Disgraced, as though he had been engaged to a centaur, he felt that his soul through marriage with a retrogressive type, was standing before the beginning of a crime, which, completed, would falsify his lineage for all time to come, which should allure him to offer his only life for another's child, on which he should squander his best feelings and, after a time grown fast to it, drag his humiliation as a block about his feet unable to free himself. Jealousy "this dirty vice," what else is it than the healthy, strong fear of the tribal instinct lest it should be hindered in its praiseworthy egotism to perpetuate the best in the individual? And who lacks in this sound passion but the sterile family sustainer, the wife panderer, the weak fool, the cicisbeo, the gynecolater, who believes in platonic love?
He was jealous, but when the first anger over the affront had subsided, there awoke an unrestrained desire to possess this woman without wedlock. The gauntlet was thrown, the liberty in choice was proclaimed, and he felt a desire to take up the battle, break the band and appear as the lover in order that he with gained victory should be able to go calmly onwards, conscious that he was not the one who had been neglected by nature, who had been pushed aside in the battle of love. Here was no longer a question of honest contest with loyal means, it was an insidious battle between burglars. The challenger had selected the simple weapon, skeleton keys, and the combat was about stealing! With a woman as the prize all hesitation disappeared. The animal had awakened, and the wild instincts, which hid themselves under the great name of love, were as furious as the powers of nature let loose.
He arose from the rock unobserved and turned his steps homewards to arrange his fate, as he called it.
[CHAPTER TWELFTH]
There was a gloomy silence on the skerry about seven o'clock the next morning, for the fishing on the shoals had been a failure on account of the reasons stated by the commissioner. The fishermen were sitting dejectedly in their boats and straightening out their nets, and now and then picking out a solitary stromling, which was thrown on shore.
The traffic at the provision store had become less with the sinking credit, and the preacher had laid aside his blue apron and with book in hand had gathered a little group of despairing women around him in a cottage. With an incomprehensible, but not unusual, logic among his class he spoke of how Jesus fed five thousand men with five loaves and two fishes. There was an approximate à propos for so far as this case was concerned there were many mouths and few fishes, but how these few fishes could fill so many, that he could not indicate. Now that there was no help, he must try and explain, why the miracle could not be done again, and he found the reason in the prevailing unbelief. If they only had faith as a grain of mustard seed, the miracle would be repeated. And faith could only be gained by prayer.
Therefore he exhorted the community to pray.
Although none of those present believed in the miracle of the two fishes, while the most of them had never heard of it, because they had not read that story, they followed the example and repeated the Lord's Prayer, which they had learned passably for the first holy communion.
But when they were half through, they were suddenly disturbed by a noise from the harbor. Those who were sitting nearest the window now saw a fishing boat, which had just furled its mainsail, and come up to the pier. In the bow stood Miss Mary with fluttering hair beneath the blue Scotch cap, and at the tiller sat the assistant waving his hat as a sign of success. The boat was overloaded with nets, through the dark meshes of which glittered fish upon fish.