Dariel: A Romance of Surrey

"As we three set forth again, with our horses looking considerate, – for these are better endowed than we are with knowledge both of sky and ground, – a little toss of white softness met us, harbouring into our eyes and beards. The ears and forelocks of our horses pricked themselves with a glittering fringe; and then their manes were like a fountain, and the bow of the saddle became an arch. Presently we could see nothing at all, but left it to them to find the way, which they did without any complaint, not even making a merit of obedience. I let the bridle fall, and wished that I could only submit to God, as these good creatures do our will, and never even seek for thanks.

"We went on thus, with the snow-cloud thickening, and black rocks or a bough of pine jumping out of the white against us, when suddenly my horse pulled up, and his chin was striking something. He seemed to know it, and so did I. It was the black rail of my troika, in which we had enjoyed so many a summer jaunt, in the days when my Oria loved me. The carriage was standing in the middle of the road, but there was no Oria in it, neither any other human being, nor even a horse in front of it. The cushions were gone: the contents were snow.

"'Her Highness must be close at hand,' cried Stepan, leaning over it, 'and yonder is Rakhan's pleasure-lodge. God grant that the wolves have not gotten her!'

"'One wolf hath had her; but he will no more;' I answered, with my heart on fire through all the snow that froze my breast. 'Thou, and Usnik, hold the horses; I will see to this myself.'

"Then I stamped on the road, and shook the snow off, and saw that it was red with my own blood where the dead man's sword had touched me; and following the shelter of some trees, where the streaks of the storm went by me, I stood at the door of a house built of logs, with plaster slabbed between them. Thrice I knocked with the hilt of my sword, without drawing it from the scabbard, while I felt that the crisis of my life was come – the time that comes only once, thank God, in His creature's three score years and ten.

"'How soon thou art back! How glad I am! This is so kind and faithful of thee.' It was Oria's voice, and I ground my teeth. She expected her new love, Rakhan.

"Then she drew back the bolt, and stood before me, glittering in all her perfect beauty, but pale as a ghost at this surprise. 'My lord!' she gasped, for she was always timid; and I said, 'Yes, thy proper lord.'

"Her hand went to her heart, as if it were failing her in this amazement, and she spread the other arm to me; but I drew back and gazed at her. 'Never touch me more,' I said; and her soft eyes fell before the flash of mine.

"'What have I done to enrage thee, Imar? Thou hast never spoken to me like this? I have left thy roof. But how could I help it? I have done what women may not do. But it was only for thy sake – and oh, my lord is wounded!'

"'Yes, through thee. But what is that?' I stretched my scabbarded sword across, as she with a rush of tears approached. 'Thy paramour lies dead for this. And what art thou? Liar, adulteress, Zanska.'

"That last is the lowest word that can be used to any woman. She gazed at me for a moment with a look that will never leave me, and then in a low clear voice she said, —

"'It is enough. No woman of my race must hear that name from her lord, and live.'

"She bowed her head, as if receiving the sentence of death submissively, and then walked slowly towards the inner room. At the door she turned, and waved her hand with a proud and calm farewell to me. I knew what it meant, and sprang towards her, but my scabbard struck the door-post, my feet were cased in ice and snow, and I fell on my back in the outer room, as a flash came from the inner.

"'Help, help! My lord will bleed to death! Lady Oria! Baboushka!' The voice was not Stepan's, but Kobaduk's; and I felt my boiling blood run cold.

'What dost thou here? What have I done?' I shouted, rising clumsily, for my wound had burst forth through the fall. 'Old man, thy mistress hath shot herself. What dost thou in Rakhan's service?'

"'Nought have I to do with Rakhan. Sûr Imar knows not what he saith. Baboushka and I have been with the lady, all the way from Karthlos, till I went to yon village for food for us.'

"I fell against the wall, and stared at him. Then Stepan stood also in the doorway, and his voice was like the moan of death.

"'It is true, Sûr Imar. The troika hath broken down at this gate. The Princess Oria hath never seen Rakhan; neither came she to see him.'

