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bitter feelings of despair and helplessness,what agonies unutterable did I endure in that long watch! Vainly did Iwish that I could have gathered all my life into one mass that I mightgive it all to her, and breathe into her chill remains the flame whichdevoured me. The night advanced, and feeling the moment of eternalseparation approach, I could not deny myself the last sad sweet pleasureof imprinting a kiss upon the dead lips of her who had been my onlylove.... Oh, miracle! A faint breath mingled itself with my breath, andthe mouth of Clarimonde responded to the passionate pressure of mine.Her eyes unclosed, and lighted up with something of their formerbrilliancy; she uttered a long sigh, and uncrossing her arms, passedthem around my neck with a look of ineffable delight. 'Ah, it is thou,Romuald!' she murmured in a voice languishingly sweet as the lastvibrations of a harp. 'What ailed thee, dearest? I waited so long forthee that I am dead; but we are now betrothed: I can see thee and visitthee. Adieu, Romuald, adieu! I love thee. That is all I wished totell thee, and I give thee back the life which thy kiss for a momentrecalled. We shall soon meet again.'
Her head fell back, but her arms yet encircled me, as though to retainme still. A furious whirlwind suddenly burst in the window, and enteredthe chamber. The last remaining leaf of the white rose for a momentpalpitated at the extremity of the stalk like a butterfly's wing, thenit detached itself and flew forth through the open casement, bearingwith it the soul of Clarimonde. The lamp was extinguished, and I fellinsensible upon the bosom of the beautiful dead.
When I came to myself again I was lying on the bed in my little room atthe presbytery, and the old dog of the former cure was licking myhand, which had been hanging down outside of the covers. Barbara, alltrembling with age and anxiety, was busying herself about the room,opening and shutting drawers, and emptying powders into glasses. Onseeing me open my eyes, the old woman uttered a cry of joy, the dogyelped and wagged his tail, but I was still so weak that I could notspeak a single word or make the slightest motion. Afterward I learnedthat I had lain thus for three days, giving no evidence of life beyondthe faintest respiration. Those three days do not reckon in my life, norcould I ever imagine whither my spirit had departed during those threedays; I have no recollection of aught relating to them. Barbara told methat the same coppery-complexioned man who came to seek me on the nightof my departure from the presbytery had brought me back the next morningin a close litter, and departed immediately afterward. When I becameable to collect my scattered thoughts, I reviewed within my mind all thecircumstances of that fateful night. At first I thought I had been thevictim of some magical illusion, but ere long the recollection of othercircumstances, real and palpable in themselves, came to forbid thatsupposition. I could not believe that I had been dreaming, since Barbaraas well as myself had seen the strange man with his two black horses,and described with exactness every detail of his figure and apparel.Nevertheless it appeared that none knew of any castle in theneighbourhood answering to the description of that in which I had againfound Clarimonde.
One morning I found the Abbe Serapion in my room. Barbara had advisedhim that I was ill, and he had come with all speed to see me. Althoughthis haste on his part testified to an affectionate interest in me, yethis visit did not cause me the pleasure which it should have done. TheAbbe Serapion had something penetrating and inquisitorial in hisgaze which made me feel very ill at ease. His presence filled me withembarrassment and a sense of guilt. At the first glance he divined myinterior trouble, and I hated him for his clairvoyance.
