Out in the World CHAPTER 34.
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Spring was advancing towards summer. It was early in June. There had been a few warm days in May, and under the doctor's advice, Madeline had taken advantage of them to ride out. But, the effort and excitement drew too heavily on her strength. She came back exhausted, and did not react from the fatigue, as well as the doctor had hoped.
"The promise of spring has failed," she said, smiling feebly. Mrs. Lawrence was sitting by her, as she lay on a sofa in the parlor, after one of these drives. She had not sufficient strength to walk upstairs, after coming in from the carriage, and rested in the parlor until she could gain a little for the effort.
"Oh, no," quickly answered Mrs. Lawrence.
"The soft, warm air comes gratefully to my cheeks. I look upon the greenness and beauty of nature, and it refreshes my soul. But, new life does not flush my veins. The pulses are quickened; but only from fever."
Tears filled the eyes of Mrs. Lawrence. Her heart was so burdened that she could not reply. Madeline continued —
"I shall go from you in a little while, dear friend! The struggle is over. After a year of pain — I have ease; after wearying toil — I am at rest; after the bitterness of a long strife — there is peace. I lie awake, sometimes, for hours, in the night, thinking over the past, and looking at the present. The road along which I journeyed led me down into gloomy valleys; through wildernesses, where dwelt all manner of evil beasts; over rocky and barren places. I have had sorrow, and repentance, and pain that seemed more than human strength could bear. But, God has brought my feet at last into a plain way. The ground is soft beneath them. The air is filled with light and fragrance. The journey is over, and looking down into my heart, I can say in truth, that it has been better for me that I have suffered. For the rest, God's love and wisdom are infinite. I shall no longer afflict my soul with the question — 'What might have been?' Out of what is, I will seek to draw the highest comfort."
From that time, a loss of strength was perceived, daily. Madeline never rode out again.
About the middle of June, Mr. Lawrence received a note from Mr. Jansen, asking him to call, and mentioning a certain hour when he would be alone. Mr. Lawrence could scarcely repress an exclamation of surprise when he entered the invalid's presence. Elsewhere, he would scarcely have recognized the wan and wasted face which met him. The hand he took gave back only a feeble pressure. "You see," he said, "that I am going rapidly."
While Mr. Lawrence was hesitating on the words of his answer, Mr. Jansen asked, with an interest not to be repressed —
"How is Madeline?"
"Failing," was answered.
"Does she go out?"
"No. She is too weak for that."
"Does she sit up?"
"Yes; for two or three hours at a time."
"You think her failing?"
"Yes. The doctor has no hope of her recovery. She may linger for a while — how long is uncertain."
"What is her state of mind?"
"She is very peaceful — waiting for the end."
Mr. Jansen clasped his hands together, and shut his eyes. There was a glow of thankfulness in his countenance.
"The long night of suffering is over. The pain all gone!" he murmured, with satisfaction.
"Yes, all gone," said Mr. Lawrence.
"I have sent for you to ask a favor — a great favor." The face of Mr. Jansen grew earnest.
"You will not deny me?"
"Say on." Mr. Jansen had paused.
"I want to see Madeline. Now don't say no! I must see her before I die. Oh, Mr. Lawrence!" — and the sick man trembled with excitement — "you cannot know how I am pining just to look once again into her face. Maybe it is wrong; but, I am too weak to discuss that question. I dream of her every night; I think of her all day — all night and all day in my loneliness! I say loneliness, Mr. Lawrence. Perhaps you understand me."
Mr. Lawrence dropped his eyes to the floor. Mr. Jansen, who was reading his face eagerly, saw disapproval there. The sick man leaned towards him —
"Just once! Only once." The pleading of his tone was touching in its eloquence.
"It might not be right," answered Mr. Lawrence. "It would not be right!" he added more firmly. "The peace of Madeline must not be so disturbed. It would be a violence to her state — a great wrong. She is in rest and tranquility, waiting for the end. Oh, no, no, Mr. Jansen! It cannot be!"
"You are right as to Madeline. I do not ask an interview; I do not desire it. Even if both of us had strength to bear it, the act would be wrong. I recognize this."
"What then," said Mr. Lawrence.
"It might be arranged so that I could see her."
"How?"
"She is able to sit up?"
"Yes, for short periods at a time."
"She would not know me, I am so changed. I could ride past, and look upon her if she were at the window. This is all I meant."
After a little reflection, Mr. Lawrence said —
"Are you strong enough?"
"Oh, I'll risk all that!" answered the sick man.
"Do you ride out?"
"I haven't been out for two or three weeks. But, you know the weather has not been favorable."
"I will think it over," said Mr. Lawrence.
Mr. Jansen laid his white, almost transparent hand, on the arm of Mr. Lawrence, and spoke with considerable eagerness —
"My dear sir, the sword is cutting into the scabbard! For a long time, I have resisted this desire to see Madeline; but, I have not the strength of will to put it from me any longer. It is so strong that it is exhausting me. Our days are numbered — hers and mine. She is declining peacefully — thank God, that I have been instrumental in affording that peace! — while my day is going out, dark and dreary. To look into her face, will be just so much of sunlight. You can bring it to pass if you will."
"I will put no hindrances in your way," answered Mr. Lawrence, who was considerably moved.
"If tomorrow is a fair day, I will ride out," said Mr. Jansen.
"But are you strong enough? Can you bear the fatigue?"
"I shall be strong enough — no fear of that!" he answered, quickly. "All I ask is, that you have Madeline so placed at the window that I can look into her face as I ride slowly by. She will not know me; and therefore no harm will be done. Her soul will remain peaceful; and mine will be satisfied. The thirsty lips of my spirit will bend to a spring of water."
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