Transcript

Chapter XV · The White Sister

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Chapter fifteen of The White Sister. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox
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recordings are in the public domain. For more information, were to volunteer,
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please visit LibriVox dot org. Read by Marie Christian. The White Sister by
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F. Marion Crawford, Chapter fifteen. A carriage came early for Sister Giovanna
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that evening, and the footman sent in a message by the portress. The
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patient was worse, he said, and the doctor hoped that the nurse would
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come as soon as she conveniently could. She came down in less than five
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minutes in her wide black cloak, carrying her little black bag in her hand.
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It was raining heavily, and she drew the hood up over her head
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before she left the threshold, though the servant was holding up a large umbrella.
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The portress had asked the usual questions of him as soon as he presented
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himself, but Sister Giovanna repeated them. Was the carriage from the Vellino Beerini.
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It was to take the nurse who was wanted for Baroness Barini. Yes,
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the signor Baronessa was worse, and that was why the carriage had come
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half an hour earlier. The door of the brewam was shut with a sharp
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snap. The footman sprang to the box with more than an average flunky's agility,
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and the nun was driven rapidly away. Knowing that the house she was
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going to was one of those little modern villas on the slope of the jeniculum,
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which have no arched entrance and often have no particular shelter at the front
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door, she did not take the trouble to push her hood back, as
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she would need it again so soon. In about ten minutes, the carriage
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stopped. The footman jumped down with his open umbrella in his hand, and
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let her into the house. Before she could ask whether she had better leave
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her cloak in the hall, the man was leading the way up stairs.
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It was rather dark, but she felt that the carpet under her feet was
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thick and soft. She followed lightly, and a moment later she was admitted
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to a well lighted room that looked like a man's library. The footman disappeared
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and shut the door, and the latch made a noise as if the key
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were being turned. As she supposed such a thing to be out of the
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question, However, she was ashamed to go and try the lock. She
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thought she was in the study of the master of the house, and that
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some one would come for her at once, and she stood still in the
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middle of the room, Setting down her bag on a chair. She pushed
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the hood back from her head, carefully, as nuns do, in order
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not to discompose the rather complicated arrangement of the veil and headband. She had
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scarcely done this when, as she expected, a door at the end of
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the room was opened. But it was not a stranger that entered to her
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unspeak amazement. It was Giovanni Severi. In a flash, she understood that
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by some trick she had been brought to his brother's dwelling. She was alone
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with him, and the door was locked on the outside. She laid one
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hand on the back of the nearest chair to steady herself, wondering whether she
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were not really lying ill in her bed and dreaming in the delirium of a
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fever. But it was no dream. He was standing before her, looking
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into her face, and his own was stern and dark as an arab's.
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When he spoke at last, his voice was low and determined, Yes,
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you are in my house. Her tongue was loosed with a cry of indignation.
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If you are not a madman, let me go. I am not
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mad. His eyes terrified her, and she backed away from him towards the
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locked door. She almost shrieked from fear. If you have a spark of
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human feeling, let me out. I am human, he answered grimly,
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but he did not move to follow her. By whatever you hold sacred,
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let me go. She was wrenching at the lock in despair with both hands,
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but sideways, while she kept her eyes on his. I hold you
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sacred, nothing else sacred. Her anger began to outgrave her terror now sacred.
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And you have trapped me by a vile trick, yes, he answered,
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I admit that he had not moved again, and there was a window
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near her. She sprang to it and thrust the curtains aside, hoping to
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open the frame before he could stop her. But though she moved the fastenings
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easily, she could do no more with all her strength, and Giovanni stood
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motionless watching her. You cannot open that window, he said, quietly.
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If you scream, no one will hear you. Do you think I would
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have brought you to a place where you could get help? Merely by crying
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out for it. The risk was too great. I have made sure of
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being alone with you as long as I choose. The nun drew herself up
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against the red curtains. I did not know that you were a coward,
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she said. I am what you have made me, brave, cowardly,
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desperate, anything you choose to call it, But such as I am,
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you must hear me to the end this time, for you have no choice.
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Sister Giovanna understood that there was no escape, and she stood quite still.
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But he saw that her lips moved a little. God is not here,
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he said, in a hard voice, for he knew that she was
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praying. God is here, she answered, crossing her hands on her breast.
