CHAPTER XIII. A SNEEZE OUT OF SEASON.

boardersputtheirbooksaway. WhenIvanished—itwasintodarknesscandleswerenotallowedtobecarriedabout,andtheteacherwhoforsooktherefectory,hadonlytheunlithall,schoolroom,orbedroom,asarefuge.InwinterIsoughtthelongclasses,andpacedthemfasttokeepmyselfwarm—fortunateifthemoonshone,andiftherewereonlystars,soonreconciledtotheirdimgleam,oreventothetotaleclipseoftheirabsence.Insummeritwasneverquitedark,andthenIwentup-stairstomyownquarterofthelongdormitory,openedmyowncasement(thatchamberwaslitbyfivecasementslargeasgreatdoors),andleaningout,lookedforthuponthecitybeyondthegarden,andlistenedtoband-musicfromtheparkorthepalace-square,thinkingmeantimemyownthoughts,livingmyownlife,inmyownstill,shadow-world. Thisevening,fugitiveasusualbeforethePopeandhisworks,Imountedthestaircase,approachedthedormitory,andquietlyopenedthedoor,whichwasalwayskeptcarefullyshut,andwhich,likeeveryotherdoorinthishouse,revolvednoiselesslyonwell-oiledhinges.BeforeIsaw,Ifeltthatlifewasinthegreatroom,usuallyvoid:notthattherewaseitherstirorbreath,orrustleofsound,butVacuumlacked,Solitudewasnotathome.Allthewhitebeds—the“litsd’ange,”astheywerepoeticallytermed—layvisibleataglanceallwereempty:nosleeperreposedtherein.Thesoundofadrawercautiouslyslidoutstruckmyearsteppingalittletooneside,myvisiontookafreerange,unimpededbyfallingcurtains.Inowcommandedmyownbedandmyowntoilet,withalockedwork-boxuponit,andlockeddrawersunderneath. Verygood.Adumpy,motherlylittlebody,indecentshawlandthecleanestofpossiblenightcaps,stoodbeforethistoilet,hardatworkapparentlydoingmethekindnessof“tidyingout”the“meuble.”Openstoodthelidofthework-box,openthetopdrawerdulyandimpartiallywaseachsucceedingdraweropenedinturn:notanarticleoftheircontentsbutwasliftedandunfolded,notapaperbutwasglancedover,notalittleboxbutwasunliddedandbeautifulwastheadroitness,exemplarythecarewithwhichthesearchwasaccomplished.Madamewroughtatitlikeatruestar,“unhastingyetunresting.”IwillnotdenythatitwaswithasecretgleeIwatchedher.HadIbeenagentlemanIbelieveMadamewouldhavefoundfavourinmyeyes,shewassohandy,neat,thoroughinallshedid:somepeople’smovementsprovokethesoulbytheirlooseawkwardness,hers—satisfiedbytheirtrimcompactness.Istood,inshort,fascinatedbutitwasnecessarytomakeanefforttobreakthisspellaretreatmustbebeaten.Thesearchermighthaveturnedandcaughtmetherewouldhavebeennothingforitthenbutascene,andsheandIwouldhavehadtocomeallatonce,withasuddenclash,toathoroughknowledgeofeachother:downwouldhavegoneconventionalities,awaysweptdisguises,andIshouldhavelookedintohereyes,andsheintomine—weshouldhaveknownthatwecouldworktogethernomore,andpartedinthislifeforever. Wherewastheuseoftemptingsuchacatastrophe?Iwasnotangry,andhadnowishintheworldtoleaveher.Icouldhardlygetanotheremployerwhoseyokewouldbesolightandso,easyofcarriageandtrulyIlikedMadameforhercapitalsense,whateverImightthinkofherprinciples:astohersystem,itdidmenoharmshemightworkmewithittoherheart’scontent:nothingwouldcomeoftheoperation.Loverlessandinexpectantoflove,Iwasassafefromspiesinmyheart-poverty,asthebeggarfromthievesinhisdestitutionofpurse.Iturned,then,andfleddescendingthestairswithprogressasswiftandsoundlessasthatofthespider,whichatthesameinstantrandownthebannister. HowIlaughedwhenIreachedtheschoolroom.IknewnowshehadcertainlyseenDr.JohninthegardenIknewwhatherthoughtswere.Thespectacleofasuspiciousnaturesofarmisledbyitsowninventions,tickledmemuch.Yetasthelaughdied,akindofwrathsmoteme,andthenbitternessfollowed:itwastherockstruck,andMeribah’swatersgushingout.IneverhadfeltsostrangeandcontradictoryaninwardtumultasIfeltforanhourthatevening:sorenessandlaughter,andfire,andgrief,sharedmyheartbetweenthem.Icriedhottears:notbecauseMadamemistrustedme—Ididnotcaretwopenceforhermistrust—butforotherreasons.Complicated,disquietingthoughtsbrokeupthewholer