the law and the lady-第39章

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be　hereafter　mentioned）　the　one　remarkable　quality　that　I　could
discover　in　the　series　of　his　works。

The　first　of　the　Passion　pictures　illustrated　Revenge。　A　corpse；
in　fancy　costume；　lay　on　the　bank　of　a　foaming　river；　under　the
shade　of　a　giant　tree。　An　infuriated　man；　also　in　fancy　costume；
stood　astride　over　the　dead　body；　with　his　sword　lifted　to　the
lowering　sky；　and　watched；　with　a　horrid　expression　of　delight；
the　blood　of　the　man　whom　he　had　just　killed　dripping　slowly　in　a
procession　of　big　red　drops　down　the　broad　blade　of　his　weapon。
The　next　picture　illustrated　Cruelty；　in　many　compartments。　In
one　I　saw　a　disemboweled　horse　savagely　spurred　on　by　his　rider
at　a　bull…fight。　In　another；　an　aged　philosopher　was　dissecting　a
living　cat；　and　gloating　over　his　work。　In　a　third；　two　pagans
politely　congratulated　each　other　on　the　torture　of　two　saints：
one　saint　was　roasting　on　a　grid…iron；　the　other；　hung　up　to　a
tree　by　his　heels；　had　been　just　skinned；　and　was　not　quite　dead
yet。　Feeling　no　great　desire；　after　these　specimens；　to　look　at
any　more　of　the　illustrated　Passions；　I　turned　to　the　opposite
wall　to　be　instructed　in　the　career　of　the　Wandering　Jew。　Here　a
second　inscription　informed　me　that　the　painter　considered　the
Flying　Dutchman　to　be　no　other　than　the　Wandering　Jew；　pursuing
his　interminable　Journey　by　sea。　The　marine　adventures　of　this
mysterious　personage　were　the　adventures　chosen　for
representation　by　Dexter's　brush。　The　first　picture　showed　me　a
harbor　on　a　rocky　coast。　A　vessel　was　at　anchor；　with　the
helmsman　singing　on　the　deck。　The　sea　in　the　offing　was　black　and
rolling；　thunder…clouds　lay　low　on　the　horizon；　split　by　broad
flashes　of　lightning。　In　the　glare　of　the　lightning；　heaving　and
pitching；　appeared　the　misty　form　of　the　Phantom　Ship　approaching
the　shore。　In　this　work；　badly　as　it　was　painted；　there　were
really　signs　of　a　powerful　imagination；　and　even　of　a　poetical
feeling　for　the　supernatural。　The　next　picture　showed　the　Phantom
Ship；　moored　（to　the　horror　and　astonishment　of　the　helmsman）
behind　the　earthly　vessel　in　the　harbor。　The　Jew　had　stepped　on
shore。　His　boat　was　on　the　beach。　His　crewlittle　men　with
stony；　white　faces；　dressed　in　funeral　blacksat　in　silent　rows
on　the　seats　of　the　boat；　with　their　oars　in　their　lean；　long
hands。　The　Jew；　also　a　black；　stood　with　his　eyes　and　hands
raised　imploringly　to　the　thunderous　heaven。　The　wild　creatures
of　land　and　seathe　tiger；　the　rhinoceros；　the　crocodile；　the
sea…serpent；　the　shark；　and　the　devil…fishsurrounded　the
accursed　Wanderer　in　a　mystic　circle；　daunted　and　fascinated　at
the　sight　of　him。　The　lightning　was　gone。　The　sky　and　sea　had
darkened　to　a　great　black　blank。　A　faint　and　lurid　light　lighted
the　scene；　falling　downward　from　a　torch；　brandished　by　an
avenging　Spirit　that　hovered　over　the　Jew　on　outspread　vulture
wings。　Wild　as　the　picture　might　be　in　its　conception；　there　was
a　suggestive　power　in　it　which　I　confess　strongly　impressed　me。
The　mysterious　silence　in　the　house；　and　my　strange　position　at
the　moment；　no　doubt　had　their　effect　on　my　mind。　While　I　was
still　looking　at　the　ghastly　composition　before　me；　the　shrill
trilling　sound　of　the　whistle　upstairs　burst　on　the　stillness。
For　the　moment　my　nerves　were　so　completely　upset　that　I　started
with　a　cry　of　alarm。　I　felt　a　momentary　impulse　to　open　the　door
and　run　out。　The　idea　of　trusting　myself　alone　with　the　man　who
had　painted　those　frightful　pictures　actually　terrified　me；　I　was
obliged　to　sit　down　on　one　of　the　hall　chairs。　Some　minutes
passed　before　my　mind　recovered　its　balance；　and　I　began　to　feel
like　my　own　ordinary　self　again。　The　whistle　sounded　impatiently
for　the　second　time。　I　rose　and　ascended　the　broad　flight　of
stairs　which　led　to　the　first　story。　To　draw　back　at　the　point
which　I　had　now　reached　would　have　utterly　degraded　me　in　my　own
estimation。　Still；　my　heart　did　certainly　beat　faster　than　usual
as　I　approached　the　door　of　the　circular　anteroom；　and　I　honestly
acknowledge　that　I　saw　my　own　imprudence；　just　then；　in　a
singularly　vivid　light。

