|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 100
He looked round to address Nurse, but her appearance checked him. She
was staring into the darkness; he could feel her one-eyed glance pass
him, fastening on something beyond. He moved to let the lamplight
enter the doorway; and then in the illuminated square that fell on the
floor he saw Manetho's upturned face. The fallen priest lay with one
arm doubled under him, the other thrown across his breast. Nurse
stared at her broken idol, motionless, with stertorous breathing.
But was Manetho dead? Helwyse, the physician, stepped across the
threshold, and stooped to examine the body. The dumb creature followed
and lay down, animal-like, close beside the deity of her worship.
Presently the physician said,--
"There's life in him, but he's hurt internally. We must find a way to
move him from here."
"Life!"--the woman heard, nor cared for more. Her dry fixedness gave
way with a gasp, and she broke into hysteric tears, rocking herself
backwards and forwards, crooning over the insensible body, or stooping
to kiss it. She had no sense nor heed for the lover of her youth.
"Could such a creature have been his wife? even his mistress?"
questioned Helwyse of himself. But he spoke out sharply:--
"You must stop this. He must be revived at once. Go and make ready a
bed, and I will carry him to it."
As he spoke, a silent shadow fell across the body, and Gnulemah stood
in the doorway. Balder's first impulse was to motion her away from a
spectacle so unsuited to her eyes. But though the shadow made her face
inscrutable, the lines of her figure spoke, and not of weak timidity
or effeminate consternation. Womanly she was,--instinct with that
tender, sensitive power, the marvellous gift of God to woman only,
which almost moves the sick man to bless his sickness. A holy
gift,--surely the immediate influx of Christ's spirit. Man knows it
not, albeit when he and woman have become more closely united than
now, he may attain to share the Divine prerogative. Study nor skill
can counterfeit it; but in the true woman it is perfect at the first
appeal as at the last.
"He shall have my bed," said this young goddess Isis; "it is ready,
and my lamp is burning."
Balder stooped to uplift his insensible burden.
"O, not so!--more tenderly than that," she interposed, softly. A
moment's hesitation, and then she unfastened the golden
shoulder-clasp, and shook off her ample mantle. This was Manetho's
litter.
"I will help you carry him.--Why do you-weep, Nurse? he will awake, or
Balder would have told us."
Never, since Diana stooped to earth to love Endymion, was seen a
nobler sight than Gnulemah in her simple, clinging tunic, whose heavy
golden hem kissed her polished knee, while her round and clear-cut
arms were left bare. After the first glance, her lover lowered his
eyes, lest he should forget all else in gazing at her. But the blood
mounted silently to his cheeks and burned there. As for her,--she
trusted Balder more freely than herself.
Manetho was laid gently on the broad robe, and so upraised and borne
forwards; Balder at the head, Gnulemah at the foot. Heavy, heavy is a
lifeless body; but the man had cause to wonder at the woman's fresh
and easy strength. What a contrast was she to the disfigured creature
who hobbled moaning beside the litter, the relaxed hand clutched in
both hers, kissing it again and again with grotesque passion! Yet both
were women, and loved as women love.
The granite statues sitting serene at the doorway maintained the stony
calm which, only, deserves the name of supernatural. These passed, the
flowery heat of the dim conservatory brought them to Gnulemah's room.
The curtain was looped up and the passage clear. Thus first did the
wedded pair enter what should have been their bridal chamber, and laid
the lifeless body on the nuptial bed.
A fair, pure room; the clear walls frescoed with graceful wreaths of
floating figures. In the eastern window, through which the earliest
sunbeams loved to fall, stood an alabaster altar; on it a chain of
faded dandelions. The bed was a lovely nest, the lines flowing in long
curves,--a barge of Venus for lovers to voyage to heaven in. On a
table near at hand lay some embroidered work at which Gnulemah's magic
needle had been busy of late. Balder glanced at these things with a
reverence almost timid; and, turning back to what lay so inert and
doltish on the sacred bed, he could not but sigh.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|