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He came a step nearer and leaned on the back of a chair.
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He was evidently controlling himself, for his movements were steadily deliberate, though his
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voice was beginning to shake ominously. If God is with you, Angela,
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then he shall hear that I love you and that you are mine, not
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his. He shall listen while I tell you that I will not give you
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up to be murdered by priests for his glory. Do what he will,
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He shall not have you. I defy him. The nun shrank against the
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curtain, not from the man, but at the words. At least,
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do not blaspheme. I must if it is blasphemy to love you yours is
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not love would to heaven it were as I thought it was to day.
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Love is gentle, generous, tender. Then be all three to me,
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for you love me in spite of every thing you have taught me. To
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forget that I ever did, she answered, Learn to remember that you did,
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to realize that you do, and forget only that I have used a
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trick to bring you here, a harmless trick, one carriage for another,
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my brother's orderly for a servant. I found out for Madame Bernard where you
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were going, and I sent for you before the hour. You are as
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safe here as if you were praying in your chapel. In a few minutes
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the carriage will take you back. You will say you got into the wrong
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one by mistake, which is quite true, and the right one will take
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you where you are to go. You will be scarcely half an hour late,
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and no one will ever know anything more about it. Sister Giovanna had
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listened patiently to his explanation and believed what he said. He had always been
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impulsive to rashness, but now that her first surprise had subsided, she was
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less afraid. He had evidently yielded to a strong temptation with the idea of
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force her to listen to him, and in reality, if she had understood
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herself, she was not able to believe that he would hurt her or bring
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any disgrace upon her. If you are in earnest, she said, when
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he had finished, then let me go at once. Presently, he answered,
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this afternoon, you made me promise to hear quietly what you had to
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say, and I did my best. I could not help your being frightened
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just now. I suppose, after all, I have carried you off from
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the door of your convent, and I meant you to understand that you were
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helpless and must listen. I ought to have put it differently, but I
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am not clever at such things. All I ask is that you will hear
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me, after all, that is what you asked of me to day.
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He had begun to walk up and down before her while he was speaking,
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but he did not come near her, for the chair stood between her and
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the line along which he was pacing backwards and forwards. Something in his way
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of speaking reassured her as he jerked out the rather disconnected sentences. Women often
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make the mistake of thinking that when we men begin to stumble away from the
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straight chalk line of that logic in which we are supposed by them to take
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such pride, our purpose is wavering, whereas the opposite is often the case.
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Men capable of sudden, direct and strong action are often poor talkers,
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particularly when they are just going to spring or strike. A little hesitation is
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more often the sign of a near outbreak than of any inward weakening. But
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sister Giovanna was deceived. I shall be forced to listen if you insist,
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she said, moving half a step forward from the curtain. But how can
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I trust you while I am your prisoner. You can trust me if you
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will be generous, Giovanni answered, I do not know what you mean by
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the word, replied the nun cautiously. If I am not generous as you
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mean it, what then, SEVERI stopped in his walk. His face began
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to darken again, and his voice was rough and hard. What then,
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why then, remember what I am and where you are? Sister Giovanna drew
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back again. I would rather trust in God than trust you when you speak
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in that tone, she said. He had used the very words she had
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spoken in the cloister when he had tried to take her by the arm,
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but they had a very different meaning. Now his dangerous temper was rising again
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and he was threatening her. Yet her answer produced an effect she was far
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from expecting. He turned to the writing table near him, opened one of
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the drawers, and took out an army revolver. Sister Giovanna watched him.
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If he was only going to kill her, she was not afraid. I
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will force you to trust me, he said, quickly examining the charge.
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As he came towards her. By threatening me with that thing, she asked
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with contempt, you are mistaken. He was close to her, but he
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offered her the butt end of the weapon. No, he said, I
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am not mistaken. It is I who feared death as long as you are
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alive, and here it is in your hand. But she would not take
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the revolver from him. You will not take it. Well, there it
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is. He laid it on the chair, which he placed beside her.
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If I come too near you or try to touch even your sleeve. You
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can use it. The law will acquit you, and even praise you for
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defending yourself in need. There must be no need, she answered, looking
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at him fixedly, say quickly what you have to say. Will you not
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sit down? Then? No, thank you. I would rather not.
