"Miserable woman, what wouldst thou do? Surely not commit murder?
Wouldst thou poison thy husband"s body and my soul? Every time I have thought of thee I have seen thee before me in the idealized form of my pure love of early days, and wilt thou now put horror and aversion in the place of it? Give me that prescription!"
With terrified, staring eyes, and trembling in every nerve, the woman fell down on her knees before me, and when I said to her: "Hitherto thou hast always had a place in my prayers, dost thou wish me to cast thee forth from my remembrance with curses?" she began to smile.
"_"Tis the first time in your life that you have "thou"d" me._ Let me then return the compliment. But no, I cannot _thou_ thee. The word _thou_ cannot come out of my mouth. Don"t lift me up. Let me kneel before you. I fain would only weep, but no tears will flow. Here is the prescription. Destroy it if you like. I was mad. I knew not what I said.
"Tis true. If life be grievous to me, "tis I who ought to die."
"What you now say is also a sin. Heaven does not give us that divine spark, the spirit, only that we may fling it back again. Learn to bear your sorrows in silence. Every one of us has his cross which G.o.d has laid upon him that he may carry it ... If you would believe in the saints, follow their example. _Be_ a martyr, if G.o.d so wills it--that is the _real_ Catholic faith...."
She began to sob, but after some little difficulty I contrived to pacify her. I also provided her with all sorts of good homely counsels. "A good wife," I said, "ought to humour her husband, and not sit in judgment on his faults." I told her to bring him to me and introduce me to him.
Perhaps I might make some impression on him, and prevail upon him not to press his crotchets too far. It was even possible that I might find him some work to do, something relating to spiritual subjects which might occupy his mind, kindle his ambition, and make him peel off his cynical husk. No doubt he was a good and worthy man, who only needed to be properly taken in hand to get on very well.
The lady with the eyes like the sea listened with many shakes of the head, but she had gradually grown much more quiet. Those eyes of hers, how they could express grat.i.tude! It really seemed as if, beneath the influence of my words, her face was recovering the rosy hue that it had lost.
Alas, no! Vain thought! "Twas not my words, but something else.
She arose and rallied her spirits.
"Very well! I"ll take your advice. I will endure. I will be patient. I will down with every evil thought. I will show that I can be a good wife. You shall be satisfied with me. But one thing I"ll tell you. My husband has threatened to strike me. If ever he does that, then G.o.d be merciful both to him and me."
Now I knew why her face had turned so red--"If my husband dishonours me by a single blow, I swear that I"ll seize a gun and shoot him dead!" And with that she rushed out of the room. I felt as if I ought to call after her: "Don"t go home, wretched woman!"
It was too late. She was already outside the door. She had vanished like a vision of the night.
CHAPTER XXI
MARIA NOSTRA.
Ah! what an ocean of time has pa.s.sed since this happened. It must be twenty years, at least. It makes me giddy when I look back upon it. But how many evil years there were, how many days that I do not love to think about! How many have been torn from my side to whom life was a joy and on whom the future smiled! And I still remain! Only here and there, now and again, perhaps, do I encounter a grey-headed shape like myself, a relic from that brilliant time, and what a joy it then is to look back upon those old days and say: "It is not so good now as it was then!"
Some years ago I was on a visit of inspection among our large national State prisons. I happened to be at Szamosujvar and Illava, where the aristocracy of crime is collected together, persons condemned to a term of imprisonment exceeding ten years, all of them criminals once under sentence of death, but reprieved by an act of grace. Here were interesting studies of the night side of human nature.
I also visited the Maria Nostra. Here the female criminals resided, and nuns were the warders.
This house of correction can only be visited by special permission of the Ministry.
There the discipline is strict, but the prisoners are very well treated.
Last of all we visited the day-room, where the prisoners were at work.
They all sat in a long room, and were sewing. Those who could do the finer sort of work were at little tables of their own. I stopped before one of such tables; a woman was sewing some sort of child"s garment. It is the rule that when a visitor stops before the table of one of the felons, she shall immediately rise from her seat and, whether asked or unasked, say what her crime is and how long her term of imprisonment.
She arose when I stood before her table.
Her hair was as white as autumn gossamers, but her eyes still flashed with their old varying fires--they were still, as of old, the flaming eyes like the sea! In a dull monotone she told me her crime and her sentence: "I killed my husband. I am condemned to imprisonment for life."
For life!--and life so long!
"Can I not use my interest in your favour?"
"I thank you, but it is well with me here. I wish for nothing more in this world."
And with that she returned to her place and went on with her work.
Poor little Bessy!
Last year I received a letter announcing her death. It was her last wish that I, but n.o.body else, should be informed of it.
THE END.
EYES LIKE THE SEA.
BY MAURUS JoKAI
12MO, CLOTH
A FEW COMMENTS OF THE ENGLISH PRESS
Half autobiographical, dramatic, and at the same time humorous, Jokai"s novel, crowned by the Hungarian Academy in 1860, is a delightful exception to the tendency which is fast making fiction a branch of science instead of art.--_Morning Post._
It is a strikingly original and powerful story ... The great charm of the book is the manner in which Jokai a.n.a.lyses Bessie"s character. All through the story indeed we feel ourselves in the presence of a master of the human heart, and again and again we come upon sentences pregnant with that wisdom which it is the lot of but few to acquire.--_Speaker._
From beginning to end "Eyes like the Sea" teems with entertaining matter and the English version is highly creditable to Mr. Nisbet Bain the translator of this sprightly autobiographical novel.--_Daily Telegraph._
"Eyes Like the Sea" is an alluring book into which to dip at random ...--_Academy._
"Eyes like the Sea" is one of those rare books that break all rules and defy criticism by justifying their irregularities.--_Guardian._
It is good to know too that fiction in Hungary has a master so hearty, so human, and so free at once from priggishness and _naturalism_.--_Sat.u.r.day Review._
In some respects the heroine reminds us of Becky Sharp and in others of Manon Lescaut, and in feminine dexterity and s.e.xual eccentricities is no unworthy mate for either.--_Athenaeum._
It is truly, as Mr. Bain remarks in his preface, a brilliant example of the now rare novel of incident and adventure ... The vigor of the book is astonishing.--_World._
The charm of the original as a work of art loses a good deal in the translation ... none the less the book is extremely interesting. It is a sketchy and vivacious summary of the more salient incidents in the political and literary career of the eminent Hungarian poet and romancist, its author.--_Literary World._
G. P. PUTNAM"S SONS NEW YORK AND LONDON