Скорбь сатаны / The sorrows of Satan. Уровень 4. Мария Корелли

succeeds!”

      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. 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. My first annoyance abated.

      “With pleasure!” I replied. “But first of all, you must allow me to explain matters a little. You have heard about my affairs from my friend John Carrington. 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. 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. I got a letter…”

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

      I smiled.

      “Judge for yourself!”

      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 exhausted in about eight years or less. To be rich, really rich, one should have about a million a year. Then one might reasonably hope to escape the workhouse!”

      He laughed, and I stared at him stupidly, not knowing how to take his words, whether as truth or idle boasting. Five millions of money a mere trifle! He went on,

      “The inexhaustible greed of a man, my dear sir, can never be satisfied. If he gets one thing, he wants another, and his tastes are generally expensive. A few pretty and unscrupulous women for example, will soon relieve you of your five millions. Horse-racing will do it still more quickly. No, no, you are not rich, you are still poor, only your needs are no longer so pressing as they were.”

      He broke off and raised his head,

      “What is that?” he asked.

      It was the violinist next door playing a well-known “Ave Maria.” I told him so.

      “Dismal, very dismal!” he said with a contemptuous shrug. “I hate all that kind of mawkish devotional stuff. Well, Mr. Millionaire! There is no objection, I hope, to the proposed supper? What do you say?”

      He clapped me on the shoulder cordially and looked straight into my face. Those wonderful eyes of his completely dominated me. I made no attempt to resist the singular attraction which now possessed me for this man whom I had but just met. Only for one moment more I hesitated, looking down at my shabby attire.

      “I am not fit to accompany you, prince,” I said. “I look more like a tramp than a millionaire.”

      He glanced at me and smiled.

      “Upon my word you do!” he averred. “But be satisfied! It is only the poor and proud who dress well. An ugly coat often adorns the back of a Prime Minister!”

      He rose.

      “Why think of the coat if the purse is full!” he continued gaily. “Now come along. I want you to do justice to my supper. I have my own chef with me, and he is not without skill. I hope, by the way, you will let me be your banker?”

      This offer was made with such an air of courteous delicacy and friendship, that I accepted it gratefully, as it relieved me from all temporary embarrassment. I hastily wrote a few lines to my landlady, telling her she would receive the money owing to her by post next day. I extinguished the lamp, and with the new friend I left my dismal lodgings and all its miserable associations for ever. I went joyfully out of the dreary house where I had lived so long among disappointments and difficulties. The last thing I heard as I passed into the street with my companion, was a plaintive wail of minor melody by the unknown and invisible player of the violin.

      4

      Outside the prince’s carriage waited, drawn by two spirited black horses caparisoned in silver. We stepped in. As I sank back among the easy cushions, I felt the complacent consciousness of luxury and power. My brain was in a whirl, my thoughts were all dim and disconnected. I was in some whimsical dream from which I should wake up directly.

      The carriage rolled on and made no noise as it went, one could only hear the even rapid trot of the horses. By-and-by I saw in the semi-darkness my new friend’s brilliant dark eyes fixed upon me with a curiously intent expression.

      “Do you not feel the world already at your feet?” he queried half playfully, half ironically. “It is such an absurd world, you know, so easily moved. Wise men in all ages have done their best to make it less ridiculous. With no result, inasmuch as it continues to prefer folly to wisdom.”

      “You speak a trifle bitterly, prince,” I said. “But no doubt you have had a wide experience among men?”

      “I have,” he returned with emphasis. “My kingdom is a vast one.”

      “You are a ruling power then?” I exclaimed with some astonishment. “Yours is not a title of honour only?”

      “Oh, as your rules of aristocracy go, it is a mere title of honour,” he replied quickly. “When I say that my kingdom is a vast one, I mean that I rule wherever men obey the influence of wealth. From this point of view, am I wrong in calling my kingdom vast? Is it not almost boundless?”

      “I perceive you are a cynic,” I said. “Surely you believe that there are some things wealth cannot buy, honour and virtue for example?”

      He surveyed me with a whimsical smile.

      “I suppose honour and virtue exist,” he answered. “But my experience has taught me that I can always buy everything. Just tell the price, and the people become bribery and corrupt in the twinkling of an eye! Curious – very curious. Pray do not imagine I am a swindler. I am a real prince, believe me, and of such descent as none of your oldest families can boast. But my dominions are broken up and my former subjects dispersed among all nations. Money I fortunately have in plenty, and with that I pave my way. Some day when we are better acquainted, you will know more of my private history. I have various other names and titles. My intimate friends generally drop my title, and call me Lucio simply.”

      “That is your Christian name?” I began.

      “Not at all – I have no ‘Christian’ name,” he interrupted swiftly and with anger. “I’m not a ‘Christian’ at all!”

      He spoke with impatience.

      “Indeed!” I murmured vaguely.

      He burst out laughing.

      “‘Indeed!’ That is all you can say! Indeed and again indeed the word ‘Christian’ vexes me. You are not a Christian, no one is really, people pretend to be. They are more blasphemous than any fallen fiend! Now I have only one faith…”

      “And that is…?”

      “A profound and awful one!” he said in thrilling tones. “And the worst of it is that it is true.”

      The carriage stopped and we descended. At first sight of the black horses and silver trappings, the porter of the hotel and two or three other servants rushed out to attend upon us; but the prince passed into the hall without noticing any of them. He addressed himself to a man in black, his own private valet, who came forward to meet him with a profound salutation. I murmured something about wishing to engage a room for myself in the hotel.

      “Oh, my man will make that for you,” he said lightly. “The hotel is not full. At any rate, all the best rooms are not taken; and of course you want one of the best.”

      A