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It would have seemed like consenting to be where she was. And besides,
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the revolver lay on the nearest available chair, and she would not touch it,
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much less hold it in her hand if she sat down. To listen,
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Giovanni leaned back against the heavy table at some distance from her, resting
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his hands on the edge on each side of him. After I left you
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to day, he began. I had a long talk with Monseigneur Sara Sineska
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in the street. I asked him questions about obtaining a dispensation for you.
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He made it look impossible. Of course, that was to be expected.
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But I got one point from him, which is important. He made it
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quite clear to me that the request to be released from your vows must come
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from you if it is to be considered at all. You understand that,
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do you not? Is it possible that you yourself do not yet understand?
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Sister Giovanna asked, as quietly as she could. Did I not tell you
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to day that no power could loose me from my vows? You are mistaken.
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There is a power that can, and that rests with the Pope,
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and he shall exercise it. I will not ask for a dispensation. I
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have told you that it is an impossibility. There is no such thing as
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impossibility for men and women who love. Giovanni answered, have you forgotten the
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last word you said to me before I sailed for Africa? He spoke gently
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now, and Sister Giovanna turned her face from him. You said, I
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will wait for you forever. Do you remember? Yes? I remember?
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Did you wait forever? Angela? She looked at him again, and then
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came forward, a little, drawn by an impulse she could not resist.
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Did I love another man that you reproach me? She asked? Such as
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my life has been, have I lived it as a woman lives who has
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forgotten? I know I have not, Yes, Giovanni, I have waited,
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but as one waits who hopes to meet in heaven the dear one who
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is dead on earth. Do you still find fault with me? Would you
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have rather had me go back to the world and to society after mourning you
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as long as a girl of nineteen could mourn for a man to whom she
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had not been openly engaged? Was I wrong? If you had really been
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dead and could have seen me, would you have wished that I were living
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differently? For a moment, he was moved and held out one hand towards
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her, hoping that she would come nearer. No, he answered, no,
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dear, But that was the only question, She said earnestly, and
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you have answered it. She would not take his hand, and Giovanni dropped
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his own with a gesture of disappointment. No, he replied, in a
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colder tone, It is not the question, for you have not told me
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all the truth. If I had not been gone five years, if I
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had come back the day before you took the last vows, would you have
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taken them? No? Indeed, if I had come back the very next
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day after, would you not have done your best to be set free?
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There was an instant's pause before she spoke. Then the answer came clear and
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distinct. No. Severi turned from her with an impatient movement of his compact
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head and tapped the carpeted floor with his heel. His answer broke from his
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lips harshly. You never loved me. She would have done wisely if she
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had been silent then, but she could not, for his words denied the
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truth that had ruled her life. Better than I knew, she said,
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better than I knew then, even then the words had hope in them.
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And now he was suddenly breathless. Yes, even now, the tide of
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truth lifted her from her feet and swept her onward helpless. Giovanni, Giovanni,
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do you think it cost me nothing to keep my word with God?
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But he had been disappointed too often now, and he could not believe at
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once it cost you less than it would to keep your faith with me?
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He answered, it is not true. Indeed, it is not true.
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Then let the truth win. Dear, All the rest is fable. He
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was at her side now. She had tried to resist, but not long,
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and her hand was in his, though her face was turned away.
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No, no, she faltered, but he would not let her speak.
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All a fable of sort sorrow and a dream of parting, sweetheart, And
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now we have waked to meet again, Your hand in my hand, my
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heart to your heart, your lips to mine. She almost shrieked aloud in
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terror, then and threw herself back bodily, as from the edge of a
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precipice. She might have fallen if he had not still held her hand,
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and as she recovered herself she tried to withdraw it. In her distress,
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words came that she regretted afterwards. Do you think that only you are human
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of us? Two? She cried in passionate protest against passionateself, against him,
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against life, but still twisting her wrist in his grip and trying to
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wrench it away. For the love of Heaven, Giovanni, No, for
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love of me, she broke from him, for when he felt that he
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was hurting her, his fingers relaxed, but she could not stay her own
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words. Yes, yes, I love you, she cried, almost fiercely,
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as she stepped backwards. Right or wrong, I cannot unmake myself.
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And as for lying to you, I will not. God is my witness
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that I mean to love you living as I have loved you dead, without
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one thought of earth or one regret for what might have been. But oh,
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may God forgive me too if I wish that we were side by side
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in one grave at peace, forever dead, Why with life before us?