"I laughed, I shouted, as at some fine joke. 'I see, I see my sweet mistake. He came not from her; he came to seek her. Ah, but he met the wrong one; the wrong one it was, and yet the right.'

"What matter what I did or said? Henceforth in all my life, what matters? And when it is over, can I be saved? If so, it will be for Oria's sake. Thank God that she knew before she died, slain by the weapon which she had brought to protect her honour, – and Rakhan would have tasted cold lead, I trow, if his miscreant scheme had entrapped her, – by the mercy of God, she knew in that short hour the hellish fraud which slew her.

"The bullet had not touched her heart, and she passed away as a flower fades, drooping from some inward harm. My pistols were left in my holsters, but I loaded Oria's again, that I might not be slow to follow her, the moment she could not see it done. But she opened her eyes for the last time, when they seemed to have lost all sight of earth, and she tried to lay her hand on mine, with deep love looking back upon me through the cloud of Death.

"'For Orry's sake, for babe's, for mine,' she whispered with her latest breath.

"I pledged my word; but how often was it almost beyond my power to keep! And one of my pledges was lost already; when I got home – to my desolate and wretched home – there was only my baby Dariel left, to link me to this altered world. Marva was gone back to her Osset tower, and it seemed better so; for I had brought her husband's lying letter, handed me by Kobaduk, and purporting to come from her. To wit, an urgent summons for my wife to fly to my bedside and nurse me through a dangerous wound at Patigorsk. This letter I meant to place on Marva's lap, and ask if she were privy to it. I hope not, I pray not; for it would be almost too black-hearted, too treacherous for the worst woman's revenge. I hope she believed that Oria, whom she always hated, had left home through her own desire, to meet Rakhan in that festive town. For a woman has not strong faith always in the virtue of other women. To her own faith she will be true; but she doubts about theirs too shrewdly. Women of the common sort, I mean. My Oria was too sweet for that."

CHAPTER XXVII

IMAR'S TALE – EXILE

"You understand from what I said, that my only son was gone as well, the eldest born of our fervent love, to whom with a pleasant conceit I had given the name of 'Origen,' – born of Oria. The other was named from the place of her own birth, arriving unexpectedly, when we went in the troika to see the great post-house just built by the Russians on their grand new road, which cuts the great mountain-chain beneath the towering peak of Kazbek.

"Unnatural it may seem, and sluggish, and even an abject thing to those who have never lost their courage; but when I was carried up the steps of Karthlos, with the body of my wife on the other litter, and the carpenter ordered to remember my length in the boards he was cutting out for her, – for we are a thrifty race, holding fast the hide when we have lost the horns, – and I managed to say at my own threshold – 'Let me see my babies'; behold there was only one brought to me, and she could not walk, nor say 'Dadda,' as babies of every language do.

"Nevertheless, without excuse, she took my liking as of right, lying so, and smiling at me with the faith of baby eyes, and the beginning of a clever nose, and pink lips parted like a berry, as if I had a breast for her.

"'Sweetie, it is thy father, not thy mother,' the woman who bore her said, 'and if he hath no breast for thee, his heart shall be all the nigher. Sûr Imar, this is all the Lord hath left thee for thy home and heart. Gather thy life up, for her sake.'

"I saw the likeness of her mother in her, and she came into my helpless arms, and laid her soft face in my beard, and played with the bandage round my wound. And they say that she spoke her first word thus; but women must not be trusted, when their imaginations move them.

"As soon as I was able to think more clearly, I asked for my boy, Origen. They told me, as soon as they thought it safe, that on the second day after my departure, the very day of my fatal deeds, the poor little fellow, scarce three years old, was killed through his own high courage. My sister, who reigned in the Castle now, had given orders that he should be kept apart from her own child Hafer, and in the top rooms, where the nursery was with a separate staircase to it. Perhaps she desired that even in childhood there should be no acquaintance between the offspring of Oria and her own. But my little Orry was as strong and active as an average child of twice his years, and he could not endure to be cooped up thus. He contrived to get out of a loop-hole, and thence to the head of the outer staircase, and so upon the table-cliff behind the house, where he ran frolicking among the snow. This rock is perpendicular upon all its southern face, and the dumb child Hafer, seeing Orry's delight, ran out to share it from a lower door, while his mother was away upon some business, with only two trusty servants.

