The way of the spirit

by H. Rider Haggard

As a matter of fact, this revelation and others had an opposite effect to that which was intended. They caused Rupert to make allowances for Edith, and to understand that what he had set down to mere cruelty and self-seeking, was perhaps attributable to some passion which possessed her for this despicable man. He knew enough of the world to be aware of the positive loathing with which a woman who is thus afflicted will generally look upon any other man, even one whom she has previously loved.

Now, pondered the gentle and compassionate Rupert, supposing that he being apparently dead, his wife in name had given way to this impulse and engaged herself to Dick with the usual affectionate ceremonies (and he gathered that something of the sort had happened), and that then there appeared that dead man as he was at the time. Well, should not allowances be made for her, after all, she who, he was sure, had already repented in sackcloth and ashes, and to whom this Dick was, to put it mildly, no longer agreeable?

Meanwhile, hard as he might strive to conquer it—for was not this an excellent opportunity to exercise his own doctrines of renunciation and forgiveness?—he was possessed by a longing which at times became almost uncontrollable, if not to twist Learmer’s neck, at least to kick him with contumely out of Tama, where, it may be added, he was already making himself a nuisance in various ways.

Such was the case against himself. But on the other hand, he must face the terrible fact that those words which he had spoken in the London drawing-room were, so far as he was concerned, utterly irrevocable. The sudden detestation, the shrinking of body and of soul that he had then conceived for his wife, remained quite unaltered. To talk with her was well enough, but the thought of returning to her made him absolutely shudder.

Yet the fact that to enter on to married life with Edith would be to him the greatest purgatory; would mean also abandoning all his hopes and interests in order to seek others which he did not desire, could not, his conscience told him, affect the rights of the matter. If it was his duty to go, these things should not be considered. But there was Mea, who had to be considered. After all that had come and gone between them, was it his duty to abandon her also? even though the pure devotion and deep respect which he bore to her might perhaps be the real cause of much of the active repulsion his wife inspired in him—the converse, in short, of her case with Dick.

Mea, he knew, was wrapt up in him; for his sake she had put away marriage and entered on the curious mode of life that had proved so unexpectedly happy and successful. If he left her, he believed that she would probably die, or would at least be miserable for the rest of her days. Could it be expected of him that because of an empty ceremony, whereof the other contracting party had at once violated the spirit, he must do this great wrong to a beloved woman, who had violated nothing except her own human impulses, which she, an Eastern, trod down in order that he might be able to keep to the very letter of his strict Western law?

The worst of it was that through all this terrible struggle, while his soul drifted upon a sea of doubt, from Mea herself Rupert received not the slightest help. Whether it were through pride, or a stern determination to let things take their appointed course uninfluenced by her, she spoke no pleading word, she made no prayer to his pity or his love. Their life went on as it had gone for over seven years. They met, they talked, they ministered to the sick, they dispensed justice, they balanced their accounts, just as though there were no Dick and no Edith upon the earth. Only from time to time he caught her watching him with those great, faithful eyes, that were filled with wonder and an agony of fear. It was on his head, and his alone, and sometimes he felt as though his brain must give beneath the pressure of this ordeal. He fell back upon the principles of his religion; he sought light in prayer and wrestlings; but no light came. He was forsaken; unhelped he wandered towards that fatal day, the day of decision.

Richard Learmer also had been observing events, and as a result, found himself in sore trouble. He perceived that Edith was drawing nearer to Rupert. At first he had thought that she was actuated by self-interest only, but during the last few days, many signs and tokens had convinced him that something deeper drove her on, that now the man attracted her, that she wished to win his love. Further, Tabitha had told him so outright, suggesting that the best thing he could do was to make himself scarce, as he was wanted by nobody. He had refused with a smothered oath, and gone away to chew the cud of his rage and jealousy.

It was a very bitter cud. His great fortunes had passed from him; they were the property of Rupert. The only creature that he had cared for was passing from him also; she and her money were going to be the property of Rupert, in fact as well as in name. Of course there remained the possibility that he would reject her, but in this Dick did not for one moment believe. There was too much at stake. It was inconceivable that a man would throw up everything in order to remain the sheik of an Arab tribe, a position from which he might be deposed by any conspiracy or accident. Doubtless he was temporising merely to save his face with the other woman, and to make himself appear of more value in the eyes of Edith.

So Rupert was going to take everything and leave him absolutely nothing. What a difference the existence of this man made to him! If he had died! If he should chance to die! Then how changed would be his own future. Edith would soon drift back to him, after her fashion when Rupert was out of the way, and he, Dick, would be the master of her and of more wealth than even he could spend, the honoured lord of many legions, instead of a shady and discredited person with not a prospect on the earth, except that of the infirmary or the workhouse. If only a merciful Providence should be pleased to remove this stumbling-block!