There　was　a　glass　over　the　mantel…piece　in　the　anteroom。　I
lingered　for　a　moment　（nervous　as　I　was）　to　see　how　I　looked　in
the　glass。

The　hanging　tapestry　over　the　inner　door　had　been　left　partially
drawn　aside。　Softly　as　I　moved；　the　dog's　ears　of　Miserrimus
Dexter　caught　the　sound　of　my　dress　on　the　floor。　The　fine　tenor
voice；　which　I　had　last　heard　singing；　called　to　me　softly。

〃Is　that　Mrs。　Valeria？　Please　don't　wait　there。　Come　in！〃

I　entered　the　inner　room。

The　wheeled　chair　advanced　to　meet　me；　so　slowly　and　so　softly
that　I　hardly　knew　it　again。　Miserrimus　Dexter　languidly　held　out
his　hand。　His　head　inclined　pensively　to　one　side；　his　large　blue
eyes　looked　at　me　piteously。　Not　a　vestige　seemed　to　be　left　of
the　raging；　shouting　creature　of　my　first　visit；　who　was　Napoleon
at　one　moment；　and　Shakespeare　at　another。　Mr。　Dexter　of　the
morning　was　a　mild；　thoughtful；　melancholy　man；　who　only　recalled
Mr。　Dexter　of　the　night　by　the　inveterate　oddity　of　his　dress。
His　jacket；　on　this　occasion；　was　of　pink　quilted　silk。　The
coverlet　which　hid　his　deformity　matched　the　jacket　in　pale
sea…green　satin；　and；　to　complete　these　strange　vagaries　of
costume；　his　wrists　were　actually　adorned　with　massive　bracelets
of　gold；　formed　on　the　severely　simple　models　which　have
descended　to　us　from　ancient　times。

〃How　good　of　you　to　cheer　and　charm　me　by　coming　here！〃　he　said；
in　his　most　mournful　and　most　mu　sical　tones。　〃I　have　dressed；
expressly　to　receive　you；　in　the　prettiest　clothes　I　have。　Don't
be　surprised。　Except　in　this　ignoble　and　material　nineteenth
century；　men　have　always　worn　precious　stuffs　and　beautiful
colors　as　well　as　women。　A　hundred　years　ago　a　gentleman　in　pink
silk　was　a　gentleman　properly　dressed。　Fifteen　hundred　years　ago
the　patricians　of　the　classic　times　wore　bracelets　exactly　like
mine。　I　despise　the　brutish　contempt　for　beauty　and　the　mean
dread　of　expense　which　degrade　a　gentleman's　costume　to　black
cloth；　and　limit　a　gentleman's　ornaments　to　a　finger…ring；　in　the
age　I　live　in。　I　like　to　be　bright　and　I　beautiful；　especially
when　brightness　and　beauty　come　to　see　me。　You　don't　know　how
precious　your　society　is　to　me。　This　is　one　of　my　melancholy
days。　Tears　rise　unbidden　to　my　eyes。　I　sigh　and　sorrow　over
myself；　I　languish　for　pity。　Just　think　of　what　I　am！　A　poor
solitary　creature；　cursed　with　a　frightful　deformity。　How
pitiable！　how　dreadful！　My　affectionate　heartwasted。　My
extraordinary　talentsuseless　or　misapplied。　Sad！　sad！　sad！
Please　pity　me。〃

His　eyes　were　positively　filled　with　tearstears　of　compassion
for　himself！　He　looked　at　me　and　spoke　to　me　with　the　wailing；
querulous　entreaty　of　a　sick　child　wanting　to　be　nursed。　I　was
utterly　at　a　loss　what　to　do。　It　was　perfectly　ridiculousbut　I
was　never　more　embarrassed　in　my　life。

〃Please　pity　me！〃　he　repeated。　〃Don't　be　cruel。　I　only　ask　a
little　thing。　Pretty　Mrs。　Valeria；　say　you　pity　me！〃

I　said　I　pitied　himand　I　felt　that　I　blushed　as　I　did　it。

〃Thank　you；〃　said　Miserrimus　Dexter；　humbly。　〃It　does　me　good。　Go
a　little　further。　Pat　my　hand。〃

I　tried　to　restrain　myself；　but　the　sense　of　the　absurdity　of
this　last　petition　（quite　gravely　addressed　to　me；　remember！）　was
too　strong　to　be　controlled。　I　burst　out　laughing。