While he inquired after my health in hypocritically honeyed accents,he constantly kept his two great yellow lion-eyes fixed upon me, andplunged his look into my soul like a sounding-lead. Then he asked mehow I directed my parish, if I was happy in it, how I passed the leisurehours allowed me in the intervals of pastoral duty, whether I hadbecome acquainted with many of the inhabitants of the place, what was myfavourite reading, and a thousand other such questions. I answered theseinquiries as briefly as possible, and he, without ever waiting formy answers, passed rapidly from one subject of query to another. Thatconversation had evidently no connection with what he actually wished tosay. At last, without any premonition, but as though repeating a pieceof news which he had recalled on the instant, and feared might otherwisebe forgotten subsequently, he suddenly said, in a clear vibrant voice,which rang in my ears like the trumpets of the Last Judgment:
'The great courtesan Clarimonde died a few days ago, at the close ofan orgie which lasted eight days and eight nights. It was somethinginfernally splendid. The abominations of the banquets of Belshazzar andCleopatra were re-enacted there. Good God, what age are we living in?The guests were served by swarthy slaves who spoke an unknown tongue,and who seemed to me to be veritable demons. The livery of the veryleast among them would have served for the gala-dress of an emperor.There have always been very strange stories told of this Clarimonde, andall her lovers came to a violent or miserable end. They used to say thatshe was a ghoul, a female vampire; but I believe she was none other thanBeelzebub himself.'
He ceased to speak, and commenced to regard me more attentively thanever, as though to observe the effect of his words on me. I could notrefrain from starting when I heard him utter the name of Clarimonde, andthis news of her death, in addition to the pain it caused me by reasonof its coincidence with the nocturnal scenes I had witnessed, filledme with an agony and terror which my face betrayed, despite my utmostendeavours to appear composed. Serapion fixed an anxious and severelook upon me, and then observed: 'My son, I must warn you that you arestanding with foot raised upon the brink of an abyss; take heed lest youfall therein. Satan's claws are long, and tombs are not always true totheir trust. The tombstone of Clarimonde should be sealed down with atriple seal, for, if report be true, it is not the first time she hasdied. May God watch over you, Romuald!'
And with these words the Abbe walked slowly to the door. I did not seehim again at that time, for he left for S------ almost immediately.
I became completely restored to health and resumed my accustomed duties.The memory of Clarimonde and the words of the old Abbe were constantlyin my mind; nevertheless no extraordinary event had occurred to verifythe funereal predictions of Serapion, and I had commenced to believethat his fears and my own terrors were over-exaggerated, when onenight I had a strange dream. I had hardly fallen asleep when I heard mybed-curtains drawn apart, as their rings slided back upon the curtainrod with a sharp sound. I rose up quickly upon my elbow, and beheldthe shadow of a woman standing erect before me. I recognised Clarimondeimmediately. She bore in her hand a little lamp, shaped like those whichare placed in tombs, and its light lent her fingers a rosy transparency,which extended itself by lessening degrees even to the opaque and milkywhiteness of her bare arm. Her only garment was the linen winding-sheetwhich had shrouded her when lying upon the bed of death. She sought togather its folds over her bosom as though ashamed of being so scantilyclad, but her little hand was not equal to the task. She was so whitethat the colour of the drapery blended with that of her flesh underthe pallid rays of the lamp. Enveloped with this subtle tissue whichbetrayed all the contour of her body, she seemed rather the marblestatue of some fair antique bather than a woman endowed with life. Butdead or living, statue or woman, shadow or body, her beauty was stillthe same, only that the green light of her eyes was less brilliant, andher mouth, once so warmly crimson, was only tinted with a faint tenderrosiness, like that of her cheeks. The little blue flowers which I hadnoticed entwined in her hair were withered and dry, and had lost nearlyall their leaves, but this did not prevent her from being charming--socharming that, notwithstanding the strange character of the adventure,and the unexplainable manner in which she had entered my room, I feltnot even for a moment the least fear.
She placed the lamp on the table and seated herself at the foot of mybed; then bending toward me, she said, in that voice at once silveryclear and yet velvety in its sweet softness, such as I never heard fromany lips save hers:
'I have kept thee long in waiting, dear Romuald, and it must have seemedto thee that I had forgotten thee. But I come from afar off, very faroff, and from a land whence no other has ever yet returned. There isneither sun nor moon in that land whence I come: all is but space andshadow; there is neither road nor pathway: no earth for the foot, no airfor the wing; and nevertheless behold me here, for Love is stronger thanDeath and must conquer him in the end. Oh what sad faces and fearfulthings I have seen on my way hither! What difficulty my soul, returnedto earth through the power of will alone, has had in finding its bodyand reinstating itself therein! What terrible efforts I had to make ereI could lift the ponderous slab with which they had covered me! See, thepalms of my poor hands are all bruised! Kiss them, sweet love, that theymay be healed!' She laid the cold palms of her hands upon ray mouth, oneafter the other. I kissed them, indeed, many times, and she the whilewatched me with a smile of ineffable affection.
