral. 
 It was a divine afternoon in May, when the world 
 seemed like a sun-dream. Through the great 
 central door the sun was streaming in a broad
 
 312 THE DESTROYER 
 
 shaft on the pavement, bewildering the darkness 
 of the aisles. And the air above was like subtle 
 dust of gold. It was like a gotterddmmerung. 
 Violet and her mother were sitting in the left 
 wing where the sun came through the rich glass, 
 like a soft incendiary, setting the pillars and arches 
 on fire, and gathering the darkness out of the 
 roofs. Edgar was walking towards them, uncon- 
 scious of the double holiness of the place. He 
 would know in a moment that it was big with re- 
 demption. And Edgar knew, surely he, that the 
 ground of reconciliation is holy. 
 
 " Ah ! " whispered Lady Rimmon, who by that 
 time had become widowed, in soft exclamation of 
 her awe, " look, Violet ! " 
 
 Nay, she could hardly look, for it seemed like 
 the joyous intrigue and compassion of the Invis- 
 ible to bring them together at last before the 
 altars of their sacrifice and their victory. But a 
 smile, as fine as a smile in sleep, passed over her 
 face. Their souls had fled like fugitives up and 
 down between the gates of birth and death, in 
 terror of both gates, and were to be caught 
 here in the midst. Edgar came forward as if im- 
 pelled by that thaumaturgy. They seemed to
 
 LIGHT O' THE SUN 313 
 
 have, in a moment, a vision into the depth and 
 solemnities of each other's lives. They divined, 
 without use of words, this easing of their destinies. 
 They had been sitting long in the cold places of 
 duty, but this soft glow came like the warmth of 
 fruit that ripens in the sun. Love, troubled and 
 forsaken, had long been laying his foundations in 
 darkness, and these were to be his late upbuild- 
 ings. What could words do ? Tears could not do 
 enough for that silent chorus of their lives. 
 
 " O Edgar ! " whispered Lady Rimmon, " at 
 last I have not lived in vain ! " 
 
 And though it was late, there was yet time to 
 gather up Love's precious harvest dust. 
 
 THE END.
 
 U U O 
 
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