"Calm yourself," he made answer. "I know what I owe you. We two are yoked together.... We are both bound to hold our tongues; that is an understood thing."
There was a pause. Then Felicitas asked in a trembling voice--
"Can you pray, Leo?"
He gazed at her in shocked amazement. "Pray, indeed! It"s well for those who can. But I have sneaked out of the Almighty"s way, like my dog Leo sneaks out of my way when he has torn a fowl to pieces."
"You ought to try," she said, with her most pious expression "It has done wonders for me lately.... I confide all my yearning to the merciful ear of the Saviour, and----"
"Yearning? Yearning for what?" he asked.
She smiled in confusion. "Really, you ought to pray," she repeated.
"Indeed!"
"Perhaps our Lord is only inflicting this trial on us as a test of our faith, and we shall come through it glorified. It may be that it is part of His system of salvation to----"
"Tell me," he broke in, aghast, "have you been calling on Brenckenberg?"
"G.o.d forbid!" she cried. "I am horribly afraid of him."
"Or perhaps on Johanna?"
"No," she answered, colouring; "Johanna has been to see me."
"Ah, indeed."
"Don"t be so hard. I bless the day that led me to her arms, for she has shown me the way to the Cross."
"How often has she been here?"
"Three times."
"And you have made yourself over to her body and soul?"
She shook her head with a smile. "I have only done that for one person in the world," she said. "There is much that I cannot speak of to her, but her influence has been of infinite benefit to me."
He gazed before him meditatively.
She rose and came close to his chair. "Do you know, Leo," she said, with a dreamy smile, "it would be so nice if we prayed together."
"What do you mean?"
She was embarra.s.sed. "I mean, if we took our common trouble to the Father...."
"Heavens! You think that would improve matters?"
She sighed. "It would be so beautiful," she whispered.
"How do you propose to do it?" he asked. "Shall we kneel down side by side on the carpet?"
She half laughed, and flushed deeper. "You are a heathen," she pouted, sitting down again, "and scoff at the most sacred things."
"Make your mind easy, dear child," he said seriously. "I have long ago lost the humour for scoffing."
"Well, then, you can at least pray for me, as I pray for you."
"Do you really do that?" he asked, while a feeling of grat.i.tude stirred gently within him.
She nodded shamefacedly, and cast her eyes on her lap. "It is the utmost I can do," she murmured.
Again there was silence. Their eyes met and rested in each other"s depths. A sweet, silent sympathy seemed to hover between them like a mysterious vapour. At this moment Leo did not feel the chafing of his chains. The thoughts of both went back to their past.
"We were too happy," breathed Felicitas, "that is why we must suffer so much now."
He did not answer. After the manner of man, he retained less grateful remembrances than she did of the bliss that had been theirs.
She became doubtful "Or perhaps you were not happy?" she asked.
He nodded, for, against his will, he was falling a victim to old memories.
She gazed at him with fixed eyes, her hands pressed hard against her forehead.
"Why did things turn out so?" she whispered. "Why could we not be strong, and resist the temptation?"
"Why? There is no "why" in the matter. We were young and hot-headed and foolish, and we thought of nothing.... I, for my part, wonder now how I could have seemed so sagacious to myself, and not cried out to the whole world, "See, what a dog I am. I have an affair with a woman ... a married woman!""
"But at first, in the beginning ... how did you feel?" she asked.
"What? In the beginning?"
"When you ... first ... guessed my love."
"When ... ah, you mean that night?"
"Do you still remember it?" she asked, leaning over to him. A pink flame leapt up in her cheeks, her glance swam in dreamy reminiscence.
"How can such things be forgotten?" he replied, frowning and smiling at the same time. "One must carry them to the grave."
"And as you rode home ... that night ... what did you think about?"
"You are always asking what I thought," he answered, while visions of that hour mounted to his brain and made him hot "I rode on and on, as if I were drunk. Every moment I expected to fall out of the saddle. And when I came to my own meadows, I drew in the roan. You remember it was the old roan then, with the white feet. I tethered him to a meadow-hurdle, and flung myself on the gra.s.s. It must have been nearly two o"clock, but it was a very close, sultry night; just a streak of red dawn was already in the sky. There I lay, asking myself, "Is it possible? Can you really have experienced it? Are there such hours to be lived on earth?" And the roan grazed all the time, and round about was the new-mown hay. That got into one"s senses, ay, it was enough to drive one mad...."
A soft cry escaped her lips. She had thrown her head back over the side of the chair, the blue veins stood out on her throat, her breast heaved tumultuously, and, with both hands pressed to her heart, she lay gasping for breath.
"What is the matter with you?" he asked, in much concern, for he feared a repet.i.tion of that scene.
"Nothing--nothing. It is only my stupid heart, nothing else."