Book VI

THE PURSUIT IN THE FOREST

RUPERT'S JOURNAL--Continued.
July 3, 1907.

There is no anodyne but work to pain of the heart; and my pain is all
of the heart. I sometimes feel that it is rather hard that with so
much to make me happy I cannot know happiness. How can I be happy
when my wife, whom I fondly love, and who I know loves me, is
suffering in horror and loneliness of a kind which is almost beyond
human belief? However, what is my loss is my country's gain, for the
Land of the Blue Mountains is my country now, despite the fact that I
am still a loyal subject of good King Edward. Uncle Roger took care
of that when he said I should have the consent of the Privy Council
before I might be naturalized anywhere else.

When I got home yesterday morning I naturally could not sleep. The
events of the night and the bitter disappointment that followed my
exciting joy made such a thing impossible. When I drew the curtain
over the window, the reflection of the sunrise was just beginning to
tinge the high-sailing clouds in front of me. I laid down and tried
to rest, but without avail. However, I schooled myself to lie still,
and at last, if I did not sleep, was at least quiescent.

Disturbed by a gentle tap at the door, I sprang up at once and threw
on a dressing gown. Outside, when I opened the door, was Aunt Janet.
She was holding a lighted candle in her hand, for though it was
getting light in the open, the passages were still dark. When she
saw me she seemed to breathe more freely, and asked if she might come
in.

Whilst she sat on the edge of my bed, in her old-time way, she said
in a hushed voice:

"Oh, laddie, laddie, I trust yer burden is no too heavy to bear."

"My burden! What on earth do you mean, Aunt Janet?" I said in reply.
I did not wish to commit myself by a definite answer, for it was
evident that she had been dreaming or Second Sighting again. She
replied with the grim seriousness usual to her when she touched on
occult matters:

"I saw your hairt bleeding, laddie. I kent it was yours, though how
I kent it I don't know. It lay on a stone floor in the dark, save
for a dim blue light such as corpse-lights are. On it was placed a
great book, and close around were scattered many strange things,
amongst them two crowns o' flowers--the one bound wi' silver, the
other wi' gold. There was also a golden cup, like a chalice,
o'erturned. The red wine trickled from it an' mingled wi' yer
hairt's bluid; for on the great book was some vast dim weight wrapped
up in black, and on it stepped in turn many men all swathed in black.
An' as the weight of each came on it the bluid gushed out afresh.
And oh, yer puir hairt, my laddie, was quick