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No, she interrupted him with rising energy. No, Giovanni, No,
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I was weak for a moment, but I am strong again. I can
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wait for you, and you will find strength to wait for me. You
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are so brave, Giovanni, You can be so generous when you will,
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you will wait too for what for the end that will be the beginning for
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God's great tomorrow, when you will come to be with me forever and ever,
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beyond the world and all parting and all pain. There was a deep
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appeal to higher things in her words, and in her voice too, but
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it did not touch him. He only knew that at the very moment when
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she had seemed to be near yielding, the terrible conviction of her soul had
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come once more between him and her. There is no beyond, he answered,
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chilled and sullen again. You live in a lying legend. Your life
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is a fable, and your sacrifice is a crime. The cruel words struck
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her tormented heart as icy hailstones bruised the half clad body of a starving child
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out in the storm. You hurt me very much, she said, in
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a low voice. Forgive me, he cried quickly, I do not mean
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to I forget that you believe your dreams, for I cannot live in visions
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as you do. I only see a blind force striking in the dark,
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a great injustice done to us, both a wrong I will undo. Come.
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What may you know my answer to that, you can undo nothing.
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I am not answered. Yet you say you love me. Prove it?
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Only my life can, said the nun. Only our two lives can prove
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our love. For we can live for each other. Still. Perhaps we
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shall be allowed to die for each other, and in each other we shall
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find strength to resist, not to resist love itself. Angela, no,
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not to resist all that is good and true in love. I cannot see
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what you see, he answered. Nothing human is beyond my comprehension, good
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or bad. But you cannot make a monk of me still less a saint,
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A Saint Louis of Gonzaga, who was too modest to look his own
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mother in the face. He laughed roughly, but checked himself at once,
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fearing to hurt her again. She turned to him with a look of gentle
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authority. In spite of what you have done tonight, she said, you
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are such a manly man that you can be the man, you will listen.
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If another woman tried to get your love, could you resist her?
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Would you? For love of me? She would have small chance. You
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know that well enough. There is another woman in me, Giovanni. Resist
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her. I do not understand. You must try. There is another woman
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in me, or what is left of her, and she is quite different
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from my real self. Resist her for my sake, as I am fighting
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her with all my strength. It was she who tempted you to bring me
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here by a trick you are ashamed of already. It was she that made
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me weak just now. But she is not the woman you love. She
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is not Angela, She is not worthy of you. And as for me,
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I hate her with all my soul. Severi had said truly that he
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could not understand, and instead of responding to her appeal, he turned impatient.
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Again. You choose your words well enough, he answered. But women's
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fine speeches persuade women, not men. No man was ever really moved to
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change his mind by a woman's eloquence. Though we will risk our lives for
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a look of yours, for a touch, for a kiss, Sister Giovanna
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sighed and turned from him. The razor edge of extremest peril was passed for
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the words that left him cold and unbelieving had brought back conviction to her soul.
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She could live for him, pray for him, die for him,
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but she would not send for him, nor lift a hand to loose the
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vows that bound her to the relifligious life. Yet she did not see that
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she was slowly driving him to a state of temper in which he might break
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all barriers. Very good women rarely understand men well until it is too late,
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because men very rarely make any appeal to what is good in woman,
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whereas they lie in wait for all her weaknesses. It is almost a proverbial
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truth that men of the most lawless nature, if not actually of the worst
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character, are often loved by saintly women, perhaps because the true saint sees
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some good in every one and believes that those who have least of it are
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the ones who need help most. Sister Giovanna was not a saint yet,
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but she was winning her way as she gained ground in the struggle that had
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been forced upon her that night so cruelly against her will, and having got
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the better of temptation, her charity made her think that Giovanni Severi was farther
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from it than he was outward. Danger was near at hand, just when
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inward peril was passed. As if he were weary of the contest of words,
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he left the writing table, sat down in a big chair farther away,
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and stared at the pattern in the carpet. You are forcing me to
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extremities, he said, after a long pause, and rather slowly. Unless
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you consent to appeal to the Pope for your freedom, I will not let
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you leave this house. You are in my power here, and here you
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shall stay. She was more surprised and offended than indignant at what she took
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for an empty threat, and she was not at all frightened. Women never
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are when one expects them to be. She drew her long cloak round her
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with simple dignity, crossed the room without haste, and stopped before the locked
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door, turning her head to speak to him. It is time for me
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to go, she said, gravely. Open the door at once, please.
