CHAPTER XXXVIII. CLOUD.

farewell,orhewouldvanishmute,andbeseenbyusnevermore. Thisalternativeseemedtobepresentinthemindofnotalivingcreatureinthatschool.Allroseattheusualhourallbreakfastedasusualall,withoutreferenceto,orapparentthoughtoftheirlateProfessor,betookthemselveswithwontedphlegmtotheirordinaryduties. Soobliviouswasthehouse,sotame,sotraineditsproceedings,soinexpectantitsaspect—Iscarceknewhowtobreatheinanatmospherethusstagnant,thussmothering.Wouldnoonelendmeavoice?Hadnooneawish,nooneaword,nooneaprayertowhichIcouldsay—Amen? Ihadseenthemunanimousindemandforthemeresttrifle—atreat,aholiday,alesson’sremissiontheycouldnot,theywouldnotnowbandtobesiegeMadameBeck,andinsistonalastinterviewwithaMasterwhohadcertainlybeenloved,atleastbysome—lovedastheycouldlove—but,oh!whatistheloveofthemultitude? Iknewwherehelived:Iknewwherehewastobeheardof,orcommunicatedwiththedistancewasscarceastone’s-throw:haditbeeninthenextroom—unsummoned,Icouldmakenouseofmyknowledge.Tofollow,toseekout,toremind,torecall—forthesethingsIhadnofaculty. M.Emanuelmighthavepassedwithinreachofmyarm:hadhepassedsilentandunnoticing,silentandstirlessshouldIhavesufferedhimtogoby. Morningwasted.Afternooncame,andIthoughtallwasover.Myhearttrembledinitsplace.Mybloodwastroubledinitscurrent.Iwasquitesick,andhardlyknewhowtokeepatmypost—ordomywork.Yetthelittleworldroundmeploddedonindifferentallseemedjocund,freeofcare,orfear,orthought:theverypupilswho,sevendayssince,hadwepthystericallyatastartlingpieceofnews,appearedquitetohaveforgottenthenews,itsimport,andtheiremotion. Alittlebeforefiveo’clock,thehourofdismissal,MadameBecksentformetoherchamber,toreadoverandtranslatesomeEnglishlettershehadreceived,andtowriteforhertheanswer.Beforesettlingtothiswork,Iobservedthatshesoftlyclosedthetwodoorsofherchambersheevenshutandfastenedthecasement,thoughitwasahotday,andfreecirculationofairwasusuallyregardedbyherasindispensable.Whythisprecaution?Akeensuspicion,analmostfiercedistrust,suggestedsuchquestion.Didshewanttoexcludesound?whatsound? IlistenedasIhadneverlistenedbeforeIlistenedliketheeveningandwinter-wolf,snuffingthesnow,scentingprey,andhearingfaroffthetraveller’stramp.YetIcouldbothlistenandwrite.AboutthemiddleoftheletterIheard—whatcheckedmypen—atreadinthevestibule.Nodoor-bellhadrungRosine—actingdoubtlessbyorders—hadanticipatedsuchréveillée.Madamesawmehalt.Shecoughed,madeabustle,spokelouder.Thetreadhadpassedontotheclasses. “Proceed,”saidMadamebutmyhandwasfettered,myearenchained,mythoughtswerecarriedoffcaptive. Theclassesformedanotherbuildingthehallpartedthemfromthedwelling-house:despitedistanceandpartition,Iheardthesuddenstirofnumbers,awholedivisionrisingatonce. “Theyareputtingawaywork,”saidMadame. Itwasindeedthehourtoputawaywork,butwhythatsuddenhush—thatinstantquellofthetumult? “Wait,Madame—Iwillseewhatitis.” AndIputdownmypenandlefther.Lefther?No:shewouldnotbeleft:powerlesstodetainme,sheroseandfollowed,closeasmyshadow.Iturnedonthelaststepofthestair. “Areyoucoming,too?”Iasked. “Yes,”saidshemeetingmyglancewithapeculiaraspect—alook,clouded,yetresolute. Weproceededthen,nottogether,butshewalkedinmysteps. Hewascome.Enteringthefirstclasse,Isawhim.There,oncemoreappearedtheformmostfamiliar.Idoubtnottheyhadtriedtokeephimaway,buthewascome. Thegirlsstoodinasemicirclehewaspassinground,givinghisfarewells,pressingeachhand,touchingwithhislipseachcheek.Thislastceremony,foreigncustompermittedatsuchaparting—sosolemn,tolastsolong. IfeltithardthatMadameBeckshoulddogmethusfollowingandwatchingmeclosemyneckandshouldershrunkinfeverunderherbreathIbecameterriblygoaded. Hewasapproachingthesemicirclewasalmosttravelledroundhecametothelastpupilheturned.ButMadamewasbeforemeshehadsteppedoutsuddenlysheseemedtomagnifyherproportionsandamplifyherdraperysheeclipsedmeIwashid.Sheknewmyweaknessanddeficiencyshecouldcalculatethedegreeofmoralparalysis—thetotaldefaultofself-assertion—withwhich,inacrisis,Icouldbestruck.Shehastenedtoherkinsman,shebrokeuponhimvolubly,shemasteredhisattention,shehurriedhimtothedoor—theglass-dooropeningonthegarden.IthinkhelookedroundcouldIbuthavecaughthiseye,courage,Ithink,wouldhaverushedintoaidfeeling,andtherewouldhavebeenacharge,and,perhaps,arescuebutalreadytheroomwasallconfusion,thesemicirclebrokenintogroups,myfigurewaslostamongthirtymoreconspicuous.Madamehadherwillyes,shegothimaway,andhehadnotseenmehethoughtmeabsent.Fiveo’clockstruck,thelouddismissal-bellrang,theschoolseparated,theroomemptied. Thereseems,tomymemory,anentiredarknessanddistractioninsomecertainminutesIthenpassedalone—agriefinexpressibleoveralossunendurable.WhatshouldIdooh!whatshouldIdowhenallmylife’shopewasthustornbytherootsoutofmyriven,outragedheart? WhatIshouldhavedone,Iknownot,whenalittlechild—theleastchildintheschool—brokewithitssimplicityanditsunconsciousnessintotheragingyetsilentcentreofthatinwardconflict. “Mademoiselle,”lispedthetreblevoice,“Iamtogiveyouthat.M.PaulsaidIwastoseekyoualloverthehouse,fromthegreniertothecellar,andwhenIfoundyou,togiveyouthat.” Andthechilddeliveredanotethelittledovedroppedonmyknee,itsoliveleafpluckedoff.Ifoundneitheraddressnorname,onlythesewords:— “ItwasnotmyintentiontotakeleaveofyouwhenIsaidgood-bytotherest,butIhopedtoseeyouinclasse.Iwasdisappointed.Theinterviewisdeferred.Bereadyforme.EreIsail,Imustseeyouatleisure,andspeakwithyouatlength.Bereadymymomentsarenumbered,and,justnow,monopolizedbesides,IhaveaprivatebusinessonhandwhichIwillnotsharewithany,norcommunicate—eventoyou.—PAUL.” “Beready?”Thenitmustbethisevening:washenottogoonthemorrow?YesofthatpointIwascertain.Ihadseenthedateofhisvessel’sdepartureadvertised.Oh!Iwouldbeready,butcouldthatlonged-formeetingreallybeachieved?thetimewassoshort,theschemersseemedsowatchful,soactive,sohostilethewayofaccessappearedstraitasagully,deepasachasm—Apollyonstraddledacrossit,breathingflames.CouldmyGreatheartovercome?Couldmyguidereachme? Whomighttell?YetIbegantotakesomecourage,somecomfortitseemedtomethatIfeltapulseofhisheartbeatingyettruetothewholethrobofmine. Iwaitedmychampion.ApollyoncametrailinghisHellbehindhim.IthinkifEternityheldtorment,itsformwouldnotbefieryrack,noritsnaturedespair.Ithinkthatonacertaindayamongstthosedayswhichneverdawned,andwillnotset,anangelenteredHades—stood,shone,smiled,deliveredaprophecyofconditionalpardon,kindledadoubtfulhopeofblisstocome,notnow,butatadayandhourunlookedfor,revealedinhisowngloryandgrandeurtheheightandcompassofhispromise:spokethus—thentowering,becameastar,andvanishedintohisownHeaven.Hislegacywassuspense—aworseboonthandespair. AllthateveningIwaited,trustinginthedove-sentolive-leaf,yetinthemidstofmytrust,terriblyfearing.Myfearpressedheavy.Coldandpeculiar,Iknewitforthepartnerofararely-beliedpresentiment.ThefirsthoursseemedlongandslowinspiritIclungtotheflyingskirtsofthelast.Theypassedlikedriftcloud—likethewrackscuddingbeforeastorm. Theypassed.Allthelong,hotsummerdayburnedawaylikeaYule-logthecrimsonofitscloseperishedIwasleftbentamongthecoolblueshades,overthepaleandashengleamsofitsnight. Prayerswereoveritwasbed-timemyco-inmateswereallretired.Istillremainedinthegloomyfirstclasse,forgetting,oratleastdisregarding,rulesIhadneverforgottenordisregardedbefore. HowlongIpacedthatclasseIcannottellImusthavebeenafootmanyhoursmechanicallyhadImovedasidebenchesanddesks,andhadmadeformyselfapathdownitslength.ThereIwalked,andthere,whencertainthatthewholehouseholdwereabed,andquiteoutofhearing—there,Iatlastwept.ReliantonNight,confidinginSolitude,Ikeptmytearssealed,mysobschained,nolongertheyheavedmyhearttheytoretheirway.Inthishouse,whatgriefcouldbesacred? Soonaftereleveno’clock—averylatehourintheRueFossette—thedoorunclosed,quietlybutnotstealthilyalamp’sflameinvadedthemoonlightMadameBeckentered,withthesamecomposedair,asifcomingonanordinaryoccasion,atanordinaryseason.Insteadofatonceaddressingme,shewenttoherdesk,tookherkeys,andseemedtoseeksomething:sheloiteredoverthisfeignedsearchlong,toolong.Shewascalm,toocalmmymoodscarceenduredthepretencedrivenbeyondcommonrange,twohourssinceIhadleftbehindmewontedrespectsandfears.Ledbyatouch,andruledbyaword,underusualcircumstances,noyokecouldnowbeborne—nocurbobeyed. “Itismorethantimeforretirement,”saidMadame“theruleofthehousehasalreadybeentransgressedtoolong.” Madamemetnoanswer:Ididnotcheckmywalkwhenshecameinmyway,Iputheroutofit. “Letmepersuadeyoutocalm,Meessletmeleadyoutoyourchamber,”saidshe,tryingtospeaksoftly. “No!”Isaid“neitheryounoranothershallpersuadeorleadme.” “Yourbedshallbewarmed.Gotonissittingupstill.Sheshallmakeyoucomfortable:sheshallgiveyouasedative.” “Madame,”Ibrokeout,“youareasensualist.Underallyourserenity,yourpeace,andyourdecorum,youareanundeniedsensualist.Makeyourownbedwarmandsofttakesedativesandmeats,anddrinksspicedandsweet,asmuchasyouwill.Ifyouhaveanysorrowordisappointment—and,perhaps,youhave—nay,Iknowyouhave—seekyourownpalliatives,inyourownchosenresources.Leaveme,however.Leaveme,Isay!” “Imustsendanothe