The Ghost: A Modern Fantasy - Page 124/126

"It is gone?" she murmured.

"Yes," I said, "the curse is lifted."

She smiled, and only our ardent glances spoke.

* * * * *

"How came you to think of it?" I asked.

"I was sitting in my room after dinner, thinking and thinking. And

suddenly I could see this room, and you, and the spectre, as plainly

as I see you now. I felt your terror; I knew every thought that was

passing in your brain, the anguish of it! And then, and then, an idea

struck me. I had never appealed in vain to Lord Clarenceux in

life--why should I not appeal now? I threw a wrap over my shoulders

and ran out. I didn't take a cab, I ran--all the way. I scarcely knew

what I was doing, only that I had to save you. Oh, Carl, you are

free!"

"Through you," I said.

She kissed me, and her kiss had at once the pure passion of a girl and

the satisfied solicitude of a mother.

"Take me home!" she whispered.

Outside the hotel an open carriage happened to be standing. I hailed

the driver, and we got in. The night was beautifully fine and mild. In

the narrow lane of sky left by the high roofs of the street the stars

shone and twinkled with what was to me a new meaning. For I was once

more in accord with the universe. I and Life were at peace again.

"Don't let us go straight home," said Rosa, as the driver turned

towards us for instructions. "It seems to me that a drive through

Paris would be very enjoyable to-night."

And so we told the man to proceed along the quays as far as he could,

and then through the Champs Elysées to the Bois de Boulogne. The Seine

slept by its deserted parapets like a silver snake, and only the low

rumble of the steam-car from Versailles disturbed its slumber. The

million lights of the gas-lamps, stretching away now and then into the

endless vistas of the boulevards, spoke to me of the delicious

companionship of humanity, from which I had so nearly been snatched

away. And the glorious girl by my side--what of her companionship? Ah,

that was more than a companionship; it was a perfect intercourse which

we shared. No two human beings ever understood one another more

absolutely, more profoundly, than did Rosa and myself, for we had been

through the valley and through the flood together. And so it happened

that we did not trouble much with conversation. It was our souls, not

our mouths which talked--talked softly and mysteriously in the

gracious stillness and obscurity of that Paris night. I learnt many

things during that drive--the depth of her love, the height of her

courage, the ecstasy of her bliss. And she, too, she must have learnt

many things from me--the warmth of my gratitude to her, a warmth which

was only exceeded by the transcendent fire of my affection.