A ghostly rape ... she had a sudden vision of the nervous hands of the Almighty clutching tightly the yielding flesh of a thick, human body, as in a picture by the Flemish Rubens she had seen in the Luxembourg. Surely the body was that of the fat merchant with the wrinkled neck ... there ... sitting in front of her. Something is happening ... there are acolytes with lighted tapers ... a bell is ringing ... the central Mystery is being consummated. For one strange, poignant second Madeleine felt herself in a world of non-bulk and non-colour. She buried her face in her hands and, though her mind formed no articulate prayer, she worshipped the Unseen. Her mundane desires had, for the moment, dropped from her and their place was taken by her old ambition of one day being able to go up to the altar, strong in grace, a true penitent, to partake of the inestimable blessing of the Eucharist.
CHAPTER XIII
ROBERT PILOU’S SCREEN
When Mass was over, Madeleine walked home with her parents in absolute silence. She was terribly afraid of losing the flavour of her recent experience. She specially dreaded Jacques. He was such a scoffer; besides, at this moment, she felt a great distaste for the insincerity of her relationship with him. However, as it happened, he did not come in to dinner that day.
After dinner she went to her room and lay down on her bed, in the hopes of sleeping, and so guarding her religious emotion from the contamination of thoughts and desires—for, at the bottom of her heart, she knew quite well that her obsession was only dozing. Finally, she did fall asleep, and slept for some hours.
When she awoke, it was half-past four, and she realised with joy that she had nursed successfully the mystic atmosphere. She felt a need for space and fresh air, and hastily put on her pattens, mask, and cloak. As she came out of her room, her mother appeared from the parlour.
‘Madeleine—dear life—whither in the name of madness, are you bound? You cannot be contemplating walking alone? Why, ’twill soon be dusk! Jacques should shortly return, and he’ll accompany you!’
This was unbearable. In a perfect frenzy, lest the spell should be broken, Madeleine gathered up her petticoats and made a dash for the staircase.
‘Madeleine! Madeleine! Is the child demented? Come back! I command you!’
‘For God’s sake, let me be!’ screeched Madeleine furiously from half-way down the stairs. ‘Curse her! With her shrill importunity she has shattered the serenity of my humour!’ she muttered to herself, in the last stage of nervous irritation.