June 9, 2025 • 19 mins
Step into the thrilling narrative of Hugh Walpoles Prelude to Adventure. The story unfolds around Olva Dune, a Cambridge undergraduate who commits a murder and in that moment, senses the divine presence. The novel masterfully encapsulates the essence of Francis Thompsons poem, The Hound of Heaven - a tale of a soul in dread, relentlessly pursued by Gods love. Its highly recommended to enrich your experience by familiarizing yourself with the poem prior to diving into the novel. The story intrigued Carl Jung so much that he praised it as a psychological masterpiece in a letter to Walpole. Hergesheimer likened the suspense and plot to that of a Poe masterpiece, yet grounded in the relatable human experience. The narrative is a riveting blend of suspense, love, fear, triumph, all set against the backdrop of the captivating Cornish sea.
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter thirteen of the Prelude to Adventure by Hugh Walpole.
This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter thirteen
Missus craven one. Afterwards, lying in his easy chair before
his fire, he was allowed a brief and beautiful respite.
It was almost as though he were already dead, as
(00:21):
though consciously he might lie there apart from the world,
freed from the eternal pursuit, at last, unharassed, and hold
with both hands that glorious certainty Margaret. He had a
picture of her. Now he was lying where he had tumbled,
there on the floor, with the silver trays and boxes,
(00:43):
the odd tables, the gim cracked chairs all about him.
Slowly he had opened his eyes and had gazed instantly,
as though the gates of heaven had rolled back for him,
into her face. She was kneeling on the floor. One
hand was behind his head, the other bathed his forehead.
He could see her breasts, so little, so gentle, rise
(01:06):
and fall beneath her thin dress, and her great dark
eyes caught his soul and held it. In that one
great moment, God withdrew for the first time in his
knowledge of her. They were alone, and in the kiss
that he gave to her. When he drew her down
to him, they met for the first time death and
(01:27):
the anger of God might come to him. That great
moment could never be taken from him. It was his.
He had seen that she was gravely distressed with his fainting,
and he had been able to give her no reason
beyond the heat of the room. He could see that
she was puzzled, and felt that there was some mystery
there that she was not to know. But she too
(01:50):
had found in that last kiss a glorious certainty that
no other hazard could possibly destroy. He loved her, She
loved him. Let the gods thunder, But he knew nevertheless,
as he lay back there in the chair, that he
had received a sign that primrose path with Margaret was
(02:11):
not to be allowed him. And so sure was he
that now he could lie back and look at it
all as though he were a spectator, and wonder in
what way God intended to work it out. The other
side of him, the fighting, battling creature was for the
moment dormant. Soon Bunning would come in and then the
(02:31):
fight would begin again. But for the instant there was peace.
The first piece that he had known since that far
away evening in Saint Martin's Chapel, as with a drowning man,
it is said so now with Ova, his past life
stretched in panorama before him. He saw the high, rocky
gray building, with its rough shape and shaggy lichen, its
(02:55):
neglected courtyard, its iron barred windows, the gaunt tree like
witches that hemmed it, the white ribbon of road far
far below it, the shining gleam of the river hidden
by purple hills. He saw his father, huge, flowing gray beard,
eyes stuck like leeches on to his weather beaten face,
(03:17):
his gnarled and knotted hands. He saw himself, a tiny
boy with thin black hair and grave eyes, watching his
father as he bathed in the mill pool below the house.
His father rising naked from the stream, hung with the
mists of early morning, naked with enormous chest, huge flanks,
(03:39):
his beard black, thin and sweeping across his chest, his
great thigh shining with the dripping water, primitive primeval in
the heart of the early morning silence. Many many other
pictures of those first days, but always Ova and his
father moving together, speaking, but seldom sitting before the fire
(04:00):
in the evenings, watching the blaze, despising the world the
contempt that his father had for his fellow beings. Had
a man ever been so alone? Olvah himself had drunk
of that same contempt and welcomed his solitude at Harrow.
The world had been with him a place of war,
of hostility until he had struck that blow in sanet Wood.