I
Her head fell back, but her arms yet encircled me, as though to retainme still. A furious whirlwind suddenly burst in the window, and enteredthe chamber. The last remaining leaf of the white rose for a momentpalpitated at the extremity of the stalk like a butterfly's wing, thenit detached itself and flew forth through the open casement, bearingwith it the soul of Clarimonde. The lamp was extinguished, and I fellinsensible upon the bosom of the beautiful dead.
When I came to myself again I was lying on the bed in my little room atthe presbytery, and the old dog of the former cure was licking myhand, which had been hanging down outside of the covers. Barbara, alltrembling with age and anxiety, was busying herself about the room,opening and shutting drawers, and emptying powders into glasses. Onseeing me open my eyes, the old woman uttered a cry of joy, the dogyelped and wagged his tail, but I was still so weak that I could notspeak a single word or make the slightest motion. Afterward I learnedthat I had lain thus for three days, giving no evidence of life beyondthe faintest respiration. Those three days do not reckon in my life, norcould I ever imagine whither my spirit had departed during those threedays; I have no recollection of aught relating to them. Barbara told methat the same coppery-complexioned man who came to seek me on the nightof my departure from the presbytery had brought me back the next morningin a close litter, and departed immediately afterward. When I becameable to collect my scattered thoughts, I reviewed within my mind all thecircumstances of that fateful night. At first I thought I had been thevictim of some magical illusion, but ere long the recollection of othercircumstances, real and palpable in themselves, came to forbid thatsupposition. I could not believe that I had been dreaming, since Barbaraas well as myself had seen the strange man with his two black horses,and described with exactness every detail of his figure and apparel.Nevertheless it appeared that none knew of any castle in theneighbourhood answering to the description of that in which I had againfound Clarimonde.
One morning I found the Abbe Serapion in my room. Barbara had advisedhim that I was ill, and he had come with all speed to see me. Althoughthis haste on his part testified to an affectionate interest in me, yethis visit did not cause me the pleasure which it should have done. TheAbbe Serapion had something penetrating and inquisitorial in hisgaze which made me feel very ill at ease. His presence filled me withembarrassment and a sense of guilt. At the first glance he divined myinterior trouble, and I hated him for his clairvoyance.
While he inquired after my health in hypocritically honeyed accents,he constantly kept his two great yellow lion-eyes fixed upon me, andplunged his look into my soul like a sounding-lead. Then he asked mehow I directed my parish, if I was happy in it, how I passed the leisurehours allowed me in the intervals of pastoral duty, whether I hadbecome acquainted with many of the inhabitants of the place, what was myfavourite reading, and a thousand other such questions. I answered theseinquiries as briefly as possible, and he, without ever waiting formy answers, passed rapidly from one subject of query to another. Thatconversation had evidently no connection with what he actually wished tosay. At last, without any premonition, but as though repeating a pieceof news which he had recalled on the instant, and feared might otherwisebe forgotten subsequently, he suddenly said, in a clear vibrant voice,which rang in my ears like the trumpets of the Last Judgment:
'The great courtesan Clarimonde died a few days ago, at the close ofan orgie which lasted eight days and eight nights. It was somethinginfernally splendid. The abominations of the banquets of Belshazzar andCleopatra were re-enacted there. Good God, what age are we living in?The guests were served by swarthy slaves who spoke an unknown tongue,and who seemed to me to be veritable demons. The livery of the veryleast among them would have served for the gala-dress of an emperor.There have always been very strange stories told of this Clarimonde, andall her lovers came to a violent or miserable end. They used to say thatshe was a ghoul, a female vampire; but I believe she was none other thanBeelzebub himself.'
