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The Eternal City, a novel by Hall Caine |
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Part 4. David Rossi - Chapter 14 |
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_ PART FOUR. DAVID ROSSI CHAPTER XIV "David!" she cried. "Don't do that. Get up," he answered. His thoughts were in a whirl. He had been standing aside, trembling for Roma as he had never trembled for himself in the hottest moments of his public life. And now he was alone with her, and his blood was beating in his breast in stabs. "Haven't I done enough?" she cried. "You taunted me with my wealth, but I am as poor as you are now. Every penny I had in the world came from the Baron. He allowed me to use part of the revenues of my father's estates, but the income was under his control, and now he will stop it altogether. I am in debt. I have always been in debt. That was my benefactor's way of reminding me of my dependence on his bounty. And now all _I_ have will be sold to satisfy my creditors, and I shall be turned out homeless." "Roma...." he began, but her tears and passion bore down everything. "House, furniture, presents, carriages, horses, everything will go soon, and I shall have nothing whatever! No matter! You said a woman loved ease and wealth and luxury. Is that all a woman loves? Is there nothing else in the world for any of us? Aren't you satisfied with me at last?" "Roma," he answered, breathing hard, "don't talk like that. I cannot bear it." But she did not listen. "You taunted me with being a woman," she said through a fresh burst of tears. "A woman was incapable of friendship and sacrifices. She was intended to be a man's plaything. Do you think I want to be my husband's mistress? I want to be his wife, to share his fate, whatever it may be, for good or bad, for better or worse." "For God's sake, Roma!" he cried. But she broke in on him again. "You taunted me with the dangers you had to go through, as if a woman must needs be an impediment to her husband, and try to keep him back. Do you think I want my husband to do nothing? If he were content with that he would not be the man I had loved, and I should despise him and leave him." "Roma!..." "Then _you_ taunted me with the death that hangs over you. When you were gone I should be left to the mercy of the world. But that can never happen. Never! Do you think a woman can outlive the man she loves as I love you?... There! I've said it. You've shamed me into it." He could not speak now. His words were choking in his throat, and she went on in a torrent of tears: "The death that threatens you comes from no fault of yours, but only from your fidelity to my father. Therefore I have a right to share it, and I will not live when you are dead." "If I give way now," he thought, "all is over." And clenching his hands behind his back to keep himself from throwing his arms around her, he began in a low voice: "Roma, you have broken your promise to me." "I _don't_ care," she interrupted. "I would break ten thousand promises. I deceived you. I confess it. I pretended to be reconciled to your will, and I was not reconciled. I wanted you to see me strip myself of all I had, that you might have no answer and excuse. Well, you have seen me do it, and now ... what are you going to do _now_?" "Roma," he began again, trembling all over, "there have been two men in me all this time, and one of them has been trying to protect you from the world and from yourself, while the other ... the other has been wanting you to despise all his objections, and trample them under your feet.... If I could only believe that you know all you are doing, all the risk you are running, and the fate you are willing to share ... but no, it is impossible." "David," she cried, "you love me! If you didn't love me, I should know it now--at this moment. But I am braver than you are...." "Let me go. I cannot answer for myself." "I am braver than you are, for I have not only stripped myself of all my possessions, and of all my friends ... I have even compromised myself again and again, and been daring and audacious, and rude to everybody for your sake.... I, a woman ... while you, a man ... you are afraid ... yes, afraid ... you are a coward--that's it, a coward!... No, no, no! What am I saying?... David Leone!" And with a cry of passion and remorse she flung both arms about his neck. He had stood, during this fierce struggle of love and pain, holding himself in until his throbbing nerves could bear the strain no longer. "Come to me, then--come to me," he cried, and at the moment when she threw herself upon him he stretched out his arms to receive her. "You do love me?" she said. "Indeed, yes! And you?" "Yes, yes, yes!" He clasped her in his arms with redoubled ardour, and pressed her to his breast and kissed her. The love so long pent up was bursting out like a liberated cataract that sweeps the snow and the ice before it. All at once the girl who had been so brave in the great battle of her love became weak and womanish in the moment of her victory. Under the warmth of his tenderness she dropped her head on to his breast to conceal her face in her shame. "You will never think the worse of me?" she faltered. "The worse of you! For loving me?" "For telling you so and forcing myself into your life?" "My darling, no!" She lifted her head, and he kissed away the tears that were shining in her eyes. "But tell me," he said, "are you sure--quite sure? Do you know what is before you?" "I only know I love you." He folded her afresh in his strong embrace, and kissed her head as it lay on his breast. "Think again," he said. "A man's enemies can be merciless. They may watch you and put pressure upon you, and even humiliate you for my sake." "No matter, I am not afraid," she answered, and again he tightened his arms about her in a passionate embrace, and covered her hair and her neck and her hands and her finger-tips with kisses. They did not speak for a long time after that. There was no need for words. He was conquered, yet he was conqueror, and she was happy and at peace. The long fight was over, and everything was well. He put her to sit in a chair, and sat himself on the arm of it, with his face to her face, and her arms still round his neck. It was like a dream. She could scarcely believe it. He whom she had looked up to with adoration was caressing her. She was like a child in her joy, blushing and half afraid. He ran his hand through her hair and kissed her forehead. She threw back her head that she might put her lips to his forehead in return, and he kissed her full, round throat. Then they exchanged rings as the sign of their eternal union. When she put her diamond ring, set in gold, on to his finger, he looked grave and even sad; but when he put his plain silver one on to hers, she lifted up her glorified hand to the light, and kissed and kissed it. They began to talk in low tones, as if some one had been listening. It was the whispering of their hearts, for the angel of happy love has no voice louder than a whisper. She asked him to say again that he loved her, but as soon as he began to say it she stopped his mouth with a kiss. They talked of their love. She was sure she had loved him before he loved her, and when he said that he had loved her always, she protested in that case he did not love her at all. They rose at length to close the windows, and side by side, his arm about her waist, her head leaning lightly on his shoulder, they stood for a moment looking out. The mother of cities lay below in its lightsome whiteness, and over the ridge of its encircling hills the glow of the departing sun was rising in vaporous tints of amber and crimson into the transparent blue, with the dome of St. Peter's, like a balloon ready to rise into a celestial sky. "A storm is coming," he said, looking at the colours in the sunset. "It has come and gone," she whispered, and then his arm folded closer about her waist. It took him half-an-hour to say adieu. After the last kiss and the last handshake, their arms would stretch out to the utmost limit, and then close again for another and another and yet another embrace. _ |
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