(04:24):
He remembered the eagerness with which, at the end of
term he had hastened to pack to his father, after
the noise and clatter of school life. How wonderful to
go back to the still sound of dripping water, to
the crackle of dry leaves underfoot, to the heavy, solemn
tread of cattle, to those evenings when at his father's
(04:44):
side he heard the coals click in the fire and
the old clock on the stairs wheeze out the passing minutes.
That relationship with his father had been, until this term,
the only emotion in his life. And now and now
it was incredible, this change that had come to him.
(05:06):
First there was Margaret, and then after her Missus Craven Rupert,
Lawrence Cardiac Bunning. All these persons, in varying degree, had
become of concern to him. The world that had always
been a place of smoke, of wind, of sky, was
now of a sudden crowded with figures. He had been
(05:27):
swept from the hilltop down into the market place. He
had been given perhaps one keen glance of a moving
world before he was drawn from it altogether. Now, just
as he had tasted human companionship and loved it, must
he die. He knew too that his recent popularity in
the college had pleased him. He wanted them to like him.
(05:50):
He was proud to feel that because he was he. Therefore,
Cardiac resigned willingly his place to him. But if Cardiac
knew him for a Felon, knew that he might be
hanged in the dark and flung into a nameless grave.
What then, if Cardiac knew what Rupert Graven almost knew,
would not his horror be the same the world did
(06:13):
it only know? Tomorrow was the day of the Dublin match.
Ova and Cardiac were both playing, and at the end
of the game choice might be made between them. Did
Ova care? He did not know. But Margaret was coming,
and in the back of his mind he wanted to
show her what he could do. And yet, whilst that
(06:34):
shadow hovered in the outer court. How little a thing,
this stir and movement was, no tumult that the material
world could ever make, could sound like that whisper that
was with him now again in the room, with him
at his very heart, all things betray thee. The respite
(06:55):
was over, Bunning came in. Change had seized Bunning. Here
now was the result of his having pulled himself together.
Ova could see that the men had made up his
mind to something, and that further he was resolved to
keep his purpose secret. It was probably the first occasion
in Bunning's life of such resolution. There was a faint
(07:18):
color in the fat cheeks, the eyes had a little light,
and the man scarcely spoke at all lest this purpose
should trickle from his careless lips. Also, as he looked
at Ova, his customary devotion was heightened by an air
of frightened pride. Ova watching him, was apprehensive. The devotion
(07:39):
of a fool is the most dangerous thing in creation.
Well have you seen Craven again? Yeah, so we had
a talk. What did he say? Oh? Nothing, rot He
didn't stop and talk to you about the weather. Come on, Bunning,
what have you been up to? I haven't been up
to anything the man. His lips were closed for another
(08:02):
half an hour. Bunning sat at a chair before the fire, silent.
Every now and again he flung a glance at Ova.
Sometimes he jerked his head towards the windows, though here
to step. He had the look of a Christian going
into the amphitheater to face the beasts. Two about eleven
o'clock of the next morning, Ova went to see Margaret.
(08:24):
He had written to her the night before and asked
her not to tell Rupert the news of their engagement immediately.
But when the morning came he could not rest with that.
He must know more. It was a damp, misty morning,
the fine frost had gone. He was going to Margaret
to try and recover some reality out of the state
that he was in the recent incident Graven's Suspicions the
(08:47):
fifth of November evening, Bunning's alarm the scene with Margaret
had dragged him for a time from that conviction that
he was living in an unreal world. That day, when
he had run in the snowstorm from sanat Wood had
seemed to him during these last weeks absurd and an
effect obviously of excited nerves. Now, on this morning of
(09:11):
the dublin match. He awoke again to that unreal condition.
The bed maker, the men passing through the court beneath
his windows, the porter at the gate. These people were unreal,
and above him, around him, the mist seemed ever about
to break into new terrible presences. This thing is wearing
(09:32):
me down. I shall go off my head if something
definite doesn't happen. And then, there in his room, with
the stupid breakfast things still on the table, the consciousness
of the presence of God seized him, so that he
felt as though the pursuit were suddenly at an end,
and there was nothing left now but complete submission. In
(09:54):
this world of wraiths, God was the most certain presence.
There remained only Margaret. Perhaps she could recover reality for him.
He went to her. He found her waiting for him
in the little drawing room, and he could not see her.
