"This is, indeed, a joyful surprise. You are certainly more reliable than Henry. Accept my cordial thanks, which I have not time to reiterate. I generally prefer to owe my happiness entirely to Gertrude; but in this instance I can bear to receive it through the medium of your hands. As you are so prompt and trusty, I may trouble you to carry my answer."

The carriage rolled on, leaving a cloud of dust which the evening sunshine converted into a glittering track of glory, and seating herself on a gra.s.sy bank, Edna leaned her head against the body of a tree; and all the glory pa.s.sed swiftly away, and she was alone in the dust.

As the sun went down, the pillared forest aisles stretching westward, filled first with golden haze, then glowed with a light redder than Phthiotan wine poured from the burning beaker of the sun; and only the mournful cooing of doves broke the solemn silence as the pine organ whispered its low coranach for the dead day; and the cool shadow of coming night crept, purple-mantled, velvet- sandaled, down the forest glades.

"Oh! if I had gone away a week ago! before I knew there was any redeeming charity in his sinful nature! If I could only despise him utterly, it would be so much easier to forget him. Ah! G.o.d pity me!

G.o.d help me! What right have I to think of Gertrude's lover-- Gertrude's husband! I ought to be glad that he is n.o.bler than I thought, but I am not! Oh! I am not! I wish I had never known the good that he has done. Oh, Edna Earl! has it come to this? How I despise--how I hate myself!"

Rising, she shook back her thick hair, pa.s.sed her hands over her hot temples, and stood listening to the distant whistle of a partridge-- to the plaint of the lonely dove nestled among the pine boughs high above her; and gradually a holy calm stole over her face, fixing it as the merciful touch of death stills features that have long writhed in mortal agony. Into her struggling heart entered a strength which comes only when weary, wrestling, honest souls turn from human sympathy, seek the hallowed cloisters of Nature and are folded tenderly in the loving arms of Mother Cybele, who "never did betray the heart that loved her."

"Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, And the round ocean and the living air, And the blue sky * * * 'Tis her privilege, Through all the years of this our life, to lead From joy to joy, for she can so inform The mind that is within us, so impress With quietness and beauty, and so feed With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, Nor greetings where no kindness is--nor all The dreary intercourse of daily life, Shall e'er prevail against us or disturb Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold Is full of blessing"

To her dewy altars among the mountains of Gilead fled Jephthah's daughter, in the days when she sought for strength to fulfill her father's battle-vow; and into her pitying starry eyes looked stricken Rizpah, from those dreary rocks where love held faithful vigil, guarding the bleaching bones of her darling dead, sacrificed for the sins of Saul.

CHAPTER XXII.

"Mrs. Andrews writes that I must go on with as little delay as possible, and I shall start early Monday morning, as I wish to stop one day at Chattanooga."

Edna rose and took her hat from the study table, and Mr. Hammond asked:

"Do you intend to travel alone?"

"I shall be compelled to do so, as I know of no one who is going on to New York. Of course, I dislike very much to travel alone, but in this instance I do not see how I can avoid it."

"Do not put on your hat--stay and spend the evening with me."

"Thank you, sir, I want to go to the church and practice for the last time on the organ. After to-morrow, I may never sing again in our dear choir. Perhaps I may come back after awhile and stay an hour or two with you."

During the past year she had accustomed herself to practising every Sat.u.r.day afternoon the hymns selected by Mr. Hammond for the services of the ensuing day, and for this purpose had been furnished by the s.e.xton with a key, which enabled her to enter the church whenever inclination prompted. The church-yard was peaceful and silent as the pulseless dust in its numerous sepulchres; a beautiful red-bird sat on the edge of a marble vase that crowned the top of one of the monuments, and leisurely drank the water which yesterday's clouds had poured there, and a rabbit nibbled the leaves of a cl.u.s.ter of pinks growing near a child's grave.

Edna entered the cool church, went up into the gallery and sat down before the organ. For some time the low, solemn tones whispered among the fluted columns that supported the gallery, and gradually swelled louder and fuller and richer as she sang:

"Cast thy burden on the Lord."

Her sweet, well-trained voice faltered more than once, and tears fell thick and fast on the keys. Finally she turned and looked down at the sacred spot where she had been baptized by Mr. Hammond, and where she had so often knelt to receive the sacrament of the Lord's Supper.

The church was remarkably handsome and certainly justified the pride with which the villagers exhibited it to all strangers. The ma.s.sive mahogany pew-doors were elaborately carved and surmounted by small crosses; the tall, arched windows were of superb stained gla.s.s, representing the twelve apostles; the floor and bal.u.s.trade of the altar, and the grand Gothic pillared pulpit, were all of the purest white marble; and the capitals of the airy, elegant columns of the same material, that supported the organ gallery, were ornamented with rich grape-leaf moulding; while the large window behind and above the pulpit contained a figure of Christ bearing his Cross--a n.o.ble copy of the great painting of Solario, at Berlin.

As the afternoon sun shone on the gla.s.s, a flood of ruby light fell from the garments of Jesus upon the glittering marble beneath, and the nimbus that radiated around the crown of thorns caught a glory that was dazzling.

With a feeling of adoration that no language could adequately express, Edna had watched and studied this costly painted window for five long years; had found a marvellous fascination in the pallid face stained with purplish blood-drops; in the parted lips quivering with human pain and anguish of spirit; in the unfathomable, divine eyes that pierced the veil and rested upon the Father's face. Not all the sermons of Bossuet, or Chalmers, or Jeremy Taylor, or Melville, had power to stir the great deeps of her soul like one glance at that pale, thorn-crowned Christ, who looked in voiceless woe and sublime resignation over the world he was dying to redeem.