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She could not believe that he would refuse to obey her, but he
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did not move. He did not even look up as he answered. If
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I keep you a prisoner, there will be a search for you You may
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stay here a day, a week, or a month, but in the
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end you will be found here in my rooms and set free. The nun
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answered from the door with some contempt. Not as you think. You will
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be expelled from your order for scandalous behavior in having spent a night, or
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a week or a month in an officer's lodging. What will you do then?
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If such a thing were possible, I would tell the truth, and
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I should be believed. But her anger was already awake. The thing is
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very possible, Giovanni answered, and no one will believe you. It will
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be out of the question for you to go back to your convent, even
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for an hour, Even if the Mother Superior were willing, it could not
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be done. In the Middle Ages, you would have been sent to a
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prison for penitence for the rest of your life. Nowadays you will simply be
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turned out of your order with public disgrace. The papers will be full of
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your story. Your aunt will make rome ring with it. What do you
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mean by all this, cried the sister, breaking out at last, are
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you trying to frighten me? No? I wish you to know that I
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will let nothing stand between you and me. Nothing absolutely nothing. He repeated
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the word with cold energy. When it is known that you have been here
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for twenty four hours, you will be forced to marry me. Nothing else
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can save you from infamy. Even Madame Bernard will not dare to give you
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shelter, for she will lose every pupil she has if it is found out
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that she is harboring a nun who has broken her A vulgar, bad character
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who has been caught in an officer's lodgings. That is what they will call
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you. At first, she had not believed that he was in earnest,
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but she could not long mistake the tone of a man determined to risk much
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more than life and limb for his desperate purpose. Her just anger leaped up
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like a flame. Are you an utter scoundrel? After all? Have you
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no honor left? Is there nothing in you to which a woman can appeal?
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You talk of being human, you prate of your man's nature, and
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in the same breath you threaten an innocent girl with public infamy if she will
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not disgrace herself of her own free will. Is that your love? Did
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I give you mind for that? Shame on you, and shame on me
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for being so deceived. Her voice rang like steel, and the thrust of
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her deadly reproach pierced deep. He was on his feet in the impulse of
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self defense before she had half done, and trying to silence her. He
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was at her side, calling her by her name, but she would not
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hear him. No, I believed in you, she went on. I
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trusted you, I loved you. But I have loved a villain and believed
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a liar, and I am a prisoner under a coward's roof. Beseeching,
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he tried to lay his hand upon her sleeve. She mistook his meaning.
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Take care, she cried, and suddenly the revolver was in her hand.
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Take care, I say, a nun is only a woman after all.
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He threw himself in front of her in an instant, his arms wide out,
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and as the muzzle came close against his chest, he gave the familiar
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word of command in a loud, clear tone. Fire. Their eyes met,
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and they were both mad. If you despise me for loving you beyond
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honor and disgrace, then fire, for I would rather die by your hand
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and then live without you. I am ready pull the trigger. Let the
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end be here. This instant he believed that she would do it, and
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for one awful moment she had felt that she was going to kill him.
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Then she lowered the weapon and laid it on the chair beside her with slow
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deliberation, though her hands shook so much that she almost dropped it. As
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if no longer seeing him, she turned to the door, folded her hands
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on the panel, and leaned her forehead against them. He heard her voice,
29:33
low and trembling, forgive us our sins, as we forgive them that
29:38
trespass against us. His own hand was on the revolver to do what she
29:44
had refused to do, as when the cyclone whirls on itself, just beyond
29:48
the still storm center and strikes all aback the vessel it has driven before it
29:55
for hours. So the man's passion had turned to destroy him, but the
30:00
Holy word stayed his hand. Angela, forgive me, he cried in agony.