He knew then that the pursuing shadow had taken a
new step. It was literally physically true. The room was there,
(10:17):
the shining things, the knick knacks, the mirror, the scent
of oranges. He could see her body, her black dress,
her eyes, her white neck, the movement towards him that
she made when she saw him coming, but there was
nothing there. It was as though he had been asked
to love a picture. He could not think of her
at all as Margaret Craven, or of himself as ol
(10:40):
of a doom. Only in the glass's reflection he saw
the white road stretching to the wood. I really am
going off my head. She'll see that something's up. And
then from the bottom of his heart, far away, as
though it had been the cry of another person, Oh,
how I want her, How I want her? He took
(11:00):
her in his arms and kissed her, and felt as
though he were dead and she were dead, and that
they were both being so young and eager for life,
struggling to get back existence again. Her voice came to
him from a long distance, Ova, how ill you look?
What is it? Why don't you tell me? There's something
(11:21):
the matter with you all? And you all keep me
in the dark. He said nothing, and she went on
very gently. It would be so much better, dear, if
you were to tell me. After all, I'm part of
you now, aren't I. Perhaps I can help you. His
own voice, from a long distance said, I don't think
that you can help me, Margaret. She put her hand
(11:42):
on his arm, and looked up into his face. I
am trying to help you all, but it is so difficult.
If you will tell me nothing, and oph, dear, if
it is something that you have done, something that you
are afraid to tell me, believe me, Dear, that there's nothing,
nothing in the world that you could have done that
would matter to me. Now I love you. Nothing can
(12:05):
alter that. He tried to feel that the hand on
his arm was real. With a great effort. He spoke,
have you told Rupert? Mother told him last night. What
did he say? I don't know, but they had a
terrible scene. Rupert, her lip quivered, went away without a
(12:25):
word last night only he told mother that if I
would not give you up, he would never come into
the house again. But he loves me more than any
one in the world, and he can't do without me.
I know that he can't, and I know that he
will come back. Mother wants to see you. Perhaps she
will go up to her. She had moved back from
(12:47):
him and was looking at him with sad perplexity. He
knew that he must seem strange and cold, standing there
in the middle of the room without making any movement
towards her. But he could not help himself. He seemed
to have no power over his own actions. Coming up
to him as she flung her arms around his neck,
(13:07):
Olva Ulva, tell me, I can't endure it. But slowly
he detached himself from her and left her. As he
went through the dark close passage, he wondered how God
could be so cruel. When he came into missus Craven's room,
he knew that her presence comforted him. The dark figure
on the faded sofa by the fire seemed to him
(13:28):
now more real than anything else in the world. Although
missus Craven made no movement yet, he felt that she
encouraged him to come to her, that she wanted him.
The room was very dark and bare, and although a
large fire blazed in the hearth, it was cold. Beyond
the window, a misty world, dank with dripping trees stretched
(13:50):
to a dim horizon. Missus Craven did not turn her
eyes from the fire when she heard him enter. He
felt as though she were watching him, and knew that
he had drawn a chair beside the sofa. Suddenly, she
moved her hand towards him, and he took it and
held it for a moment. She turned and he saw
that she had been crying. I had a talk with
(14:12):
my son last night, she said at last, and her
voice seemed to him the saddest thing that he had
ever heard. We had always loved one another until lately.
Last night he spoke to me as he has never
spoken before. He was very angry, and I know that
he did not mean all that he said to me,
but it hurt me. I'm afraid, Missus Craven, that it
(14:34):
was because of me. Rupert is very angry with me,
and he refuses to consent to Margaret's marriage with me.
Is not that so, yes, But it is not only that.
For many weeks now he has not been himself with me.
I am not a happy woman. I have had much
to make me unhappy. My children are a very great
(14:56):
deal to me. I think that this has broken my heart,
Missus Craven. If there's anything that I can do that
will put things right, if I can say anything to Rupert,
if I can tell him anything, explain anything, I will.
I think I can tell you, Missus Craven, why it
is that Rupert does not wish me to marry Margaret.
(15:17):
I have something to confess to you. Then he was defeated.
