William Le Queux

“ As I drove along that morning through Worthorpe and Colly Weston to Duddington, the quaint little old Northamptonshire village within a mile of which lies Tixover Hall, it was, though a trifle chilly after the Riviera, one of those bright days which make even the elderly feel young and sprightly again; days on which even the saddest among us are influenced by the infectious brightness of the atmosphere. At no other season of the year is there that delicious sensation of life, of resurrection in the very air, as the grey old earth awakens from her winter sleep and renews her youth again. ”

“ It was strange, I thought, how, evil though her heart, she had uttered those ominous warnings. True, I had loved her; I had adored her with all the strength of my being; but she in return had only urged me to love my Platonic little friend Muriel. She who held me powerless beneath her thrall had, with self-denial, released me in order that I might transfer my affections to the bright-eyed woman who was wearing out her heart at Madame Gabrielle’s; she had implored me to cast her aside, and thus escape the mysterious unknown fate which she predicted must inevitably fall upon me. ”

“ I tell you that you must not love me. Rather hate me—curse me for the evil I have already wrought—detest my name as that of one whose sin is unpardonable, whose contact is deadly, and at whose touch all that is good and honest and just withers and passes away. You do not know me, you cannot know me, or you would not kiss my hand,” she cried, with a strange glint in her eyes as she held forth her small, white palm. “You love me!” she added, panting, with a hoarse, harsh laugh. “Say rather that you hold me in eternal loathing.” ”

“ That I admired her was true; yet I was not her lover, and she had no right to object to any of my actions.
“I cannot see that I have been so near ruin as you would make out,” I exclaimed, philosophically. “An unrequited love is an incident in most men’s lives.”
“Ah! she spared you!” she cried. “If she had smitten you, you would have perished as swiftly as objects dissolve into ashes when she is present. At least she pitied you. And you were doubly fortunate.”
“Yes,” I said, reflecting upon her words, at the same time recollecting her mysterious connection with poor Roddy Morgan. ”

“ I demanded. “Why cannot you explain all, and end this mystery?”
“It is impossible.”
“Impossible!” I cried. “Nonsense! You seek to conceal your evil deeds beneath a cloak of improbabilities, and fancy I am sufficiently credulous to believe them!”
“Surely heated argument is useless,” she observed. “I love a man who is your friend, and you love a woman who is mine. Plainly speaking, our interests are identical, are they not? Your love is in hiding. She had a reason for fleeing from you, just as my lover’s religious views caused him to endeavour to escape me. ”

“ The man who had posed as Satan, director of the cult, had sprung down to earth in a moment, shouting to some hidden person to close all egress and bearing in his hand the gleaming dagger with which the worshippers had stabbed the sacred elements within the ciborium.
Aline, when she had recognised us, gave a shriek and stood glaring at her lover, pale as death. Jack, tall, and strong as a lion, stood in the garb of the Christian Church within that foul den of the Diabolists and with a loud voice called upon them to remain quiet and listen. ”

“ I believe, Aline, that within your human shape there dwells the Spirit of Evil, its hideousness hidden from the world beneath the beauty of your form and face.”
“Then if you thus believe in me,” she murmured, in a soft, crooning voice, as one speaking to a wayward child; “if you thus place your trust implicitly in me, I will give you further proof of my power, I will fulfil the compact made between us. Muriel shall love you?” ”

“ Her voice had lost its music, and her speech was of one in blank despair.
“If you are without regret, then what I have suggested is the more easy of accomplishment,” he said, in a low intense voice. “Remember that no power on earth can withstand your influence.”
“I will not!” she cried, starting up in fierce determination. “Through your evil counsel I have already wrought that which I shall ever regret,” she went on. “I have placed myself beneath the thraldom irrevocably, and have brought upon those who admired me a doom which has destroyed their happiness and wrecked their lives. ”

“ I cried.
“Certainly,” she responded. “There is no reason why her happiness should be again disturbed.”
In an instant a fierce vengeance swept through my brain. This woman was of the flesh, for she stood there before me, her beauty heightened by the flush that had risen to her cheeks, her pale lips quivering with an uncontrollable anxiety which had taken possession of her, yet she was more cruel, more relentless, more ingenious in the working of evil, more resistless and invincible in her diabolical power, than any other person on the earth. ”

“ Next instant I held my breath, and the perspiration broke forth upon my brow when I realised that my great love for Muriel had led me into an abyss of evil. Heedless of the dire consequences which must follow, I had flung myself into the toils of this mysterious woman whom I held in fear; a woman whose very touch was sacrilegious, and who was more fiendish than human in her delights and hates. ”

“ That you know quite well.”
“Then you have a lover, eh?” I exclaimed quickly, perhaps in a tone of ill-concealed regret.
“No,” she responded, in a low, firm voice, “I have no lover.” Then after a few moments’ pause she inquired, “Why do you ask me that?”
“Because, Muriel,” I said seriously, taking her hand, “because I desire to know the truth.”
“Why?” she asked, looking at me in mingled amazement and alarm. “We are friends, it is true; but your friendship gives you no right to endeavour to learn the secret of my heart,” and she gently withdrew her hand from my grasp. ”

“ To the world I am a pure, ingenuous girl; yet beneath this veil of virtue and purity I work these veritable miracles of evil, possessing a power which ofttimes appals me, an irresistible influence that nothing can withstand. I am unique in the world as possessing this superhuman faculty of being able to impart evil to those with whom I come into contact, be they pure as angels. ”

“ I cannot love you.”
“Cannot!” I echoed blankly, all my hopes in an instant crushed. Then, determinedly, I added: “No, you shall not thrust me aside in this manner. The man who declares his love for you shall not snatch you thus from me!”
“But cannot you see that it is because of our long friendship I am determined not to deceive you. You have asked me a question, and I have given you a plain, straightforward answer.”
“You are enamoured of this cunning, lank-haired individual around whom centres a mystery as great as that which envelops Aline Cloud,” I said. ”

“ I exclaimed.
“You have only to choose for yourself.”
“Your words are those of one who fears some terrible catastrophe,” I said. “I don’t really understand.”
“Ah! you cannot. It’s impossible!” she answered in a low, hollow voice, all life having left her face. She was sitting in the armchair, leaning forward slightly, with her face still beautiful, but white and haggard. “If I could explain, then you might find some means to escape, but I dare not tell you. Chance has thrown us together—an evil chance—and you admire me; you think perhaps that you could love me, you—”
“I do love you, Aline!” ”

“ But if you worked with me for a week your heart would bleed to see the appalling poverty and distress; how the poor strive and struggle to live; how their landlords, with hearts like stone, sell them up and drive them to the last extremity; how the keepers of the low-class public-houses sell them intoxicants which drive them mad, and how at last the police lay hands upon them as drunkards and thieves. You don’t know, my dear fellow—you can’t know—how lower London lives. ”