To-day she gazed up at the picture of Emmanuel till her eyes grew dim with tears, and she leaned her head against the mahogany railing and murmured sadly:

"'And he that taketh not his cross, and followeth after me, is not worthy of me!' Strengthen me, O my Saviour! so that I neither faint nor stagger under mine!"

The echo of her words died away among the arches of the roof, and all was still in the sanctuary. The swaying of the trees outside of the windows threw now a golden shimmer, then a violet shadow over the gleaming altar pavement; and the sun sunk lower, and the nimbus faded, and the wan Christ looked ghastly and toil-spent.

"Edna! My darling! my darling!"

The pleading cry, the tremulous, tender voice so full of pathos, rang startlingly through the silent church, and the orphan sprang up and saw Mr. Murray standing at her side, with his arms extended toward her, and a glow on his face and a look in his eyes which she had never seen there before.

She drew back a few steps and gazed wonderingly at him; but he followed, threw his arm around her, and, despite her resistance, strained her to his heart.

"Did you believe that I would let you go? Did you dream that I would see my darling leave me, and go out into the world to be buffeted and sorely tried, to struggle with poverty--and to suffer alone? Oh, silly child! I would part with my own life sooner than give you up!

Of what value would it be without you, my pearl, my sole hope, my only love, my own, pure Edna--"

"Such language you have no right to utter, and I none to hear! It is dishonorable in you and insulting to me. Gertrude's lover can not, and shall not, address such words to me. Unwind your arms instantly!

Let me go!"

She struggled hard to free herself, but his clasp tightened, and as he pressed her face against his bosom, he threw his head back and laughed:

"'Gertrude's lover!' Knowing my history, how could you believe that possible? Am I, think you, so meek and forgiving a spirit as to turn and kiss the hand that smote me? Gertrude's lover! Ha! ha!! Your jealousy blinds you, my--"

"I know nothing of your history; I have never asked; I have never been told one word! But I am not blind, I know that you love her, and I know, too, that she fully returns your affection. If you do not wish me to despise you utterly, leave me at once."

He laughed again, and put his lips close to her ear, saying softly, tenderly--ah! how tenderly:

"Upon my honor as a gentleman, I solemnly swear that I love but one woman; that I love her as no other woman ever was loved; with a love that pa.s.ses all language; a love that is the only light and hope of a wrecked, cursed, unutterably miserable life; and that idol which I have set up in the lonely gray ruins of my heart is Edna Earl!"

"I do not believe you! You have no honor! With the touch of Gertrude's lips and arms still on yours, you come to me and dare to perjure yourself! Oh, Mr. Murray! Mr. Murray! I did not believe you capable of such despicable dissimulation! In the catalogue of your sins, I never counted deceit. I thought you too proud to play the hypocrite. If you could realize how I loathe and abhor you, you would get out of my sight! You would not waste time in words that sink you deeper and deeper in shameful duplicity. Poor Gertrude! How entirely you mistake your lover's character! How your love will change to scorn and detestation!"

In vain she endeavored to wrench away his arm, a band of steel would have been as flexible; but St. Elmo's voice hardened, and Edna felt his heart throb fiercely against her cheek as he answered:

"When you are my wife you will repent your rash words, and blush at the remembrance of having told your husband that he was devoid of honor. You are piqued and jealous, just as I intended you should be; but, darling, I am not a patient man, and it frets me to feel you struggling so desperately in the arms that henceforth will always enfold you. Be quiet and hear me, for I have much to tell you. Don't turn your face away from mine, your lips belong to me. I never kissed Gertrude in my life, and so help me G.o.d, I never will! Hear-- "

"No! I will hear nothing! Your touch is profanation. I would sooner go down into my grave, out there in the churchyard, under the granite slabs, than become the wife of a man so unprincipled. I am neither piqued nor jealous, for your affairs cannot affect my life; I am only astonished and mortified and grieved. I would sooner feel the coil of a serpent around my waist than your arms."

Instantly they fell away. He crossed them on his chest, and his voice sank to a husky whisper, as the wind hushes itself just before the storm breaks.

"Edna, G.o.d is my witness that I am not deceiving you; that my words come from the great troubled depths of a wretched heart. You said you knew nothing of my history. I find it more difficult to believe you than you to credit my declarations. Answer one question: Has not your pastor taught you to distrust me? Can it be possible that no hint of the past has fallen from his lips?"

"Not one unkind word, not one syllable of your history has he uttered. I know no more of your past than if it were buried in mid- ocean."

Mr. Murray placed her in one of the cushioned chairs designed for the use of the choir, and leaning back against the railing of the gallery, fixed his eyes on Edna's face.

"Then it is not surprising that you distrust me, for you know not my provocation. Edna, will you be patient? Will you go back with me over the scorched and blackened track of an accursed and sinful life? It is a hideous waste I am inviting you to traverse! Will you?"

"I will hear you, Mr. Murray, but nothing that you can say will justify your duplicity to Gertrude, and--"

"D--n Gertrude! I ask you to listen, and suspend your judgment till you know the circ.u.mstances."

He covered his eyes with his hand, and in the brief silence she heard the ticking of his watch.