At last, he had surrendered. In another moment, the words
I killed Carfax, and Rupert knows that I killed him
would have left his lips. But missus Craven had not
heard his words. Her face was turned away from him again,
(15:39):
and she spoke in a strange, monotonous voice, as one
speaks in a dream. The words seem to be created
out of the faded sofa, the misty window, the dim,
shadowy bed. She was crying, Her hands were pressed to
her face. The words came between her sobs. It is
too much for me, all the I have kept silence.
(16:02):
Now I can bear it no longer. If Rupert leaves me,
it will kill me. But unless I speak to some one,
I shall die of all this silence. I cannot bear
any longer to be alone with God? Was it his
own voice? Were these his own words? Had things gone
so far with him that he did not know? I
(16:23):
cannot bear any longer to be alone with God? Was
that not his own perpetual cry, mister, doone, I killed
my husband. In the silence that followed, the only sound
was her stifled crying and the crackling fire. You knew
from the beginning, no I did not know, but you
(16:45):
were different from all the others. I felt it at
once when I saw you. You knew, you understood, you
were sorry for me. I am sorry. I understand, but
I did not know. Let me tell you. She turned
her face towards him and began to speak eagerly. He
(17:06):
took her hands between his Oh, the relief, now at once,
after all these years of silence, fifteen years. It happened
when Rupert was a tiny boy. You see, he was
a bad man. I found it out almost at once,
after a month or two. But I loved him madly, utterly.
(17:29):
I did not care about his being bad. That does
not matter to a woman. But he set about breaking
my heart. It amused him. Margaret was born, he used
to terrify me with the things that he would teach her.
He said that he would make her as big a
devil as he was himself. I prayed God that I
(17:49):
might never have another child, and then Rupert was born.
From that moment, my one prayer was that my husband
might die. At last, my upper tunity came. He fell ill,
dreadful attacks of heart, and one night he had a
terrible attack, and I held back the medicine that would
have saved him. I saw his eyes watching me, pleading
(18:13):
for it. I stood and waited. He died. She sobbed
for a moment. Then her words came more slowly. It
was a very little thing. It was not a very
bad thing. He was a wicked man. But God has
punished me, and he will punish me until I die.
All these years he has pursued me, urging me to confess.
(18:37):
I have fought and struggled against it. But at last
he has beaten me. He has driven me. Oh, the relief,
the relief. She looked at him curiously. If you did
not know, why did I feel that you understood and sympathized.
Have you no horror of me? Now for answer, He
(18:58):
bent and kissed her cheek. I am very lonely, I
too know what God can do. Then she clung to
him as though she would never let him leave her.
End of chapter thirteen.
Chapter thirteen of the Prelude to Adventure by Hugh Walpole.
This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter thirteen
Missus craven one. Afterwards, lying in his easy chair before
his fire, he was allowed a brief and beautiful respite.
It was almost as though he were already dead, as
(00:21):
though consciously he might lie there apart from the world,
freed from the eternal pursuit, at last, unharassed, and hold
with both hands that glorious certainty Margaret. He had a
picture of her. Now he was lying where he had tumbled,
there on the floor, with the silver trays and boxes,
(00:43):
the odd tables, the gim cracked chairs all about him.
Slowly he had opened his eyes and had gazed instantly,
as though the gates of heaven had rolled back for him,
into her face. She was kneeling on the floor. One
hand was behind his head, the other bathed his forehead.
He could see her breasts, so little, so gentle, rise
(01:06):
and fall beneath her thin dress, and her great dark
eyes caught his soul and held it. In that one
great moment, God withdrew for the first time in his
knowledge of her. They were alone, and in the kiss
that he gave to her. When he drew her down
to him, they met for the first time death and
(01:27):
the anger of God might come to him. That great
moment could never be taken from him. It was his.
He had seen that she was gravely distressed with his fainting,
and he had been able to give her no reason
beyond the heat of the room. He could see that
she was puzzled, and felt that there was some mystery
there that she was not to know. But she too
(01:50):
had found in that last kiss a glorious certainty that
no other hazard could possibly destroy. He loved her, She
loved him. Let the gods thunder, But he knew nevertheless,
as he lay back there in the chair, that he
had received a sign that primrose path with Margaret was
(02:11):
not to be allowed him. And so sure was he
that now he could lie back and look at it
all as though he were a spectator, and wonder in
what way God intended to work it out. The other
side of him, the fighting, battling creature was for the
moment dormant. Soon Bunning would come in and then the
(02:31):
fight would begin again. But for the instant there was peace.