"Soon one of our women heard my boy shouting, and laughing at the other child who could not shout; and instead of tempting them in with a sweetmeat, the thoughtless girl ran after them. Of course they ran away, and before she could catch them, both vanished over the brink of the cliff, where a crest of snow obscured it; and verily she was afraid to go back to the house, and tell what she had done. She concealed herself behind the corner, and left others to find out the loss. But it was not very long unknown, for Marva was coming along the ravine upon her return to Karthlos, in the teleka which had brought her first, and which she kept at the posting-house. She saw the two children lying there after their fall of two hundred feet, her own child unhurt in a pile of snow, and my little darling on the rocky floor, with his poor head dashed to pieces.

"For her bitter turn against me, I forgave her, when I heard of her tenderness to my poor child. It is at such times that the greatness of a woman's nature shows itself. Happily she knew not as yet of my encounter with her husband, which must have been taking place just then, but forgetting all her grievances against me she took both little ones into her carriage, and drove at all speed to the posting-house. There she ordered a private room, and allowed no one to come near them, except her own Baboushka, while she sent to a village five miles off for the only doctor to be heard of. He came as soon as he could, but she had abandoned all hope by that time, as any but a woman must have done long since, and there was no one to receive him. For Marva had sent her own child home in dread of the effect upon his little brain, and at night she appeared at the gate of Karthlos, with the baby heir cold as a stone in her arms. His pretty red cross, and his green velvet dress, and above all the billows of his golden hair still flowing from the linen swathes of Death – when the women saw these they bewailed the child of Imar and of Oria, almost as if they had lost their own. Before my return, he was buried in our little churchyard of the glen; and his mother lies beside him.

"I have told you a melancholy tale; but when the Lord has tried one child beyond His other children, and almost beyond the strength vouchsafed to the best of them to bear it, something good shall be yet in store; and happiness may spring up again, though pleasure be but a memory. And the soul that has passed through rough affliction and the long cold shadow, is led more kindly into the paths of shelter, and content with quietude.

"I have done enough of harm, my friend. I have broken up two households; I have wasted half my tribe in war, and slain a good few Russians. These you may slay by the thousand, without checking the supply of them; you are only guilty of their blood, and the tears of those who loved them. But my own losses taught me what it is to make others desolate. And the rest of my life, please God, shall go to redeem the wrongs of wrath and war."

CHAPTER XXVIII

SANGUINE STILL

When the Prince Imar's tale was told, and I thought of all he had been through, I could not find it in my heart, or even in good manners, to crave explanation of certain points which had not been made quite clear to me. For any such inquiry might appear to proceed from a hankering to hear more about his darling daughter. He had enjoyed, beyond our chance, a quantity of romantic love; and though he might not be hard on mine, remembering his own tender time, and allowing for like state in others, on the other hand that lesson might have taught him how to look at this, before it went too far to stop. And it is not in the gift of men, or at least of such as I am, to be certain how a brother man may take what seems so clear to self. But while I was buried in these thoughts, he spoke again quite cheerfully, and as if he had understood them all, but would not blame me for them.

"From what I have said, you will perceive that I have now two things to think of. The first, and dearest, is my own child, the daughter of the blameless wife, whom I lost through my own madness. The other is my duty towards the people who have been so true to me; who can be raised by one who knows them, to a better and more peaceful life, and the first condition of happiness the rule of Christianity. We have had the name for ages; but we have never known the meaning; of which you too must wait to learn till sorrow has washed the eyes of pride.

