Chapter IV

Www.Pinwenba.Com 吧Chapter IV

At six o’clock came the inquiry of the soldiers: Had anything been seen of Bachmann?Fr ulein Hesse answered, pleased to be playing a r le:“No, I’ve not seen him since Sunday have you, Emilie?”“No, I haven’t seen him,” said Emilie, and her awkwardness was construed as bashfulness.Ida Hesse, stimulated, asked questions, and played her part.“But it hasn’t killed Sergeant Huber?” she cried in consternation.

“No. He fell into the water.But it gave him a bad shock, and smashed his foot on the side of the moat.He’s in hospital.It’s a bad look-out for Bachmann.”

Emilie, implicated and captive, stood looking on.She was no longer free, working with all this regulated system which she could not understand and which was almost god like to her.She was put out of her place.Bachmann was in her room, she was no longer the faithful in service serving with religious surety.

Her situation was intolerable to her.All evening long the burden was upon her, she could not live.The children must be fed and put to sleep.The Baron and Baroness were going out, she must give them light refreshment.The man servant was coming in to supper after returning with the carriage.And all the while she had the insupportable feeling of being out of the order, self-responsible, bewildered.The control of her life should come from those above her, and she should move within that control.

But now she was out of it, uncontrolled and troubled.More than that, the man, the lover, Bachmann, who was he, what was he?He alone of all men contained for her the unknown quantity which terrified her beyond her service.Oh, she had wanted him as a distant sweetheart, not close, like this, casting her out of her world.

When the Baron and Baroness had departed, and the young manservant had gone out to enjoy himself, she went upstairs to Bachmann.He had wakened up, and sat dimly in the room.Out in the open he heard the soldiers, his comrades, singing the sentimental songs of the nightfall, the drone of the concertina rising in accompaniment.

“Wenn ich zu mei... nem Kinde geh’…In seinem Au... g die Mutter seh’....”But he himself was removed from it now.Only the sentimental cry of young, unsatisfied desire in the soldiers’ singing penetrated his blood and stirred him subtly.He let his head hang; he had become gradually roused:and he waited in concentration, in another world.

The moment she entered the room where the man sat alone, waiting intensely, the thrill passed through her, she died in terror, and after the death, a great flame gushed up, obliterating her.He sat in trousers and shirt on the side of the bed.He looked up as she came in, and she shrank from his face.She could not bear it.Yet she entered near to him.

“Do you want anything to eat?” she said.“Yes,” he answered, and as she stood in the twilight of the room with him, he could only hear his heart beat heavily.He saw her apron just level with his face.She stood silent, a little distance off, as if she would be there for ever.He suffered.

As if in a spell she waited, standing motionless and looming there, he sat rather crouching on the side of the bed.A second will in him was powerful and dominating.She drew gradually nearer to him, coming up slowly, as if unconscious.His heart beat up swiftly.He was going to move.

Asshe came quite close, almost invisibly he lifted his arms and put them round her waist, drawing her with his will and desire.He buried his face into her apron, into the terrible softness of her belly.And he was a flame of passion intense about her.He had forgotten.Shame and memory were gone in a whole, furious flame of passion.

Shewas quite helpless.Her hands leapt, fluttered, and closed over his head, pressing it deeper into her belly, vibrating as she did so.And his arms tightened on her, his hands spread over her loins, warm as flame on her loveliness.It was intense anguish of bliss for her, and she lost consciousness.

When she recovered, she lay translated in the peace of satisfaction.It was what she had had no inkling of, never known could be.She was strong with eternal gratitude.And he was there with her.Instinctively with an instinct of reverence and gratitude, her arms tightened in a little embrace upon him who held her thoroughly embraced.

And he was restored and completed, close to her.That little, twitching, momentary clasp of acknowledgment that she gave him in her satisfaction, roused his pride unconquerable.They loved each other, and all was whole.She loved him, he had taken her, she was given to him.It was right.He was given to her, and they were one, complete.

Warm, with a glow in their hearts and faces, they rose again, modest, but transfigured with happiness.“I will get you something to eat,” she said, and in joy and security of service again, she left him, making a curious little homage of departure.He sat on the side of the bed, escaped, liberated, wondering, and happy.