The Sorrows of Satan. Мария Корелли

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СКАЧАТЬ know I have come at an awkward moment,” he said—“I always do! It is my peculiar misfortune. Well-bred people never intrude where they are not wanted,—and in this particular I’m afraid my manners leave much to be desired. Try to forgive me if you can, for the sake of this,”—and he held out a letter addressed to me in my friend Carrington’s familiar handwriting. “And permit me to sit down while you read my credentials.”

      He took a chair and seated himself. I observed his handsome face and easy attitude with renewed admiration.

      “No credentials are necessary,” I said with all the cordiality I now really felt—“I have already had a letter from Carrington in which he speaks of you in the highest and most grateful terms. But the fact is–well!—really, prince, you must excuse me if I seem confused or astonished … I had expected to see quite an old man …”

      And I broke off, somewhat embarrassed by the keen glance of the brilliant eyes that met mine so fixedly.

      “No one is old, my dear sir, nowadays!” he declared lightly—“even the grandmothers and grandfathers are friskier at fifty than they were at fifteen. One does not talk of age at all now in polite society,—it is ill-bred, even coarse. Indecent things are unmentionable—age has become an indecent thing. It is therefore avoided in conversation. You expected to see an old man you say? Well, you are not disappointed—I am old. In fact you have no idea how very old I am!”

      I laughed at this piece of absurdity.

      “Why, you are younger than I,”—I said—“or if not, you look it.”

      “Ah, my looks belie me!” he returned gaily—“I am like several of the most noted fashionable beauties,—much riper than I seem. But come, read the introductory missive I have brought you,—I shall not be satisfied till you do.”

      Thus requested, and wishing to prove myself as courteous as I had hitherto been brusque, I at once opened my friend’s note and read as follows,—

      Dear Geoffrey.

      The bearer of this, Prince Rimânez, is a very distinguished scholar and gentleman, allied by descent to one of the oldest families in Europe, or for that matter, in the world. You, as a student and lover of ancient history, will be interested to know that his ancestors were originally princes of Chaldea, who afterwards settled in Tyre,—from thence they went to Etruria and there continued through many centuries, the last scion of the house being the very gifted and genial personage who, as my good friend, I have the pleasure of commending to your kindest regard. Certain troublous and overpowering circumstances have forced him into exile from his native province, and deprived him of a great part of his possessions, so that he is, to a considerable extent a wanderer on the face of the earth, and has travelled far and seen much, and has a wide experience of men and things. He is a poet and musician of great skill, and though he occupies himself with the arts solely for his own amusement, I think you will find his practical knowledge of literary matters eminently useful to you in your difficult career. I must not forget to add that in all matters scientific he is an absolute master. Wishing you both a cordial friendship, I am, dear Geoffrey,

Yours sincerelyJohn Carrington.

      The signature of ‘Boffles’ had evidently been deemed out of place this time and somehow I was foolishly vexed at its omission. There seemed to be something formal and stiff in the letter, almost as if it had been written to dictation, and under pressure. What gave me this idea I know not. I glanced furtively at my silent companion,—he caught my stray look and returned it with a curiously grave fixity. Fearing lest my momentary vague distrust of him had been reflected in my eyes I made haste to speak—

      “This letter, prince, adds to my shame and regret that I should have greeted you in so churlish a manner this evening. No apology can condone my rudeness,—but you cannot imagine how mortified I felt and still feel, to be compelled to receive you in this miserable den,—it is not at all the sort of place in which I should have liked to welcome you…” And I broke off with a renewed sense of irritation, remembering how actually rich I now was, and that in spite of this, I was obliged to seem poor. Meanwhile the prince waived aside my remarks with a light gesture of his hand.

      “Why be mortified?” he demanded. “Rather be proud that you can dispense with the vulgar appurtenances of luxury. Genius thrives in a garret and dies in a palace,—is not that the generally accepted theory?”

      “Rather a worn-out and mistaken one I consider,”—I replied; “Genius might like to try the effect of a palace for once,—it usually dies of starvation.”

      “True!—but in thus dying, think how many fools it afterwards fattens! There is an all-wise Providence in this, my dear sir! Schubert perished of want,—but see what large profits all the music-publishers have made since out of his compositions! It is a most beautiful dispensation of nature,—that honest folk should be sacrificed in order to provide for the sustenance of knaves!”

      He laughed, and I looked at him in a little surprise. His remark touched so near my own opinions that I wondered whether he were in jest or earnest.

      “You speak sarcastically of course?” I said—“You do not really believe what you say?”

      “Oh, do I not!” he returned, with a flash of his fine eyes that was almost lightning-like in its intensity—“If I could not believe the teaching of my own experience, what would be left to me? I always realize the ‘needs must’ of things—how does the old maxim go—‘needs must when the devil drives.’ There is really no possible contradiction to offer to the accuracy of that statement. The devil drives the world, whip in hand,—and oddly enough, (considering that some belated folk still fancy there is a God somewhere) succeeds in managing his team with extraordinary ease!” His brow clouded and the bitter lines about his mouth deepened and hardened,—anon he laughed again lightly and continued—“But let us not moralize,—morals sicken the soul both in church and out of it,—every sensible man hates to be told what he could be and what he won’t be. I am here to make friends with you if you permit,—and to put an end to ceremony, will you accompany me back to my hotel where I have ordered supper?”

      By this time I had become indescribably fascinated by his easy manner, handsome presence and mellifluous voice,—the satirical turn of his humour suited mine,—I felt we should get on well together,—and my first annoyance at being discovered by him in such poverty-stricken circumstances somewhat abated.

      “With pleasure!” I replied—“But first of all, you must allow me to explain matters a little. You have heard a good deal about my affairs from my friend John Carrington, and I know from his private letter to me that you have come here out of pure kindness and goodwill. For that generous intention I thank you! I know you expected to find a poor wretch of a literary man struggling with the direst circumstances of disappointment and poverty,—and a couple of hours ago you would have amply fulfilled that expectation. But now, things have changed,—I have received news which completely alters my position,—in fact I have had a very great and remarkable surprise this evening…”

      “An agreeable one I trust?” interposed my companion suavely.

      I smiled.

      “Judge for yourself!” And I handed him the lawyer’s letter which informed me of my suddenly acquired fortune.

      He glanced it through rapidly,—then folded and returned it to me with a courteous bow.

      “I suppose I should congratulate you,”—he said—“And I do. Though of course this wealth which seems to content you, to me appears a mere trifle. It can be quite conveniently run through and exhausted СКАЧАТЬ