"That vile blood-feud, the curse of the mountains, the cause of a myriad murders, could not exist if we were more than mere ticket-porters of the cross. Therefore I am doing my best, without aid of your good societies, which would get into trouble with Russia at once, to print 10,000 copies of the New Testament, in the Lesghian tongue. In a short time now my period of exile, fourteen years, will expire; and the rest of my life will be given up to the spread of good-will amongst us. Thus alone can I hope to have done some good to balance my evil deeds. But the difficulty of the thing is this. Not a man in a hundred of us can read, and perhaps not a woman of all the race. To meet this I am preparing primers, horn-books, alphabets, all the rudiments; and I shall set up a school in every village. It is too much for one short life, but at least I can begin it, and when once begun, it will go on, for the Russians will not stop me. The Russians have been very good to me, and they hate the rule of Islam, which is warlike and implacable. The Commander of the Caucasus is a man of great humanity. If he could have done as he liked, I should have received at once a free pardon; and as it is, my revenues have never been confiscated. He knows that I would be the last to attempt or join in another insurrection. There never was a chance, since time began, of a great Caucasian nation. We are split into about seventy tribes, and each loathes all the others. Young as I was, when I joined Shamyl, the folly of it was clear to me; and my father perished not by a foreign but a neighbour's hand, as usual. That may be my fate also, especially when I attempt reforms. But if so, I shall have done my best to redeem a life of violence."

As I looked at him, I could wonder no more that Dariel thought so little of all other men compared with him. Here was a man, one might well believe, who never knew what fear was, suspicion, falsehood, meanness, envy, or even the love of money. It had been the sense of justice only, and no greed or jealousy, which had led him to reject the demand of Rakhan, his father's murderer; whence all the disasters of his life ensued. And it seemed to me that if ever there had lived a man of honour and kind heart, who deserved the favour of Heaven and the reverence of his fellows, it was this man long oppressed by some mysterious curse of destiny.

My voice was trembling with something more than regard for my own interests, when I fetched him back from his great ideas, which were ever so far above my scope, to the matter which concerned me most.

"Sûr Imar, I am quite small of mind, and would rather receive than do good things. And of all the blessings of the blessed world, you know the one that I value most." He smiled a little, for his face was always ready to yield to gentle turns.

"My friend, I know what your desire is. You want to rob me of my one delight. But I feel myself safe for a long while yet. I rely upon many obstacles. In the first place, will your own discretion and judgment bear you out in wishing, even if you had my consent, to connect yourself with a race of such dark fortunes and sad calamities, and crimes as well – for crimes they are? And perhaps there are more before us. I have told you my tale, to show you this. I believe not of course in any heathen conceptions – Até, Nemesis, Ananché, or what not? But who can deny that there is an inheritance of evil quite beyond our power to explain?"

"That may be so. But my one prayer is to be allowed to risk such penalty."

"You speak like an Englishman," he answered, looking at me very gravely; "other men equally brave would decline, through the force of superstition. But I have only begun my objections yet. For instance, what would your own friends have to say about this question? You have not mentioned it yet, I suppose, as nothing was likely to come of it. But without that, you must know pretty nearly how your friends would take it."

I answered in so many words that they left me to follow my own judgment now; that while things continued as they were, it would be wrong of me to forsake them, as they could never get on without me; but that a change for the better might be expected now with all confidence, for England was sick of that farce so ridiculously called "free-trade," and then the land might feed her sons again, instead of giving them nothing but a weedy grave.

"It is the standing joke of Europe," he replied; "there is nothing to compare with it in history. Your benevolence is of the highest order, because so purely unconscious. But it will require another generation to restore your sanity, unless you have a war that blocks your supplies; and then how simple! That man who can fast for forty days may challenge the nation, when war is declared, and outlive them all, though they eat all they can get. But let me not interrupt you."

What is the loaf compared to love? The dealers and the middlemen have the chief pull of the former. Turn me into a Radical, if the labourer gets an ounce the more for his fourpence, than he often did of old, when his right hand stood him in good stead, and his Saturday night was certain. But a foreigner is allowed to show the common-sense, which an Englishman is hooted down for hinting.

"We shall never be as we were," I said, "we shall always be poor, Sûr Imar. And I am only a younger son. If it is your duty to repel me for that reason, I have nothing more to say."

"We will not part like this," he answered, feigning, as every man should do, to be blind when another man is moved; "there are many things in your way, my friend; but I will not make the worst of them. You have my respect and liking, which I do not give to every one. But in spite of all I have gone through or perhaps by reason of it, I have some romance about me still. You say that you love my daughter, and I thoroughly believe it. But does she love you?"

