For the Blood Is the Life. Francis Marion Crawford

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СКАЧАТЬ her. Why should she wish to marry again?"

      "If she is young, why should her whole life be ruined by being tied to a brute? Why may she not be happy with some one else?"

      "Because if you make it possible for her, you make it possible for the next woman, who perhaps was treated badly, but less badly than the first — and then it is possible for another who had hardly suffered at all, and at last it is possible for .every man or woman who chances for a moment to prefer some other person to his or her wife or husband. It is not that in some cases it would not be a positive good; it is that the remedy you provide for such cases soon ends by creating cases in very great numbers, because the remedy is an agreeable one."

      "Yes — but it is very hard for the woman who is ill-treated, all the same," said Lady Brenda, unwilling to relinquish her defence.

      "Very — I agree with you," replied the king. " I made many women unhappy in that way myself. If the whole world, in regard to marriage, were directed by one sublimely wise individual, who should be really able to judge when divorce is just and necessary and to dictate the terms of it, the institution would be a good and wise one. All government is but an attempt to combine the best faculties of the many into such a working shape as may represent the imaginary action of one sublimely wise individual. Hitherto the attempt has never wholly succeeded. The government of the many has never been so good as that of one or two exceptionally good and talented autocrats who have really lived. Owing to the rarity of such individuals it is found that, as a whole, it is better to adopt the form of government by the many, where at least there is some sort of balance maintained between the bad and the good sides of human nature. I myself believed in myself so much that I founded the autocratic despotism of the kings of France, when the Parliament gave their verdict in accordance with my instructions against Charles de Bourbon. It was the first thoroughly autocratic act accomplished by a French monarch, and but for Louis de Breze, Diane's husband, it would not have been brought about, as you probably know. It was no wonder that I pardoned her father, when her husband saved me from destruction. I pardoned almost every one concerned in the conspiracy except the Constable himself. Fortunately he was killed in the storming of Rome, or he would still have given me trouble. He had the devil in his body, and would have given me no peace. Madame d'Etampes would have helped him, and did, as she afterwards helped the emperor, out of sheer hatred for Madame de Breze."

      "So I have heard," said Lady Brenda. " It is an instance of the advantages your majesty obtained from the connection with Madame d'Etampes."

      "To carry out your theory, madam, I should have divorced Eleonora, and married Anne in the face of the emperor. The result would have been startling."

      " Yes. Madame d'Etampes would have been satisfied and you would have had her for a friend instead of an enemy. Only — according to my theory, the divorce should have been demanded by the queen, and not by your majesty. At all events the treaty of Crespy would never have been signed."

      "It would have been a pity if it had not been signed, though no one could have foreseen that," answered the king. " Madame d'Etampes wanted to make a great man of my poor boy Charles at the expense of his brother, out of spite against Diane de Poitiers, by marrying him to the emperor's daughter or niece, as the emperor pleased; and to obtain this she persuaded the emperor to relinquish finally his claims upon Burgundy. Charles died, and the marriage never took place, but Burgundy remained French, and Henry ultimately overcame the emperor in at least one campaign, though he failed in others. Had he taken my advice about the Guise he might have done better. His prospects were not injured by anything I did, nor by the peace of Crespy. It is not fair to impute his failures to Madame d'Etampes, however much she tried to do him injury. She was not successful, or she would not have been obliged to leave the court after my death."

      "Poor woman!" exclaimed Lady Brenda. "It must have been very hard for her to leave it all! However, she had laid up a very pretty fortune."

      "An she' never loved me in the least. She was not to be pitied, for she got all she wanted in this world."

      "No. I pity Francoise far more," answered Lady Brenda. " You say you never see her now ? "

      "Never — I have sought her long," said the king, sadly. His whole manner changed from a tone of half cynical, half buoyant good-humour to the expression of a profound sadness, as indeed occurred every time he mentioned the ill-fated countess. " You cannot imagine," he continued, " how the thought of her dominates me, nor how hopeless is the passion of a dead man for a dead woman. It is a result, such a love, and it is irreparable, as results most often are. You who live and love cannot know what it is to love only when the body is in the grave, long crumbled into dust, and to love without hope. You who can still repair your mistakes, you cannot realise what it is to exist where there is no reparation. You who lightly forget, or remember only when it is convenient, you cannot guess at the agony of a state where you must perpetually remember everything and be conscious of the shame of a fault for centuries at a time."

      "Would it be any relief for you to see her now ? "

      "Yes," answered Francis, thoughtfully, "I think it would be a relief. I may be wrong, but I fancy I should be more peaceful if I could hear her say she forgave me. Perhaps she would not say it."

      "I don't know," said Lady Brenda,. "I think she would. It may be possible to bring about a meeting now, owing to these astral things, or whatever Augustus calls them. I will ask him."

      The king was silent and seemed deep in thought. The sun had long disappeared and as they talked the twilight deepened into night, the broad water turned black and grey in streaks and bands, and then at last all black, while one by one the stars shone out above as though angels were lighting the candles at the altars of heaven. The soft land breeze floated down from the mountains and whispered over the terrace, and stirred the thin lace which Lady Brenda had thrown over her head and about her neck. The dead king sat motionless by her side, his head sunk on his breast, his great white hands clasped together upon one knee. Lady Brenda was thinking that the party stayed long upon their excursion and was wishing that they would return; and then her thoughts came back in ready sympathy to the being by her side, to his sufferings and regrets, his overwhelming memories of the past and his slender hopes for the future.

      As they sat there side by side a woman in a black mantle came slowly towards them across the terrace, her long mourning garments trailing noiselessly behind her. The dark hood had fallen back from her head, and the light from the open windows of the drawing-room fell full upon her fair and pale young face. Slowly and noiselessly she came forward, but though the king did not look up, he seemed to feel her presence, and his hands twisted each other, while his broad chest heaved with excitement.

      She came and stood before him, a frail, fair, blueeyed woman with a sorrowful face and dishevelled golden hair, and she looked down on the dead king's bent head. Suddenly he sprang to his feet and threw out his arms as though he would have clasped her in them. But she drew swiftly back from him and faced him, looking sadly into his eyes.

      "Ah, sire," she cried in a strange, heart-broken voice, " why were you so unkind, so cruel to me ? "

      "Francoise, for the love of Heaven forgive me ! " groaned the wretched spirit, stretching out his white hands towards the woman.

      "Forgive you ? " she echoed, sadly. " Is that all? I forgave you long ago. It is not all — to forgive, even when we are dead, you and I."

      "It is not all, Francoise — there is more — more than I can say. I love you still," cried the king, springing forward.

      "No — no — no ! You never loved me — it was only I who loved, and loved to death, too well, too long, too sinfully! "

      With streaming eyes the dead woman looked despairingly СКАЧАТЬ