Marianela 24

Marianela 24

A stone was lost to geology, and the world would be the richer by a

great man!

 

Nela shivered as the dog leaped upon her and caressed her. The

affectionate creature, after jumping round and round her, whining and

barking with so much __EXPRESSION__ that it was almost like speaking,

set off running as fast as he could towards Aldeacorba. You might

have thought he was in chase of some wild game. Choto--unlike some

orators--seemed to speak when he barked.

 

* * * * *

 

Just at this time Teodoro Golfin was coming away from the Penáguilas'.

He was met by Choto, who, with voluble haste, told him--I know not

what. It was a fervent, fitful address, delivered between his gasps

for breath and gushes of eager anxiety. Golfin, though he understood

several languages, was not strong in the canine tongue, and paid no

particular heed. Choto leaped up and round him, jerking out barks

from his moist jaws, some short and sharp as insults, others soft and

coaxing, and then again threats. Teodoro meanwhile stood still, his

attention was struck by the dog's manner; and Choto, seeing that he had

made himself understood to a certain extent, began to run in a contrary

direction to Golfin's homeward road. The doctor followed him. "Very

well," he muttered, "that way then."

 

Choto retraced his steps, as if to make sure that Golfin was following

him, and then he trotted on again. At some little distance from the

house Golfin heard a voice saying:

 

"Well, Choto, what is it you want?"

 

He suspected at once that it was Nela. He paused and listened, hidden

in the shadow of a beech-tree, and soon perceived a little figure

standing out from the stone wall and walking very slowly. The shadows

of the brambles prevented his seeing her very distinctly. He set out

to follow her at some little distance, quitting the path and walking

on the turf, so as to make no noise. Beyond a doubt it was Nela. He

recognized her perfectly when they got upon open ground, where there

were no dark shadows cast by trees or shrubs.

 

The girl now went faster and faster; at last she began to run, and

Golfin ran too. After this unequal race had gone on for some distance,

Nela sat down on a stone. At her feet was the sloping basin of La

Trascava, black and hideous in the gloom. Golfin waited a moment; then

he very softly went nearer to the girl. Choto was seated in front of

her, squatted on his hind quarters, with his fore paw stretched out,

and gazing at her with the gravity of a sphinx. Nela stared into the

depths below, and suddenly starting to her feet she began to go quickly

down the slope--slipping rather than running. With one bound Teodoro

stood by the abyss, roaring in stentorian tones: "Nela! Nela!"

 

He looked down, but could see nothing in the dark chasm; he could hear

Choto whining as he ran round and round the ridge, lower and lower in

spirals, as if he were being sucked in by some eddy in the dreadful

gulf. Teodoro thought of going down himself and cautiously took a step

or two; then he called again, and a voice from below answered: "Señor."

 

"Come up this minute."

 

No answer.

 

"Come up, I say."

 

Presently he could just see the child's face in the lowest visible

depths of the horrible chasm. Choto, after snuffing at the opening,

came up again, round and round the basin as before; Nela too was

climbing up, but very slowly. Indeed, she stopped, and repeated feebly:

"Señor?..."

 

"I tell you come up. What are you doing here?"

 

Nela came a little further.

 

"Come--quickly. I have something to tell you."

 

"To tell me?"

 

"Yes--something I must tell you at once."

 

Nela crawled up; but Teodoro did not feel sure that he had triumphed

till he had seized her hand and held it tightly to lead her away with

him.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER XIX.

 

NELA IS TAMED.

 

 

They walked on a short distance without speaking. Teodoro Golfin,

for all his learning, wisdom, and eloquence, felt as ignorant and

as helpless as Nela, and less disposed for speech than usual. She

followed him unresistingly, and he accommodated his steps to those of

the child-woman, like a man taking a boy to school. At a turn in the

road where three enormous white stones stood up, weather-worn till

they looked like bleached skeletons, the doctor sat down, and placing

Nela in front of him, as if she were on her trial for some grave

delinquency, he held her by both hands and said solemnly:

 

"What were you going to do there?"

 

"I--where?"

 

"Down there. You know very well what I mean. Answer me plainly, as you

would answer your confessor or your father."

 

"I have no father," replied Nela with a faintly mutinous accent.

 

"That is true--but suppose me to be your father, and answer me. What

were you going to do?"

 

"My mother is down there," she answered dully.

 

"Your mother is dead. Do you not know that dead people are gone to

another world, or altogether away?"

 

"She is there," said Nela positively, and looking back towards the spot

she had left.

 

"And you thought you would go to her. Is that it? That is to say, you

meant to kill yourself."

 

"Yes, Señor, that is it."

 

"And do you not know that your mother committed a great sin in killing

herself, and you would do the same if you followed her example? Were

you never taught that?"

 

"I do not think anyone ever told me anything of the kind. And if I want

to kill myself, who is to prevent me?"

 

"But you yourself--without being told--cannot you feel that God cannot

be pleased with us for getting rid of our lives? Poor child--left to

your own instincts without any teaching, or religion, or loving and

disinterested guidance!--What ideas can you have of God, of a future

life, of death? What makes you fancy your mother is there? Do you call

a few lifeless bones your mother! Can you believe that she is still

alive, thinking of you and loving you down in that pit? Did no one

ever tell you that when once our souls have left our bodies they never

return to them again? Do you not know that a tomb, a grave, whatever it

may be, never contains anything but dust and foul corruption? What do

you think God is like? Like some grand and solemn man who sits above

us with his arms folded, and who allows us to play with our lives,

while, in His place, we see some sprite, hobgoblin or fetich of our

fancy?--Your master, Nela, who is so wise and good, did he never talk

to you about such things?"

 

"Oh! yes he did.--But it is of no use to tell me them now...."

 

"Of no use now--when you want to kill yourself? Tell me, silly child,

did you think that by throwing yourself into that hole you would be any

better off?"

 

"Yes, Señor."

 

"In what way?"

 

"I should feel none of the things I feel now, but something else, much

better--and I should be with my mother."

 

"I see you are more silly than wicked," said Golfin laughing. "Now, be

quite honest with me. Do you owe me any grudge?"

 

"No indeed. I owe no one any grudge--least of all you, Señor, who have

been so kind to me, and have made my master see."

 

"Very good--but that is not all; I not only want you to like me, but

you must trust me and tell me all your little secrets. Strange little

secrets are hidden in your mind, little woman, and you must tell them

all to me--every one. You will see, I shall not be hard upon you; I

shall make a very kind father confessor."

 

Nela smiled a forlorn smile; then bending her head, she fell on her

knees.

 

"No, silly child, that is not the way; sit down by me--come here," said

Golfin, gently drawing her to a seat by his side. "I fancy you were

going crazy for want of some one to whom you could tell everything;

is it not so? And you are to conceal nothing. You are indeed alone in

the world, poor child.--Come, Nela, let us see; tell me first of all

why--now be very attentive--why you took it into your head that you wanted to kill yourself?"