Love's Pilgrimage Part 25

Then, however, as he clasped her to him, there came once more the shrinking. "Only give me a little time, dear," she whispered. "Let me get used to it. Let it come naturally."

But the only way he could have given her time would have been to go away. Here he was, in her room--with every reminder of her about him, with every incitement to his desire. And he had but two things to choose between--to go out and walk and think about her, or to come home and sit with her and talk about their love.

They had their supper, and then again she was in his arms. He told her about this trouble--he showed how the love of her was consuming him. Far into the night they sat talking, and he poured out his heart to her, he bore her with him to the mountain-tops of his desire. He took down a book of Spenser's, and read her the "Epithalamium"; he read her Sh.e.l.ley's "Epip sychidion," which they both loved. All the power of Thyrsis' genius was turned now to pa.s.sion, and the hidden forces of him were revealed as never had they been revealed to her before. He became eloquent; he talked to her as he had lived with himself; he awed her and frightened her, as he had that evening upon the hill-top. Then at last, as the tide of his feeling swept him away again, he clasped her to him tightly, and hid his face in her neck. "I love you! Oh, I love you!" he cried.

She had sunk back and closed her eyes. "My Thyrsis!" she whispered.

"You love me?" he asked. "You are quite sure?"

"I am quite sure!" she said.

He kissed her; again and again he kissed her, until he had made sure of her desire. Then suddenly, he began with trembling fingers to unfasten the neck of her dress.

For a moment she did not comprehend what he meant. Then she gave a start. "Thyrsis!" she cried.

And she sprang up, staring at him with fright in her eyes.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Thyrsis!" she gasped. "What--what were you going to do?"

And at her question, shame swept over him. He was horrified at himself.

How could he find words to tell her what he had been going to do?

He turned away with a moan, and put his hands over his face. "Oh G.o.d, I can't stand this!" he exclaimed.

Suddenly he went to his hat and coat. "I must go out!" he said.

"What do you mean?" cried Corydon.

"I mean I've got to go somewhere!" he replied. "I can't stand it--I can't stay here."

"Thyrsis!" she cried, wildly. And she sprang to him and flung her arms about him. "No, no!" she cried. "No!"

"But what am I to do?"

"Wait! Wait!"

And she pressed him tightly to her. "Thyrsis!" she whispered. "Can't you understand? Don't be so stupid, dear!"

"Stupid!"

"Yes, sweetheart--can't you see? I'm only a child! And it's so strange!

It frightens me! Try to realize how I feel!"

"But what am I to do?"

"Do? Why you must _make_ me, Thyrsis!" And as she said this she hid her face upon his shoulder and sobbed. "You are a man, Thyrsis, you are a man, and I am only a girl! Do what you want to! Don't pay any attention to me!"

And those words to Thyrsis were like the cras.h.i.+ng of a peal of thunder.

He clutched her to him, with a force that crushed her, that made her cry out. The soul of the cave-man awoke in him--he lifted his mate in his arms and bore her away to a secret place.

"Put down the light," she whispered, and he did this. And then again he began to unfasten her dress.

She submitted at first, she let him have his way. But later, when his hands touched the soft garment on her bosom, he felt a sharp tremor pa.s.s through her.

"Thyrsis!" she whispered.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Wait dear, wait!"

"Why wait?" he cried.

"Just a moment--please, dear!"

But he answered her--"No! Not a moment! No!"

She clung to him, trembling, pleading. "Please, dearest, please! I'm afraid, Thyrsis."

But nothing could stop him now. She was his--his to do what he pleased with! And he would bend her to his will! The voice of his manhood shouted aloud to him now, and it was like the clas.h.i.+ng of wild cymbals in his soul.

He went on with what he was doing. She shrunk away from him, but he followed her, he held her fast.

Then she began to sob--"Oh Thyrsis, wait--spare me! I can't bear it! No, Thyrsis--no!"

But he answered her, "Be still! I love you! You are mine." And for every sob and every shudder and every moan of fear he had but one response--"I love you! You are mine!"

He knew that he loved her now--and he knew what his love meant. Before this they had been strangers; but now he would penetrate to the secret places, to the holy of holies of her being.

Never in all his life had Thyrsis known woman. To him woman had been the supreme mystery of life, a creature of awe and sacredness--not to be handled, scarcely even to be thought about. Now the awful ban was lifted, the barriers were down; what had been hidden was revealed, what had been forbidden was permitted. So all the chained desire of a lifetime drove him on; it was almost more than he could bear. The touch of her warm b.r.e.a.s.t.s, the faint perfume of her clothing, the pressure of her soft, white limbs--these things set every nerve of him a-tremble, they turned a madness loose in him. A blinding whirl of emotion seized him, he was like a leaf swept away in a gale; his words came now in wild sobs, "I love you! I love you!"

So with quivering fingers he stripped her before him; and she crouched there, cowering and weeping. He took her in his arms; and that clasp there was no misunderstanding, for all the mastery of his will was in it. Nor did she try to resist him--she lay still, but shaking like a leaf, and choking with sobs. And so it was that he wreaked his will upon her.

Section 10. And then came the reaction--the most awful experience of his life. Thyrsis was sitting upon the bed, and staring in front of him, dazed. He was exhausted, faint, shuddering with horror. "Oh, my G.o.d, my G.o.d!" he whispered.

What had he done? Corydon, the gentle and pure--she had trusted herself to him, and how had he treated her? He had tortured her, he had defiled her! Oh, it was sickening; brutal, like a butchery! He sunk down in a heap, moaning, "My G.o.d! I can't bear it! I can't bear it!"

And then a strange thing happened--the strangest of all strange things!

An unforeseeable, an unimaginable thing!

Corydon had started up, and was listening; and now suddenly he felt her arms stealing about him. "Thyrsis!" she whispered. "Thyrsis!"

"Oh, what shall I do?" he sobbed.

"What's the matter?"

"Oh, it was so horrible! horrible!"