30:07
The nun heard him, raised her head and turned. His suffering was
30:12
visible and appalling to see, but she found speech to soothe it. You
30:18
did not know what you were saying. I know what I said. He
30:22
could hardly speak. You did not mean to say it when you brought me
30:27
here, she was prompting him gently. No, he almost whispered the one
30:33
word, and then he regretted it. I hardly know what I meant to
30:38
say, he went on more firmly. But I know what I meant to
30:42
accomplish. That is the truth, such as it is. I saw this
30:48
afternoon that I should never persuade you to ask for your freedom unless I could
30:52
talk to you alone where you must hear me. The chance came unexpectedly,
30:56
and I took it, for it would never have come again again. I
31:00
had no other place. I had not thought of what I should say,
31:04
but I was ready to risk everything, all for all. As I have
31:08
done. You have, indeed, the nun said, slowly, while he
31:14
hesitated, and I have failed. Forgive me, if you can, it
31:18
was for love of you and for your sake. For my sake, you
31:22
should be true and brave and kind, answered the sister. But you ask
31:29
forgiveness, and I forgive you, and I will try to forget too.
31:33
If I cannot do that, I can at least believe that you are mad,
31:37
for no man in his senses would think of doing what you have threatened.
31:41
If you wish to live so that I may tell God in my prayers
31:45
that I would have been your wife if I could, and that I hoped
31:48
to meet you in heaven. Then, for my sake, be a man
31:52
and not a weakling willing to stoop to the most contemptible villainy to cheat a
31:56
woman. Your brother was nearly killed in doing his duty here, and you
32:01
have taken his place. Make it your true calling, as I have made
32:07
it mine to nurse the sick. At any moment, either of us may
32:12
be called to face danger till we die. We can feel that we are
32:15
living the same life for the same hope. Is that nothing? The same
32:22
life a nun and a soldier? Why not if we risk it that others
32:28
may be safe and in the same hope. Ah, No, Angela,
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that is where it all breaks down. No, you will live to believe
32:37
it is there that all begins. Now let me go. Severi shook his
32:44
head sadly. She was so unapproachably good. He thought, what chance had
32:49
a mere man like himself of really understanding her splendid, saintly delusion. Paika
32:55
had turned the key on the outside and had taken it out, obeying his
33:00
orders. But Giovanni had another like it in his pocket, and now unlocked
33:06
and opened the door. The nun went out, drawing her black hood quite
33:09
over her head so that it concealed her face. And Giovanni followed her downstairs
33:15
and held an umbrella over her while she got into the carriage, for it
33:19
was still raining. Good night, he said, as Pika shut the door.
33:25
He did not hear her answer, and the brewom drove away. When
33:30
he could no longer see the lights, he went upstairs again, and after
33:35
he had shut the door, he stood a long time just where she had
33:38
stood last. The revolver was still on the chair under the bright electric light.
33:45
He fancied that the peculiar faint odor of her heavy cloth cloak, just
33:50
dampened by the few drops of rain that had reached it, still hung in
33:53
the air. With the slightest effort of memory, her voice came back to
33:59
his ears, now gentle, now gravely reproachful, but at last ringing like
34:05
steel on steel in her generous anger. She had been present in that room
34:10
in his power during more than twenty minutes, and now she was gone and
34:15
would never come again. He had done the most rash inconsequent and uselessly bad
34:22
deed that had ever suggested itself to his imagination, and now that all was
34:28
over, he wondered how he could have been at once so foolish, so
34:31
brutal, and so daring. Perhaps five years of slavery in Africa had unsettled
34:37
his mind. He had heard of several similar cases, and his own might
34:43
be another. He had read of officers who had lost all sense of responsibility
34:47
after months of fighting in the tropics, perhaps from having borne responsibility too long
34:53
and unshared, who had come back after doing brave and honorable work, to
34:59
find them so morally crippled for civilized life, and no longer able to distinguish
35:04
right from wrong or truth from falsehood. It had all happened quickly but illogically,
35:10
as events follow each other in dreams. From the moment when he had
35:15
gone to the convent hospital with Monseigneur Sara Sneska, till the Bruham drove away
35:20
in the dark, taking Angela back, he understood for the first time how
35:24
men whom every one supposed to be of average uprightness could commit atrocious crimes.
35:31
He shuddered to think what must have happened if a mere chance had not changed
35:36
his mood, making him ask Angela's forgiveness and prompting him to let her go.