Miserrimus　Dexter　looked　at　me　with　a　blank　astonishment　which
only　increased　my　merriment。　Had　I　offended　him？　Apparently　not。
Recovering　from　his　astonishment；　he　laid　his　head　luxuriously　on
the　back　of　his　chair；　with　the　expression　of　a　man　who　was
listening　critically　to　a　performance　of　some　sort。　When　I　had
quite　exhausted　myself；　he　raised　his　head　and　clapped　his
shapely　white　hands；　and　honored　me　with　an　〃encore。〃

〃Do　it　again；〃　he　said；　still　in　the　same　childish　way。　〃Merry
Mrs。　Valeria；　_you_　have　a　musical　laugh_I_　have　a　musical　ear。
Do　it　again。〃

I　was　serious　enough　by　this　time。　〃I　am　ashamed　of　myself；　Mr。
Dexter；〃　I　said。　〃Pray　forgive　me。〃

He　made　no　answer　to　this；　I　doubt　if　he　heard　me。　His　variable
temper　appeared　to　be　in　course　of　undergoing　some　new　change。　He
sat　looking　at　my　dress　（as　I　supposed）　with　a　steady　and　anxious
attention；　gravely　forming　his　own　conclusions；　steadfastly
pursuing　his　own　train　of　thought。

〃Mrs。　Valeria；〃　he　burst　out　suddenly；　〃you　are　not　comfortable
in　that　chair。〃

〃Pardon　me；〃　I　replied；　〃I　am　quite　comfortable。〃

〃Pardon　_me；_〃　he　rejoined。　〃There　is　a　chair　of　Indian
basket…work　at　that　end　of　the　room　which　is　much　better　suited
to　you。　Will　you　accept　my　apologies　if　I　am　rude　enough　to　allow
you　to　fetch　it　for　yourself？　I　have　a　reason。〃

He　had　a　reason！　What　new　piece　of　eccentricity　was　he　about　to
exhibit？　I　rose　and　fetched　the　chair。　It　was　light　enough　to　be
quite　easily　carried。　As　I　returned　to　him；　I　noticed　that　his
eyes　were　strangely　employed　in　what　seemed　to　be　the　closest
scrutiny　of　my　dress。　And；　stranger　still；　the　result　of　this
appeared　to　be　partly　to　interest　and　partly　to　distress　him。

I　placed　the　chair　near　him；　and　was　about　to　take　my　seat　in　it；
when　he　sent　me　back　again；　on　another　errand；　to　the　end　of　the
room。

〃Oblige　me　indescribably；〃　he　said。　〃There　is　a　hand…screen
hanging　on　the　wall；　which　matches　the　chair。　We　are　rather　near
the　fire　here。　You　may　find　the　screen　useful。　Once　more　forgive
me　for　letting　you　fetch　it　for　yourself。　Once　more　let　me　assure
you　that　I　have　a　reason。〃

Here　was　his　〃reason；〃　reiterated；　emphatically　reiterated；　for
the　second　time！　Curiosity　made　me　as　completely　the　obedient
servant　of　his　caprices　as　Ariel　herself。　I　fetched　the
hand…screen。　Returning　with　it；　I　met　his　eyes　still　fixed　with
the　same　incomprehensible　attention　on　my　perfectly　plain　and
unpretending　dress；　and　still　expressing　the　same　curious　mixture
of　interest　and　regret。

〃Thank　you　a　thousand　times；〃　he　said。　〃You　have　（quite
innocently）　wrung　my　heart。　But　you　have　not　the　less　done　me　an
inestimable　kindness。　Will　you　promise　not　to　be　offended　with　me
if　I　confess　the　truth？〃

He　was　approaching　his　explanation　I　never　gave　a　promise　more
readily　in　my　life。

〃I　have　rudely　allowed　you　to　fetch　your　chair　and　your　screen
for　yourself；〃　he　went　on。　〃My　motive　will　seem　a　very　strange
one；　I　am　afraid。　Did　you　observe　that　I　noticed　you　very
attentivelytoo　attentively；　perhaps？〃

〃Yes；〃　I　said。　〃I　thought　you　were　noticing　my　dress。〃

He　shook　his　head；　and　sighed　bitterly。

〃Not　your　dress；〃　he　said；　〃and　not　your　face。　Your　dress　is
dark。　Your　face　is　still　strange　to　me。　Dear　Mrs。　Valeria；　I
wanted　to　see　you　walk。〃

To　see　me　walk！　What　did　he　mean？　Where　was　that　erratic　mind　of
his　wandering　to　now？

〃You　have　a　rare　accomplishment　for　an　Englishwoman；〃　he
resumed〃you　walk　well。　_She_　walked　well。　I　couldn't　resist　the
temptation　of　seeing　her　again；　in　seeing　you。　It　was　_her_
movement；　_her_　sweet；　simple；　unsought　grace　（not　yours）；　when
you　walked　to　the　end　of　the　room　and　returned　to　me。　You　raised
her　from　the　dead　when　you　fetched　the　chair　and　the　screen。
Pardon　me　for