CHAPTER XXIX. LOUIS MOORE.

utinousforheaven,tooinnocentforhell,nevershallIdomorethansee,andworship,andwishforthee.Alas!knowingIcouldmaketheehappy,willitbemydoomtoseetheepossessedbythosewhohavenotthatpower? "Howeverkindlythehand,ifitisfeeble,itcannotbendShirleyandshemustbebent.Itcannotcurbherandshemustbecurbed. "Beware,SirPhilipNunnely!Ineverseeyouwalkingorsittingatherside,andobserveherlipscompressed,orherbrowknit,inresoluteenduranceofsometraitofyourcharacterwhichsheneitheradmiresnorlikes,indeterminedtolerationofsomeweaknessshebelievesatonedforbyavirtue,butwhichannoysherdespitethatbeliefInevermarkthegraveglowofherface,theunsmilingsparkleofhereye,theslightrecoilofherwholeframewhenyoudrawalittletoonear,andgazealittletooexpressively,andwhisperalittletoowarmly—IneverwitnessthesethingsbutIthinkofthefableofSemelereversed. "ItisnotthedaughterofCadmusIsee,nordoIrealizeherfatallongingtolookonJoveinthemajestyofhisgod-head.ItisapriestofJunothatstandsbeforeme,watchinglateandloneatashrineinanArgivetemple.Foryearsofsolitaryministryhehaslivedondreams.Thereisdivinemadnessuponhim.Helovestheidolheserves,andpraysdayandnightthathisfrenzymaybefed,andthattheOx-eyedmaysmileonhervotary.Shehasheardshewillbepropitious.AllArgosslumbers.Thedoorsofthetempleareshutthepriestwaitsatthealtar. "Ashockofheavenandearthisfelt—notbytheslumberingcity,onlybythatlonelywatcher,braveandunshakeninhisfanaticism.Inthemidstofsilence,withnopreludingsound,heiswrappedinsuddenlight.Throughtheroof,throughtherent,wide-yawning,vast,white-blazingblueofheavenabove,poursawondrousdescent,dreadasthedownrushingofstars.Hehaswhatheasked.Withdraw—forbeartolook—Iamblinded.Ihearinthatfaneanunspeakablesound.WouldthatIcouldnothearit!Iseeaninsufferablegloryburningterriblybetweenthepillars.Godsbemercifulandquenchit! "ApiousArgiveenterstomakeanearlyofferinginthecooldawnofmorning.Therewasthunderinthenighttheboltfellhere.Theshrineisshivered,themarblepavementroundsplitandblackened.Saturnia'sstatueriseschaste,grand,untouchedatherfeetpiledashesliepale.Nopriestremainshewhowatchedwillbeseennomore. "Thereisthecarriage!Letmelockupthedeskandpocketthekeys.Shewillbeseekingthemto-morrowshewillhavetocometome.Ihearher:'Mr.Moore,haveyouseenmykeys?' "Soshewillsay,inherclearvoice,speakingwithreluctance,lookingashamed,consciousthatthisisthetwentiethtimeofasking.Iwilltantalizeher,keepherwithme,expecting,doubtingandwhenIdorestorethem,itshallnotbewithoutalecture.Hereisthebag,too,andthepursetheglove—pen—seal.Sheshallwringthemalloutofmeslowlyandseparately—onlybyconfession,penitence,entreaty.Inevercantouchherhand,oraringletofherhead,oraribbonofherdress,butIwillmakeprivilegesformyself.Everyfeatureofherface,herbrighteyes,herlips,shallgothrougheachchangetheyknow,formypleasure—displayeachexquisitevarietyofglanceandcurve,todelight,thrill,perhapsmorehopelesslytoenchainme.IfImustbeherslave,Iwillnotlosemyfreedomfornothing." Helockedthedesk,pocketedalltheproperty,andwent.