Jude the Obsure - Page 66/318

III

But under the various deterrent influences Jude's instinct was to

approach her timidly, and the next Sunday he went to the morning

service in the Cathedral church of Cardinal College to gain a further

view of her, for he had found that she frequently attended there.

She did not come, and he awaited her in the afternoon, which was

finer. He knew that if she came at all she would approach the

building along the eastern side of the great green quadrangle from

which it was accessible, and he stood in a corner while the bell was

going. A few minutes before the hour for service she appeared as

one of the figures walking along under the college walls, and at

sight of her he advanced up the side opposite, and followed her into

the building, more than ever glad that he had not as yet revealed

himself. To see her, and to be himself unseen and unknown, was

enough for him at present.

He lingered awhile in the vestibule, and the service was some way

advanced when he was put into a seat. It was a louring, mournful,

still afternoon, when a religion of some sort seems a necessity to

ordinary practical men, and not only a luxury of the emotional

and leisured classes. In the dim light and the baffling glare of

the clerestory windows he could discern the opposite worshippers

indistinctly only, but he saw that Sue was among them. He had not

long discovered the exact seat that she occupied when the chanting

of the 119th Psalm in which the choir was engaged reached its second

part, _In quo corriget_, the organ changing to a pathetic Gregorian

tune as the singers gave forth:

Wherewithal shall a young man cleanse his way?

It was the very question that was engaging Jude's attention at this

moment. What a wicked worthless fellow he had been to give vent as

he had done to an animal passion for a woman, and allow it to lead

to such disastrous consequences; then to think of putting an end to

himself; then to go recklessly and get drunk. The great waves of

pedal music tumbled round the choir, and, nursed on the supernatural

as he had been, it is not wonderful that he could hardly believe that

the psalm was not specially set by some regardful Providence for this

moment of his first entry into the solemn building. And yet it was

the ordinary psalm for the twenty-fourth evening of the month.

The girl for whom he was beginning to nourish an extraordinary

tenderness was at this time ensphered by the same harmonies as those

which floated into his ears; and the thought was a delight to him.

She was probably a frequenter of this place, and, steeped body and

soul in church sentiment as she must be by occupation and habit, had,

no doubt, much in common with him. To an impressionable and lonely

young man the consciousness of having at last found anchorage for

his thoughts, which promised to supply both social and spiritual

possibilities, was like the dew of Hermon, and he remained throughout

the service in a sustaining atmosphere of ecstasy.