How cruel it all seemed! Could it be mere chance that so often made a sport, a mockery, of just the highest hopes and prospects—of the sunshine of the present—of the sweetest amidst past memories? Hot rebellion awoke within her heart, so surely did it seem that some subtle malignity, some deliberate spitefulness, had been at work shaping her life from the very day of her birth, when she lost her mother, guiding and controlling events until they culminated in this coil of torment. Or perchance it had all been preordained by some Supreme Being as a test, a needful trial. Yet again, may be, she, and Geoffrey too, were but working out their own salvation, fated to endure in order to expiate evil wrought in some forgotten existence; that she ought to be resigned, and, rebelling no longer, to submit patiently to sorrow both for herself and for him.
Ah, mystery of suffering! Can blind mortal eyes pierce the veil? Can a heart torn with ardent earthly love find comfort in the shadowy dreams of philosophers or mystics?
Evarne flung herself upon the couch, pressing her face despairingly into the cushions. And in the blackness arose, clear and distinct, a mental vision of that little Temple of Sekhet far away in the land of Egypt. How minutely could she recall the terrifying aspect of the goddess who held dominion over Love, over its joy and its cruelty. Almost with the vividness of reality could she see those ominous features—that flat head with its receding brow, beneath which no wise benevolence, no tender charity could ever find place. And in the mental picture, the narrow gleaming eyes seemed reading the agony of her spirit with malicious deliberation, the long lips were parted over sharp teeth with a devilish smile of amusement and gratification.
She started erect and gazed around the familiar room, seeking to clear her mind of such spectres. But the train of thought was not to be got rid of so easily.
Surely those long-dead priests of Egypt had been verily inspired when they represented this divinity under the guise of a cat-headed creature? Ah, "Crusher of Hearts" supreme, with your sheer delight in torturing all that falls helplessly within your power—with your eyes that have the gift of seeing clearly how and where to strike when the vision of all others is dulled! But they should have given you cat's paws, Sekhet—cruel, tearing talons concealed in sheaths softer than velvet!
There was surely the "Mark of the Beast" upon this fate that had befallen her. After so many years of dull monotony, to be allowed once again to behold prospects of the truest happiness—to enjoy so brief a spell of love and joy—just a taste of life's sweetest possibilities. Then this crushing blow, this darkening of the heavens, this blight upon the earth, this upheaval of the depths!
She moved restlessly around the room for a few minutes, then wandered upstairs again. She longed for the temporary forgetfulness of sleep, but how vain to seek it with a mind in so wild a turmoil. The very atmosphere seemed stifling. Half lifting aside the dressing-table that stood before the window, she flung wide the lower sash, and bringing a chair, rested her folded arms upon the sill and gazed into the night.
Out of doors all was quiet and peaceful indeed. The moon still rode high, flinging clear-cut fantastic shadows upon road and pavement. No sound was to be heard, no human being to be seen.
Yet the mere sight of the street brought a fresh pang to her already overburdened heart. While Philia was away posing at the Polytechnic Art class that evening there had come a knock at the door which Evarne had disregarded entirely. A second rap was treated with like contempt; the outside world with its demands was non-existent to her that night. But the current of her thoughts had been disturbed, and at the third attempt she became sufficiently interested in this perseverance to stand concealed by the window-curtains to watch who went away.
After a time a figure had appeared and walked slowly down the street. It was Geoff himself. He had driven home with her at five o'clock, and here, but a few hours later, was apparently already anxious for fresh news. To see the road, brought this little incident vividly to her memory. Was she to lose such care and devotion? And to think that Geoff—with all his kindness and unfailing tenderness towards the weakest living thing, his trust and his true love for herself—was to be nothing more than one of Sekhet's innumerable victims!