by M. P. Shiel
arm, forefinger on trigger, looking at her. I sawher glance once at the weapon, and then she fixed her eyes upwards uponmy face: and now that same smile, which had disappeared, was on her lipsagain, meaning confidence, meaning disdain.
I waited for her to open her mouth to say something--to stop thatsmile--that I might shoot her quick and sudden: and she would not,knowing that I could not kill her while she was smiling; and suddenly,all my pity and love for her changed into a strange resentment and rageagainst her, for she was purposely making hard for me what I was doingfor her sake: and the bitter thought was in my mind: 'You are nothing tome: if you want to die, you do your own killing; and I will do my ownkilling.' And without one word to her, I strode away, and left herthere.
I see now that this whole drawing of lots was nothing more than a farce:I never could have killed her, smiling, or no smiling: for to each thingand man is given a certain strength: and a thing cannot be stronger thanits strength, strive as it may: it is so strong, and no stronger, andthere is an end of the matter.
I walked up to the Grand Bailli's _bureau_, a room about twenty-fivefeet from the ground. By this time it was getting pretty dark, but Icould see, by peering, the face of a grandfather's-clock which I hadlong since set going, and kept wound. It is on the north side of theroom, over the writing-desk opposite the oriels. It then pointed tohalf-past six, and in order to fix some definite moment for the bittereffort of the mortal act, I said: 'At Seven.' I then locked the doorwhich opens upon three little steps near the desk, and also thestair-door; and I began to pace the chamber. There was not a breath ofair here, and I was hot; I seemed to be stifling, tore open my shirt atthe throat, and opened the lower half of the central mullion-space ofone oriel. Some minutes later, at twenty-five to seven, I lit twocandles on the desk, and sat to write to her, the pistol at my righthand; but I had hardly begun, when I thought that I heard a sound at thethree-step door, which was only four feet to my left: a sound whichresembled a scraping of her slipper; I stole to the door, and crouched,listening: but I could hear nothing further. I then returned to thedesk, and set to writing, giving her some last directions for her life,telling her why I died, how I loved her, much better than my own soul,begging her to love me always, and to live on to please me, but if she_would_ die, then to be sure to die near me. Tears were pouring down myface, when, turning, I saw her standing in a terrified pose hardly twofeet behind me. The absolute stealth which had brought and put herthere, unknown to me, was like miracle: for the ladder, whose top I sawintruding into the open oriel, I knew well, having often seen it in aroom below, and its length was quite thirty feet, nor could its weightbe trifling: yet I had heard not one hint of its impact upon the window.But there, at all events, she was, wan as a ghost.
Immediately, as my consciousness realised her, my hand instinctivelywent out to secure the weapon: but she darted upon it, and was aninstant before me. I flew after her to wrench it away, but she flew,too: and before I caught her, had thrown it cleanly through two rungs ofthe ladder and the window. I dashed to the window, and after a hurriedpeer thought that I saw it below at the foot of a rock; away I flew tothe stair-door, wrung open the lock, and down the stairs, three at atime, I ran to recover it. I remember being rather surprised that shedid not follow, forgetting all about the ladder.
But with a horrid shock I was reminded of it the moment I reached thebottom, before ever I had passed from the house: for I heard the reportof the weapon--that crack, my God! and crying out: 'Well, Lord, she hasdied for me, then!' I tottered forward, and tumbled upon her, where shelay under the incline of the ladder in her blood.
* * * * *
That night! what a night it was! of fingers shivering with haste, ofharum-scarum quests and searches, of groans, and piteous appeals to God.For there were no surgical instruments, lint, anaesthetics, norantiseptics that I knew of in the Chateau; and though I knew of a housein Montreux where I could find them, the distance was quite infinite,and the time an eternity in which to leave her all alone, bleeding todeath; and, to my horror, I remembered that there was barely enoughpetrol in the motor, and the store usually kept in the house exhausted.However, I did it, leaving her there unconscious on her bed: but _how_ Idid it, and lived sane afterwards, that is another matter.