He ceased to speak, and commenced to regard me more attentively thanever, as though to observe the effect of his words on me. I could notrefrain from starting when I heard him utter the name of Clarimonde, andthis news of her death, in addition to the pain it caused me by reasonof its coincidence with the nocturnal scenes I had witnessed, filledme with an agony and terror which my face betrayed, despite my utmostendeavours to appear composed. Serapion fixed an anxious and severelook upon me, and then observed: 'My son, I must warn you that you arestanding with foot raised upon the brink of an abyss; take heed lest youfall therein. Satan's claws are long, and tombs are not always true totheir trust. The tombstone of Clarimonde should be sealed down with atriple seal, for, if report be true, it is not the first time she hasdied. May God watch over you, Romuald!'
And with these words the Abbe walked slowly to the door. I did not seehim again at that time, for he left for S------ almost immediately.
I became completely restored to health and resumed my accustomed duties.The memory of Clarimonde and the words of the old Abbe were constantlyin my mind; nevertheless no extraordinary event had occurred to verifythe funereal predictions of Serapion, and I had commenced to believethat his fears and my own terrors were over-exaggerated, when onenight I had a strange dream. I had hardly fallen asleep when I heard mybed-curtains drawn apart, as their rings slided back upon the curtainrod with a sharp sound. I rose up quickly upon my elbow, and beheldthe shadow of a woman standing erect before me. I recognised Clarimondeimmediately. She bore in her hand a little lamp, shaped like those whichare placed in tombs, and its light lent her fingers a rosy transparency,which extended itself by lessening degrees even to the opaque and milkywhiteness of her bare arm. Her only garment was the linen winding-sheetwhich had shrouded her when lying upon the bed of death. She sought togather its folds over her bosom as though ashamed of being so scantilyclad, but her little hand was not equal to the task. She was so whitethat the colour of the drapery blended with that of her flesh underthe pallid rays of the lamp. Enveloped with this subtle tissue whichbetrayed all the contour of her body, she seemed rather the marblestatue of some fair antique bather than a woman endowed with life. Butdead or living, statue or woman, shadow or body, her beauty was stillthe same, only that the green light of her eyes was less brilliant, andher mouth, once so warmly crimson, was only tinted with a faint tenderrosiness, like that of her cheeks. The little blue flowers which I hadnoticed entwined in her hair were withered and dry, and had lost nearlyall their leaves, but this did not prevent her from being charming--socharming that, notwithstanding the strange character of the adventure,and the unexplainable manner in which she had entered my room, I feltnot even for a moment the least fear.
She placed the lamp on the table and seated herself at the foot of mybed; then bending toward me, she said, in that voice at once silveryclear and yet velvety in its sweet softness, such as I never heard fromany lips save hers:
'I have kept thee long in waiting, dear Romuald, and it must have seemedto thee that I had forgotten thee. But I come from afar off, very faroff, and from a land whence no other has ever yet returned. There isneither sun nor moon in that land whence I come: all is but space andshadow; there is neither road nor pathway: no earth for the foot, no airfor the wing; and nevertheless behold me here, for Love is stronger thanDeath and must conquer him in the end. Oh what sad faces and fearfulthings I have seen on my way hither! What difficulty my soul, returnedto earth through the power of will alone, has had in finding its bodyand reinstating itself therein! What terrible efforts I had to make ereI could lift the ponderous slab with which they had covered me! See, thepalms of my poor hands are all bruised! Kiss them, sweet love, that theymay be healed!' She laid the cold palms of her hands upon ray mouth, oneafter the other. I kissed them, indeed, many times, and she the whilewatched me with a smile of ineffable affection.
I