Algernon Blackwood

Karma


Скачать книгу

be near to … death!

      Phillip

      Hush, hush, my darling. These are sick fancies only. Your brain is tired. We must not talk like this.

      Mrs. Lattin

      I am tired, yes; but it is my soul that aches and not my body. Phillip, I want your forgiveness.

      Phillip

      There is nothing to forgive. I love you.

      Mrs. Lattin

      (Spiritually tortured and perplexed.) I want your real forgiveness—before I go. I have been suffering deeply, deeply. Curtains have been rising. I almost see. Something seems growing clearer to me. I’ve done wrong somewhere! Why have I pulled against you all these years—against your work? It cannot be my love that is at fault. You’re wholly mine—and yet I want your forgiveness somehow——

      Phillip

      (Deep patience.) All the love and forgiveness in the world I give you, Little Child. But you ask for what was always yours.

      Mrs. Lattin

      Your broken mission. You alone have the strength and patience Egypt needs. I have ruined all, all, all!

      Phillip

      There! I forgive you, then. (Kisses her.) I forgive you all, all, all. But please calm yourself. This excitement does you harm. You torment yourself for nothing. It is I who have been, and am, the egoist. All men who think their work is a mission are shameless egoists.

      Mrs. Lattin

      Thank you, Phillip, for this great gift of your forgiveness. But it is not enough. I want to understand—and so forgive myself.

      Phillip

      You must rest now a little. It was criminal of me to let you talk so much. No, not another word. I’ll leave you for a bit. You must be calm to see the Doctor. It’s nearly six——

      Mrs. Lattin

      Dr. Ogilvie can’t help me.

      Phillip

      What! The first man of the day! His wonderful cures——

      Mrs. Lattin

      He cures the body only. I need a soul physician. Oh, Phillip, I believe sometimes my yearning must bring him to me.

      Phillip

      My darling, it is your body alone that is ill. Your suffering gives you these strange fancies.

      Mrs. Lattin

      You love me too well to understand. (Sighs.) My illness is not only of the body. Now, leave me, dearest. I wish to see him quite alone.

      Phillip

      Little Child, you shall. You can dismiss the nurse. (Glances at clock.) It is close on six.

      Mrs. Lattin

      Kiss me. (He kisses her softly and goes out.) If only—ah, if only my great yearning. …

      [She lies back exhausted. Sighs. Covers her face with her hands. After a moment she uncovers her face and half sits up again. She stares hard at Egyptian picture on the wall.

      The fault lies in my soul, and it comes first from there—from Egypt. The river is rising, rising once again. The stars are rising too. They watch me, and they wait. They’re always watching us. O God! If only some one could make me understand! If some great doctor of the soul … ! (Sinks back. Her eyes close. She lies very still.)

      [A big clock on the mantelpiece strikes the first three strokes of six o’clock, then stops. The door opens slowly and a man enters quietly. He looks round the room, sees her on the sofa apparently asleep, and stands still, a few feet inside the door. He looks steadily at her a moment, then glances at the picture of Egypt on the wall. He smiles gently. His figure is a little bent, perhaps. He is not a big man with any marked presence. As he smiles, she opens her eyes and sees him. She shows surprise and slight embarrassment. She raises herself on one arm. Her voice is hushed rather when she speaks. He remains near the open door.

      I beg your pardon. Is it—Dr. Ogilvie?

      Doctor

      I am the Doctor.

      Mrs. Lattin

      I must apologise. Did no one——?

      Doctor

      I found my way.

      [Both pause, gazing.

      Mrs. Lattin

      (With relief.) Ah! Thank you.

      [She makes an unfinished gesture towards a seat. Her eyes remain fixed on his. She smiles faintly.

      Doctor

      You called for me. (He makes one step nearer.)

      Mrs. Lattin

      My husband, I believe, did write. We—expected you.

      Doctor

      I am come.

      Mrs. Lattin

      It is exceedingly—it is more than kind of you. You are so good. I mean—(stammers; sinks back upon the cushions, unable to maintain the effort). I am very ill.

      Doctor

      I know.

      Mrs. Lattin

      You know! Ah yes—you know.

      Doctor

      That is why you called me. That is why I am here now.

      Mrs. Lattin

      I can tell you very briefly what——

      Doctor

      It is unnecessary.

      Mrs. Lattin

      But——

      Doctor

      I have been watching you.

      [He straightens up a little; a new dignity is in him. She gazes intently. She stretches out a hand, then withdraws it, hesitatingly, again.

      Mrs. Lattin

      You mean——?

      Doctor

      I knew—that you would send for me.

      Mrs. Lattin

      Ah! The medical journals! My case, of course—its peculiar—er—its hopelessness.

      Doctor

      There are no hopeless cases. (He smiles. His voice is very gentle.)

      Mrs. Lattin

      (Bewildered.) You are very ki—good. I thank you, already.

      Doctor

      (Shaking his head quietly.) And you already—I see—are on the way to your recovery.

      Mrs. Lattin

      Recovery!

      Doctor

      Since you realise that you are very ill.

      Mrs. Lattin

      Oh—in that sense.

      Doctor

      In every sense.

      [She is more and more aware of something unusual in him. She keeps her gaze steadily on his face. She makes a gesture towards him, then hesitates. She seems on the point of saying more—speaking more freely.

      Mrs. Lattin

      I think—there must be a mistake somewhere. I don’t quite understand how you——

      Doctor