If I had not been a medical man, she must, I think, have died: for thebullet had broken the left fifth rib, had been deflected, and I foundit buried in the upper part of the abdominal wall. I did not go from herbed-side: I did not sleep, though I nodded and staggered: for all thingswere nothing to me, but her: and for a frightfully long time sheremained comatose. While she was still in this state I took her to achalet beyond Villeneuve, three miles away on the mountain-side, ahomely, but very salubrious place which I knew, imbedded in verdures,for I was desperate at her long collapse, and had hope in the higherair. And there after three more days, she opened her eyes, and smiledwith me.
It was then that I said to myself: 'This is the noblest, sagest, andalso the most loveable, of the creatures whom God has made in heaven orearth. She has won my life, and I will live.... But at least, to savemyself, I will put the broadest Ocean that there is between her and me:for I wish to be a decent being, for the honour of my race, being thelast, and to turn out trumps ... though I do love my dear, Godknows....'
And thus, after only fifty-five days at the chalet, were we forced stillfurther Westward.
* * * * *
I wished her to remain at Chillon, intending, myself, to start for theAmericas, whence any sudden impulse to return to her could not beeasily accomplished: but she refused, saying that she would come with meto the coast of France: and I could not say her no.
And at the coast, after thirteen days we arrived, three days before theNew Year, traversing France by steam, air, and petrol traction.
We came to Havre--infirm, infirm of will that I was: for in my deepheart was the secret, hidden away from my own upper self, that, shebeing at Havre, and I at Portsmouth, we could still speak together.
We came humming into the dark town of Havre in a four-seat motor-carabout ten in the evening of the 29th December: a raw bleak night, she,it was clear, poor thing, bitterly cramped with cold. I had somerecollection of the place, for I had been there, and drove to the quays,near which I stopped at the _Maire's_ large house, a palatial placeoverlooking the sea, in which she slept, I occupying another near.
The next morning I was early astir, searched in the _mairie_ for a mapof the town, where I also found a _Bottin_: I could thus locate theTelephone Exchange. In the _Maire's_ house, which I had fixed upon to beher home, the telephone was set up in an alcove adjoining a very stately_salon_ Louis Quinze; and though I knew that these little dry batterieswould not be run down in twenty odd years, yet, fearing any weakness, Ibroke open the box, and substituted a new one from the Company's storestwo streets away, at the same time noting the exchange-number of theinstrument. This done, I went down among the ships by the wharves, andfixed upon the first old green air-boat that seemed fairly sound, brokeopen a near shop, procured some buckets of oil, and by three o'clock hadtested and prepared my ship. It was a dull and mournful day, drizzling,chilly. I returned then to the _mairie_, where for the first time I sawher, and she was heavy of heart that day: but when I broke the news thatshe would be able to speak to me, every day, all day, first she was allincredulous astonishment, then, for a moment, her eyes turned white toHeaven, then she was skipping like a kid. We were together threeprecious hours, examining the place, and returning with stores ofwhatever she might require, till I saw darkness coming on, and we wentdown to the ship.
And when those long-dead screws awoke and moved, bearing me toward theOuter Basin, I saw her stand darkling, lonely, on the Quai throughheart-rending murk and drizzly inclemency: and oh my God, the gloomyunder-look of those red eyes, and the piteous out-push of that littlelip, and the hurried burying of that face! My heart broke, for I had notgiven her even one little, last kiss, and she had been so goo
d, quietlyacquiescing, like a good wife, not attempting to force her presence uponme in the ship; and I left her there, all widowed, alone on theContinent of Europe, watching after me: and I went out to the bleak anddreary fields of the sea.
* * * * *
Arriving at Portsmouth the next morning, I made my residence in thefirst house in which I found an instrument, a spacious dwelling facingthe Harbour Pier. I then hurried round to the Exchange, which is on theHard near the Docks, a large red building with facings of Cornishmoor-stone, a bank on the ground-floor, and the Exchange on the first.Here I plugged her number on to mine, ran back, rang--and, to my greatthanksgiving, heard her speak. (This instrument, however, did not provesatisfactory: I broke the box, and put in another battery, and still thevoice was muffled: finally, I furnished the middle room at the Exchangewith a truckle-bed, stores, and a few things, and here have taken upresidence.)
I