"I have no reason to think so yet. What right have I to hope for it? She is far above me in every way. But if you do not forbid me – why I could try – I could try my best, you know."

It was almost more than he could do to look with becoming gravity at the sadly waning phase of hope depicted on my countenance. He smiled, because he could not help it. And I smiled, to keep time with him.

"You are honest, at any rate," he said, "and that you have been from first to last. Of English modes of wooing, I know nothing; and they are not like ours. But this strikes me as an unusual thing; though perhaps all you ask is what you would call 'a fair field and no favour.' You shall have it, as far as I am concerned; though I will not pledge myself afterwards. But remember that in a month or so, we return to our native mountains."

This was awful news to me; and I seemed to have no fair chance left. Moreover I felt very deep alarm concerning that Prince Hafer, Dariel's cousin, about whom I had heard so much, and of whom I had seen too much already. Was he the son of that terrible woman, Marva – Sûr Imar's sister – and that hateful man, and horrible plotter, Rakhan, Prince of the Ossets? I had longed to ask his Uncle Imar for more particulars, about him, and especially what he was doing here, but my courage had failed me on that point. Alas that he was no longer dumb; and if he had fallen 200 feet in his childhood, no wonder that he could jump 10 now; for Nature always strives towards a balance. And if he could not jump 10 feet in height (which perhaps is more than any man even of the mountains has achieved), it was plain enough that he would prove a very awkward customer, whenever my sense of the gross injustice inflicted by his presence should urge me to attempt by hand or foot his desirable removal. But one thing I might ask, as I thought, without showing any impertinence, or reviving painful memories.

"Your sister, the Princess Marva, sir? I hope she continued to show good-will, and afforded you some comfort before you were banished from Daghestan. She herself remains there, I suppose?"

"Not in Daghestan, but in Ossetia, which lies to the west of the great Russian road that marks the division of the Mountain-range. No, I cannot say that she showed any sisterly feeling towards me, except the true sorrow for my child of which I spoke; and perhaps no woman who witnessed a scene of such distress could have helped being touched. But when I heard of her tender behaviour, and remembered that old scruples were partly removed by the death of the offender, I sent her all that she could claim, and much more, of her inheritance in goods and chattels. But it is impossible for her, as long as she continues Rakhan's widow, to show much affection for me, though I may hope that she has it in her heart. For unhappily that most fiendish and accursed institution, which I hope to begin to extirpate, by the spread of the Gospel and of education – the blood-feud is set up between us. By marriage she is an Osset, and among the Ossets she holds sway, like a petty Queen almost. Although she cannot have any vindictive feelings against me, after all her husband's behaviour to both of us, she must respect their customs, and not show herself too friendly. Therefore I take it as unusually kind and good on her part, that knowing how soon my time expires, she has sent her only son, Prince Hafer, to congratulate me, and to offer an ancient residence or Court-house of the Ossets, which stands very conveniently, for us to occupy on our return, till Karthlos (which is in a sad condition) can be put into good repair. That I call a true extension of the olive-branch; and it is the more remarkable to one who knows as I do that this infernal code, for I can call it nothing else, is supposed to be doubly binding when it inures betwixt near relatives. Blessed are they that never heard of it. No flight of time, no acts of kindness, no natural affections avail against it."

"It is horrible indeed," I said, "and nothing can be more un-English. We are the most sensible race in the world, as well as the most straightforward. 'Have it out and be done with it,' is our rule; no steel, no lead, no poison; but a fight with what the Lord has made."

"You also have your brutality, I fear. But it is not my place to talk of that, after all the kindness I have received among you. And you are wide awake to all your own virtues, so that I need not insist upon them. Is there anything more you would ask me?"

"Nothing, Sûr Imar. And I may have seemed to trespass already on your patience. But I have a brother who is wonderfully clever in all mechanical and chemical affairs. May I bring him to see your type-stamping process, and other beautiful devices? They are out of my line altogether; but he would appreciate all of them. And more than that he is gifted, as you are, with the faculty of languages. He is the genius, and I the dunce. May he come? He has nothing to do with the Press, and will not even talk of what he sees."