35:43
She had touched him, that was all. If her voice had sounded
35:46
only a little differently at the great moment, if her eyes had not looked
35:51
at him with just that expression, if her attitude had been a shade less
35:55
resolute, what might not have happened? For the conviction that he could force
36:01
her to be his wife if he chose to keep her a prisoner had taken
36:06
possession of him suddenly, when all his arguments had failed. It had come
36:10
with irresistible strength. The simplicity of the plan had been axiomatic, Its immediate
36:17
execution had been in his power, and while she was within the circle of
36:22
his senses, his passion had been elemental and overwhelming. He tried to excuse
36:28
himself with that men in such cases had done worse things by far, and
36:34
at least Angela had been safe from violence. But his own words accused him.
36:39
He had threatened her. He had talked of bringing infamy and public disgrace
36:45
on the woman he loved in order to force her to marry him. He
36:50
had thought only of that end, and not at all of the vile means.
36:54
It all took shape now and looked ugly enough. He felt the blood
37:00
surging to his sun burnt forehead for shame, perhaps for the first time in
37:04
his life, and the sensation was painfully humiliating. It made a deep impression
37:10
on him when he realized it. Often enough, he had said that honor
37:15
was his God, and he had taken pleasure in proving that he who makes
37:20
the rule of honor the law of his life, must of necessity be a
37:24
good man, incapable of any falsehood or meanness or cruelty, and therefore truthful,
37:30
generous, and kind. In other words, such a one must really
37:36
be all that a good Christian aims at being. The religion of honor,
37:39
Giovanna used to say, was of a higher nature than Christianity, since Christians
37:45
might sin, repent, and be forgiven again and again to the biblical seventy
37:52
times seven times. But a man who did one dishonorable deed in his whole
37:57
life ceased to be a man of honor. For ever having that certainty before
38:02
his eyes, how could he ever be in danger of a fall. But
38:07
now he was ashamed, for he had fallen. He had forsaken his deity
38:12
and his faith the infamy he had threatened to bring on Angela had come back
38:16
upon him and branded him. It was not because he had brought her to
38:22
his lodging to talk with him alone, for he saw nothing dishonorable in that,
38:27
since he felt sure that no harm could come to her in consequence.
38:31
The dishonor lay in having thought of the rest afterwards, and in having been
38:36
on the point of carrying out his threat. If he had kept her a
38:40
prisoner only a few hours, the whole train of results would most probably have
38:45
followed. If he had not let her go till the next day, they
38:50
would have been inevitable and irretrievable. Nothing could have saved sister Giovanna. Then,
38:58
as he saw the truth more and more clearly, shame turned into something
39:01
more like horror, and as different from mere humiliation as remorse is from repentance.
39:08
Thinking over what he had done, he attempted to put himself in Angela's
39:14
place, and to see or guess how he would behave if some stronger being
39:20
tried to force him to choose between public ignominy and breaking a solemn oath.
39:25
Moreover, he endeavored to imagine what the nun as distinguished from the mere woman
39:31
must have felt when she found herself trapped in a man's rooms and locked in.
39:37
Even his unbelief instinctively placed Sister Giovanna higher in the scale of goodness than
39:42
Angela Chiaramante. He was an unbeliever, but not a scoffer, for somehow
39:49
the rule of honor influenced him there too. Nuns could really be saints and
39:53
were often holy women, and the fact that they were mistaken, in his
39:58
opinion, only made their sacrifice more complete, since they were to receive no
40:04
reward where they hoped for an eternal one. And he no longer doubted that
40:08
Sister Giovanna was as truly good in every sense as any of them. What
40:15
must she not have felt less than an hour ago when he had entered the
40:20
room, telling her roughly that she was in his power, beyond all reach
40:23
of help. Yet he had cherished the allusion that he was an honorable man
40:30
who would never take cruel advantage of any woman, still less of an innocent
40:35
girl. Far less still of a nursing nun whose dress alone would have protected
40:40
her from insult amongst any men, but criminals. In his self contempt,
40:46
he hung his head as he sat alone by the table, half fancying that
40:51
if he raised his eyes he would see his own image accusing him. Sister
40:55
Giovanna herself would have been surprised if she could have known how complete her victory
41:00
had been. His God had forsaken him in his great need, and though
41:06
he could not believe in hers, he was asking himself what inward strength that
41:10
must be, which could make a woman in extremest danger so gentle and yet
41:15
so strong, so quick to righteous anger, and yet so ready to forgive
41:21
what he could never pardon in himself. End of Chapter fifteen.