The first piece that he had known since that far
away evening in Saint Martin's Chapel, as with a drowning man,
it is said so now with Ova, his past life
stretched in panorama before him. He saw the high, rocky
gray building, with its rough shape and shaggy lichen, its
(02:55):
neglected courtyard, its iron barred windows, the gaunt tree like
witches that hemmed it, the white ribbon of road far
far below it, the shining gleam of the river hidden
by purple hills. He saw his father, huge, flowing gray beard,
eyes stuck like leeches on to his weather beaten face,
(03:17):
his gnarled and knotted hands. He saw himself, a tiny
boy with thin black hair and grave eyes, watching his
father as he bathed in the mill pool below the house.
His father rising naked from the stream, hung with the
mists of early morning, naked with enormous chest, huge flanks,
(03:39):
his beard black, thin and sweeping across his chest, his
great thigh shining with the dripping water, primitive primeval in
the heart of the early morning silence. Many many other
pictures of those first days, but always Ova and his
father moving together, speaking, but seldom sitting before the fire
(04:00):
in the evenings, watching the blaze, despising the world the
contempt that his father had for his fellow beings. Had
a man ever been so alone? Olvah himself had drunk
of that same contempt and welcomed his solitude at Harrow.
The world had been with him a place of war,
of hostility until he had struck that blow in sanet Wood.
(04:24):
He remembered the eagerness with which, at the end of
term he had hastened to pack to his father, after
the noise and clatter of school life. How wonderful to
go back to the still sound of dripping water, to
the crackle of dry leaves underfoot, to the heavy, solemn
tread of cattle, to those evenings when at his father's
(04:44):
side he heard the coals click in the fire and
the old clock on the stairs wheeze out the passing minutes.
That relationship with his father had been, until this term,
the only emotion in his life. And now and now
it was incredible, this change that had come to him.
(05:06):
First there was Margaret, and then after her Missus Craven Rupert,
Lawrence Cardiac Bunning. All these persons, in varying degree, had
become of concern to him. The world that had always
been a place of smoke, of wind, of sky, was
now of a sudden crowded with figures. He had been
(05:27):
swept from the hilltop down into the market place. He
had been given perhaps one keen glance of a moving
world before he was drawn from it altogether. Now, just
as he had tasted human companionship and loved it, must
he die. He knew too that his recent popularity in
the college had pleased him. He wanted them to like him.
(05:50):
He was proud to feel that because he was he. Therefore,
Cardiac resigned willingly his place to him. But if Cardiac
knew him for a Felon, knew that he might be
hanged in the dark and flung into a nameless grave.
What then, if Cardiac knew what Rupert Graven almost knew,
would not his horror be the same the world did
(06:13):
it only know? Tomorrow was the day of the Dublin match.
Ova and Cardiac were both playing, and at the end
of the game choice might be made between them. Did
Ova care? He did not know. But Margaret was coming,
and in the back of his mind he wanted to
show her what he could do. And yet, whilst that
(06:34):
shadow hovered in the outer court. How little a thing,
this stir and movement was, no tumult that the material
world could ever make, could sound like that whisper that
was with him now again in the room, with him
at his very heart, all things betray thee. The respite
(06:55):
was over, Bunning came in. Change had seized Bunning. Here
now was the result of his having pulled himself together.
Ova could see that the men had made up his
mind to something, and that further he was resolved to
keep his purpose secret. It was probably the first occasion
in Bunning's life of such resolution. There was a faint
(07:18):
color in the fat cheeks, the eyes had a little light,
and the man scarcely spoke at all lest this purpose
should trickle from his careless lips. Also, as he looked
at Ova, his customary devotion was heightened by an air
of frightened pride. Ova watching him, was apprehensive. The devotion
(07:39):
of a fool is the most dangerous thing in creation.
Well have you seen Craven again? Yeah, so we had
a talk. What did he say? Oh? Nothing, rot He
didn't stop and talk to you about the weather. Come on, Bunning,
what have you been up to? I haven't been up
to anything the man. His lips were closed for another
(08:02):
half an hour. Bunning sat at a chair before the fire, silent.
