Part 50 (1/2)
”And now I am very happy; just as you will be very happy.”
”I am always happy since my lord took me for his small wife.” Dong-Yung matched her happiness with the happiness of the foreign-born woman, proudly, with a.s.surance. In her heart she knew no woman, born to eat bitterness, had ever been so happy as she in all the worlds beneath the heavens. She looked around her, beyond the failure of the foreign woman's garden, at the piled, peaked roofs of China looking over the wall. The fragrance of a blossoming plum-tree stole across from a Chinese courtyard, and a peach-branch waved pink in the air. A wonder of contentment filled Dong-Yung.
All the while Foh-Kyung was talking. Dong-Yung turned back from all the greenness around her to listen. He sat very still, with his hands hid in his sleeves. The wave-ridged hem of his robe--blue and green and purple and red and yellow--was spread out decorously above his feet. Dong-Yung looked and looked at him, so still and motionless and so gorgeously arrayed. She looked from his feet, long, slim, in black satin slippers, and close-fitting white muslin socks, to the feet of the foreign priest.
His feet were huge, ugly black things. From his feet Dong-Yung's eyes crept up to his face, over his priestly black clothes, rimmed with stiff white at wrist and throat. Yes, his face was even as the face of a priest, of one who serves between the G.o.ds and men, a face of seeing eyes and a rigid mouth. Dong-Yung shuddered.
”And so we have come, even as the foreign-born G.o.d tells us, a man and his wife, to believe the Jesus way.”
Foh-Kyung spoke in a low voice, but his face smiled. Dong-Yung smiled, too, at his open, triumphant declarations. She said over his words to herself, under her breath, so that she would remember them surely when she wanted to call them back to whisper to her heart in the dark of some night. ”We two, a man and his wife”--only dimly, with the heart of a little child, did Dong-Yung understand and follow Foh-Kyung; but the throb of her heart answered the hidden light in his eyes.
The foreign-born priest stood up. The same light shone in his eyes. It was a rapture, an exaltation. Suddenly an unheard-of thing happened. The outside kingdom woman put her arms around Dong-Yung! Dong-Yung was terrified. She was held tight against the other woman's shoulder. The foreign-born woman used a strange perfume. Dong-Yung only half heard her whispered words.
”We are like that, too. We could not be separated. Oh, you will be happy!”
Dong-Yung thought of the other woman. ”In her heart she is humble and seemly. It is only her speech and her ways that are unfitting.”
”We are going into the chapel a moment,” said the priest. ”Will you come, too?”
Dong-Yung looked at Foh-Kyung, a swift upward glance, like the sudden sweep of wings. She read his answer in his eyes. He wanted her to come.
Not even in the temple of the foreign-born G.o.d did he wish to be without her.
A coolie called the foreign-born woman away.
The priest, in his tight trousers, and jacket, black and covered with a mult.i.tude of round flat b.u.t.tons, stood up, and led the way into the house and down a long corridor to a closed door at the end. Dong-Yung hurried behind the two men. At the door the priest stood aside and held it open for her to pa.s.s in first. She hesitated. Foh-Kyung nodded.
”Do not think fearful things, little Princess,” he whispered. ”Enter, and be not afraid. There is no fear in the wors.h.i.+p of Jesus.”
So Dong-Yung crossed the threshold first. Something caught her breath away, just as the chanting of the dragon priests always did. She took a few steps forward and stood behind a low-backed bench. Before her, the light streamed into the little chapel through one luminous window of coloured gla.s.s above the altar. It lay all over the grey-tiled floor in roses and sunflowers of pink and G.o.d. A deep purple stripe fell across the head of the black-robed priest. Dong-Yung was glad of that. It made his robe less hideous, and she could not understand how one could serve a G.o.d unless in beautiful robes. On the altar beneath the window of coloured flowers were two tall silver candlesticks, with smooth white tapers. A wide-mouthed vase filled with Chinese lilies stood between them. The whole chapel was faintly fragrant with their incense. So even the foreign-born wors.h.i.+pers lit candles, and offered the scent of the lilies to their spirit G.o.d. Truly, all the G.o.ds of all the earth and in the sky are lovers of lit candles and flowers. Also, one prays to all G.o.ds.
The place was very quiet and peaceful, mottled with the gorgeous, flowerlike splashes of colour. The waiting candles, the echoes of many prayers, the blossom of wors.h.i.+p filled the tiny chapel. Dong-Yung liked it, despite herself, despite the strangeness of the imageless altar, despite the clothes of the priest. She stood quite still behind the bench flooded and filled with an all-pervading sense of happiness.
Foh-Kyung and the black-robed priest walked past her, down the little aisle, to a s.h.i.+ny bra.s.s railing that went like a fence round before the altar. The foreign-born priest laid one hand on the railing as if to kneel down, but Foh-Kyung turned and beckoned with his chin to Dong-Yung to come. She obeyed at once. She was surprisingly unafraid. Her feet walked through the patterns of colour, which slid over her head and hands, gold from the gold of a cross and purple from the robe of a king.
As if stepping through a rainbow, she came slowly down the aisle to the waiting men, and in her heart and in her eyes lay the light of all love and trust.
Foh-Kyung caught her hand.
”See, I take her hand,” he said to the priest, ”even as you would take the hand of your wife, proud and unashamed in the presence of your G.o.d.
Even as your love is, so shall ours be. Where the thoughts of my heart lead, the heart of my small wife follows. Give us your blessing.”
Foh-Kyung drew Dong-Yung to her knees beside him. His face was hidden, after the manner of the foreign wors.h.i.+pers; but hers was uplifted, her eyes gazing at the gla.s.s with the colours of many flowers and the shapes of men and angels. She was happier than she had ever been--happier even than when she had first wors.h.i.+ped the ancestral tablets with her lord and master, happier even than at the feast of the dead, when they laid their food offerings on the shaven grave-mounds. She felt closer to Foh-Kyung than in all her life before.
She waited. The silence grew and grew till in the heart of it something ominous took the place of its all-pervading peace. Foh-Kyung lifted his face from his hands and rose to his feet. Dong-Yung turned, still kneeling, to scan his eyes. The black-robed priest stood off and looked at them with horror. Surely it was horror! Never had Dong-Yung really liked him. Slowly she rose, and stood beside and a little behind Foh-Kyung. He had not blessed them. Faintly, from beyond the walls of the Christian chapel came the beating of drums. Devil-drums they were.
Dong-Yung half smiled at the long-known familiar sound.
”Your small wife?” said the priest. ”Have you another wife?”
”a.s.suredly,” Foh-Kyung answered. ”All men have a great wife first; but this, my small wife, is the wife of my heart. Together we have come to seek and find the Jesus way.”
The priest wiped his hand across his face. Dong-Yung saw that it was wet with tiny round b.a.l.l.s of sweat. His mouth had suddenly become one thin red line, but in his eyes lay pain.