A Secret Inheritance. Volume 2 of 3. Farjeon Benjamin Leopold

and the figure of Avicia standing thereon, with her hair hanging loose, and a scarlet covering on her head. Was it a spiritual reflection of what this silent, motionless man was gazing upon? I shuddered, and passed my hand across my eyes; the vision was gone-but he gazed upon it still.

      "I was compelled at length to leave him standing there upon the beach, and he took no notice of my departure.

      "Others were observing him as well as I, and had watched me with curiosity during the time I stood by his side. When I was among them they asked if he had spoken to me.

      "'No,' I replied, 'I could get no word from him.'

      "'Neither has he spoken to us,' they said. 'Not a sound has passed his lips since his arrival.'

      "'When did he arrive?' I inquired.

      "'Yesterday,' they answered, 'and our first thought was that he would want a boat to row to the lighthouse, but he did not ask for it. Surely he must wish to see his brother! There is something strange about him, do you not think so? One of our women here insists that he is dumb.'

      "'He must be dumb,' said the woman; 'else why should he not speak?'

      "'There was a jealousy between him and his brother,' said an elderly woman, 'about Avicia.'

      "'What has that to do with it?' exclaimed the woman who pronounced him dumb. 'Jealousy, like love, does not last for ever. She is not the only woman in the world, and men have eyes. They must have made up their quarrel long ago. Besides, if he was jealous still, which isn't in the least likely, that would not make him dumb! His tongue would be all the looser for it.'

      "'More terrible,' thought I, 'is the dread silence of that motionless man than all the storms of wrath his tongue could utter.'

      "From what the villagers said, I knew that they were in ignorance of the hatred which filled Kristel's heart, and I debated within myself what it was best to do. That the simple men of the village would not voluntarily make themselves parties to any scheme of blind vengeance on the part of one brother against another I was certain, but I was not satisfied that it would be right to give them my whole confidence, and tell them all I knew. At the same time it would not be right to allow them to remain in complete ignorance, for by so doing they might be made unwittingly to further Kristel's designs upon his brother's life. There was a priest in the village, and I went to him, and under the seal of secrecy revealed something, but not all, of the meaning of Kristel's appearance.

      "'Come with me,' he said.

      "I accompanied him, and once more stood by the side of Kristel. The priest addressed him, counselled him, exhorted him, and, like myself, could obtain no word from him. Kindlier speech I never heard, but it made no impression upon Kristel.

      "'He must be dumb,' said the priest as we moved away.

      "'Not so,' I said earnestly; 'were he dumb, and unable to hear what is said to him, he would certainly indicate by some kind of sign that speech addressed to him was falling upon ears that were deaf. He is possessed by a demoniac obduracy, and his apparent indifference is but a part of a fell design to which I should be afraid to give a name.'

      "The priest was impressed by this view of the matter, which could not but appeal successfully to a man's calm reason.

      "'What can I do?' he asked. 'If a man is determined not to speak, I have no power to compel him.'

      "'It is in your power,' I said, 'to prevent bloodshed.'

      "'Bloodshed!' he echoed, in a startled tone.

      "'Nothing less, I fear,' I said. 'Lay an injunction upon the villagers not to lend that man a boat, and not, under any pretext, to row him to the lighthouse.'

      "'What dreadful thoughts do your words suggest!' exclaimed the priest. 'They alarm and bewilder me.'

      "'I am not at liberty to say more at the present moment,' I said. 'I shall not leave the village to-day. I myself will see that man's brother, and will obtain permission from him to reveal all I know. Meanwhile give not that soul-tossed wretch the opportunity of carrying out a scheme of ruthless vengeance which he has harboured for years.'

      "'Tell me explicitly what you wish me to do.'

      "'I have already told you. That man, with the connivance or assistance of any person in this village, must not be enabled to get to the lighthouse.'

      "'He shall not,' said the priest.

      "And he mixed with the villagers, men and women, and laid upon them the injunction I desired. With my mind thus set at ease for at least a few hours, I engaged a couple of boatmen to row me to Silvain. I half expected that Kristel would come forward with a request, made if not in speech in dumb show, to be allowed to accompany me, and I had resolved what action to take; but he made no step towards me. He gave no indication even of a knowledge of what was taking place within a dozen yards of him, although it was not possible that the putting off of the boat from the shore could have escaped his observation.

      "'If he is not deaf and dumb,' said one of the rowers, 'he must have gone clean out of his senses.'

      "'Neither one nor the other,' thought I; 'he is nursing his vengeance, and has decided upon some plan of action.'

      "Silvain and Avicia were on the outer gallery, and when I joined them Silvain drew me aside.

      "'You have news of Kristel,' he said. I nodded, and he continued: 'I know without the telling. He is in the village.'

      "'Who informed you?' I asked.

      "'No human,' he replied, with a sad smile. 'I see him standing upon the beach, looking towards us.'

      "In truth that was a physical impossibility, but I needed no further proof of the mysterious insight with which Silvain was gifted. I related to him all that had passed between me and Kristel and the priest, and of the precautions taken to keep from Kristel the means of reaching the lighthouse.

      "'That will not prevent him from coming, said Silvain; 'he is a fine swimmer. I myself, were I desperately pushed to it, would undertake to swim to the village. You hold to your promise. You hold to your promise, Louis, with respect to Avicia?'

      "'It is binding upon me,' I replied; 'my word is given.'

      "'Faithful friend! Neither will my child be left without a counsellor. Louis, I shall never see the face of my child-I shall never feel his little hands about my neck!'

      "'Were it not for the tender sympathy I have for you,' I said in a tone of reproof, 'I should feel inclined to be angry. Did you not confess to me in former days that you could not see into the future? And here you are, raising up ghosts to make the present more bitter than it is. No, no, Silvain. Black as things appear, there are bright years yet in store for you.'

      "'I cannot help my forebodings, Louis. True, I cannot, nor can any man, see into the future, but what can I do to turn my brother's hate from me?' It was a cry of anguish wrung from his suffering heart. 'I think of the days of our childhood, when we strolled in the woods with our arms round each other's necks, I think of the dreams we mapped of the future. Running water by the side of which we sat, bending over to see our faces, and making our lips meet in a shadowed kiss, flowers we picked in field and meadow, errands of mercy we went upon together, twilight communings, the little sweethearts we had-all these innocent ways of childhood rise before me, and fill me with anguish. What can I do? – what can I do to bring him back to me in brotherly love? Louis, I have a fear that I have never whispered to living soul. It is that Avicia may have twin children, as Kristel and I are, and they should grow up to be as we are now! Would it not be better that they should be born dead, or die young, when their souls are not stained with hatred of each other and with evil thoughts that render existence a curse?'

      "We were alone when he gave expression to his agonised feelings; Avicia had left us to attend to domestic duties. I could say nothing to comfort him; to harp upon one string of intended consolation to a man who is in no mood to accept it becomes, after a time, an oppression. He paced up and down, twining his fingers convulsively, and presently said,

      "'It would be too much, Louis, to ask you to remain with me a little while?'

      "'No,' I replied, 'it would not. Indeed, it was partly in my mind to suggest