Every now and again he flung a glance at Ova.
Sometimes he jerked his head towards the windows, though here
to step. He had the look of a Christian going
into the amphitheater to face the beasts. Two about eleven
o'clock of the next morning, Ova went to see Margaret.
(08:24):
He had written to her the night before and asked
her not to tell Rupert the news of their engagement immediately.
But when the morning came he could not rest with that.
He must know more. It was a damp, misty morning,
the fine frost had gone. He was going to Margaret
to try and recover some reality out of the state
that he was in the recent incident Graven's Suspicions the
(08:47):
fifth of November evening, Bunning's alarm the scene with Margaret
had dragged him for a time from that conviction that
he was living in an unreal world. That day, when
he had run in the snowstorm from sanat Wood had
seemed to him during these last weeks absurd and an
effect obviously of excited nerves. Now, on this morning of
(09:11):
the dublin match. He awoke again to that unreal condition.
The bed maker, the men passing through the court beneath
his windows, the porter at the gate. These people were unreal,
and above him, around him, the mist seemed ever about
to break into new terrible presences. This thing is wearing
(09:32):
me down. I shall go off my head if something
definite doesn't happen. And then, there in his room, with
the stupid breakfast things still on the table, the consciousness
of the presence of God seized him, so that he
felt as though the pursuit were suddenly at an end,
and there was nothing left now but complete submission. In
(09:54):
this world of wraiths, God was the most certain presence.
There remained only Margaret. Perhaps she could recover reality for him.
He went to her. He found her waiting for him
in the little drawing room, and he could not see her.
He knew then that the pursuing shadow had taken a
new step. It was literally physically true. The room was there,
(10:17):
the shining things, the knick knacks, the mirror, the scent
of oranges. He could see her body, her black dress,
her eyes, her white neck, the movement towards him that
she made when she saw him coming, but there was
nothing there. It was as though he had been asked
to love a picture. He could not think of her
at all as Margaret Craven, or of himself as ol
(10:40):
of a doom. Only in the glass's reflection he saw
the white road stretching to the wood. I really am
going off my head. She'll see that something's up. And
then from the bottom of his heart, far away, as
though it had been the cry of another person, Oh,
how I want her, How I want her? He took
(11:00):
her in his arms and kissed her, and felt as
though he were dead and she were dead, and that
they were both being so young and eager for life,
struggling to get back existence again. Her voice came to
him from a long distance, Ova, how ill you look?
What is it? Why don't you tell me? There's something
(11:21):
the matter with you all? And you all keep me
in the dark. He said nothing, and she went on
very gently. It would be so much better, dear, if
you were to tell me. After all, I'm part of
you now, aren't I. Perhaps I can help you. His
own voice, from a long distance said, I don't think
that you can help me, Margaret. She put her hand
(11:42):
on his arm, and looked up into his face. I
am trying to help you all, but it is so difficult.
If you will tell me nothing, and oph, dear, if
it is something that you have done, something that you
are afraid to tell me, believe me, Dear, that there's nothing,
nothing in the world that you could have done that
would matter to me. Now I love you. Nothing can
(12:05):
alter that. He tried to feel that the hand on
his arm was real. With a great effort. He spoke,
have you told Rupert? Mother told him last night. What
did he say? I don't know, but they had a
terrible scene. Rupert, her lip quivered, went away without a
(12:25):
word last night only he told mother that if I
would not give you up, he would never come into
the house again. But he loves me more than any
one in the world, and he can't do without me.
I know that he can't, and I know that he
will come back. Mother wants to see you. Perhaps she
will go up to her. She had moved back from
(12:47):
him and was looking at him with sad perplexity. He
knew that he must seem strange and cold, standing there
in the middle of the room without making any movement
towards her. But he could not help himself. He seemed
to have no power over his own actions. Coming up
to him as she flung her arms around his neck,
(13:07):
Olva Ulva, tell me, I can't endure it. But slowly
he detached himself from her and left her. As he
went through the dark close passage, he wondered how God
could be so cruel. When he came into missus Craven's room,
he knew that her presence comforted him. The dark figure
on the faded sofa by the fire seemed to him
(13:28):
now more real than anything else in the world. Although
missus Craven made no movement yet, he felt that she
encouraged him to come to her, that she wanted him.
The room was very dark and bare, and although a
large fire blazed in the hearth, it was cold. Beyond
the window, a misty world, dank with dripping trees stretched
(13:50):
to a dim horizon. Missus Craven did not turn her
eyes from the fire when she heard him enter. He
felt as though she were watching him, and knew that
he had drawn a chair beside the sofa. Suddenly, she
moved her hand towards him, and he took it and
held it for a moment. She turned and he saw
that she had been crying. I had a talk with
(14:12):
my son last night, she said at last, and her
voice seemed to him the saddest thing that he had
ever heard. We had always loved one another until lately.
Last night he spoke to me as he has never
spoken before. He was very angry, and I know that
he did not mean all that he said to me,
but it hurt me. I'm afraid, Missus Craven, that it
(14:34):
was because of me. Rupert is very angry with me,
and he refuses to consent to Margaret's marriage with me.
Is not that so, yes, But it is not only that.
For many weeks now he has not been himself with me.
I am not a happy woman. I have had much
to make me unhappy. My children are a very great
(14:56):
deal to me. I think that this has broken my heart,
Missus Craven. If there's anything that I can do that
will put things right, if I can say anything to Rupert,
if I can tell him anything, explain anything, I will.
I think I can tell you, Missus Craven, why it
is that Rupert does not wish me to marry Margaret.
(15:17):
I have something to confess to you. Then he was defeated.
At last, he had surrendered. In another moment, the words
I killed Carfax, and Rupert knows that I killed him
would have left his lips. But missus Craven had not
heard his words. Her face was turned away from him again,
(15:39):
and she spoke in a strange, monotonous voice, as one
speaks in a dream. The words seem to be created
out of the faded sofa, the misty window, the dim,
shadowy bed. She was crying, Her hands were pressed to
her face. The words came between her sobs. It is
too much for me, all the I have kept silence.
(16:02):
Now I can bear it no longer. If Rupert leaves me,
it will kill me. But unless I speak to some one,
I shall die of all this silence. I cannot bear
any longer to be alone with God? Was it his
own voice? Were these his own words? Had things gone
so far with him that he did not know? I
(16:23):
cannot bear any longer to be alone with God? Was
that not his own perpetual cry, mister, doone, I killed
my husband. In the silence that followed, the only sound
was her stifled crying and the crackling fire. You knew
from the beginning, no I did not know, but you
(16:45):
were different from all the others. I felt it at
once when I saw you. You knew, you understood, you
were sorry for me. I am sorry. I understand, but
I did not know. Let me tell you. She turned
her face towards him and began to speak eagerly. He
(17:06):
took her hands between his Oh, the relief, now at once,
after all these years of silence, fifteen years. It happened
when Rupert was a tiny boy. You see, he was
a bad man. I found it out almost at once,
after a month or two. But I loved him madly, utterly.
(17:29):
I did not care about his being bad. That does
not matter to a woman. But he set about breaking
my heart. It amused him. Margaret was born, he used
to terrify me with the things that he would teach her.
He said that he would make her as big a
devil as he was himself. I prayed God that I
(17:49):
might never have another child, and then Rupert was born.
From that moment, my one prayer was that my husband
might die. At last, my upper tunity came. He fell ill,
dreadful attacks of heart, and one night he had a
terrible attack, and I held back the medicine that would
have saved him. I saw his eyes watching me, pleading
(18:13):
for it. I stood and waited. He died. She sobbed
for a moment. Then her words came more slowly. It
was a very little thing. It was not a very
bad thing. He was a wicked man. But God has
punished me, and he will punish me until I die.
All these years he has pursued me, urging me to confess.
(18:37):
I have fought and struggled against it. But at last
he has beaten me. He has driven me. Oh, the relief,
the relief. She looked at him curiously. If you did
not know, why did I feel that you understood and sympathized.
Have you no horror of me? Now for answer, He
(18:58):
bent and kissed her cheek. I am very lonely, I
too know what God can do. Then she clung to
him as though she would never let him leave her.
End of chapter thirteen.
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