Part 50 (1/2)
He spoke with all the bitterness and cruelty of which any one could be capable, and as I thought of what I had suffered, of the h.e.l.l in which I had lived through long months, I realised something of the old feeling which I had entertained for him on that awful night.
”And after all, I have served you out,” he went on. ”I have enjoyed Trewinion's wealth for eleven years, and I have made the most of it.
You may claim possession if you will; but precious little you will have. I have mortgaged it up to every farthing it is worth, and if you hadn't come soon you would have found another family here. Even now you will have a difficulty in keeping the house above your head,” and he laughed mockingly.
As he said this, it struck me that he was trying to make me angry, and as I saw the wickedness and meanness of his heart, I felt a great bitterness rising within me. Then I remembered what I felt at Smyrna--how I had prayed that G.o.d would help me to love, and in a second the bitterness was gone, and all harsh feelings were turned to pity. I saw the veil torn aside, and I knew that, much as I had suffered, he had suffered more; that deep as I had been in h.e.l.l, he had been in a h.e.l.l yet deeper. I did not remember the deceit, the fraud, the treachery he had practised towards me, I only thought of the possible Wilfred, the Wilfred as he might have been, and as G.o.d intended he should be.
”And what do you intend to do?” said my mother, for such I shall continue to call her.
”Do, mother,” I said. ”I shall do nothing.”
”Do! What can he do?” laughed Wilfred. ”His hands are tied. I am glad on the whole that he has come, for the place is accursed. It has never given me anything but misery. I have been in a constant fever.
And Roger will suffer more, I am glad to say. As for you, mother, serve you right if you never have another day's happiness.”
”Wilfred, my boy,” said mother, ”how can you say so?”
”Say so,” repeated Wilfred, ”because you have been my real curse. Who taught me first to envy Roger? You. Who taught me to hate him afterwards? You. Who was ever at my elbow seeking to make me misrepresent his every action? You. Who taught me how to deceive Ruth? You. But for you I should have been content to be the younger son, content to be the vicar of the parish; but bitterness was instilled into my heart as a child, until I hated him as I hate all the world. I wish he had killed me a year ago, for then I would have haunted him until life should be such a ghastly possession that he should seek death. But, never mind. Trewinion's curse is fulfilled in him; he has suffered, and he will have to suffer.”
”How?” I said, with pain at my heart.
”How?” he said, ”You have broken every condition of happiness, you have violated every law of our people. It is a law that Trewinion's heir should never be away from the homestead for more than six months at a time, and you have been away eleven years. It is written in the curse, at which you have reason to tremble, that if you stray from G.o.d's pure laws you shall be cursed and crushed by a younger brother. The curse of our people ever rests upon the heir who hates, and you hate me.”
I did not believe in the ”curse” at this time; I felt that Wilfred had a purpose in speaking thus, and yet a strange awesome feeling crept around my heart as he spoke. Did Wilfred really believe in this legend of our people? I did not know. Certainly all our family had believed it in the past, and strange things had happened to our race. Was ill-luck ever to follow me? Was a dark pall ever to rest upon my life?
All this time I had been living in a sort of dream. I had as yet scarcely realised that Wilfred was not dead, as yet the awful weight that had so long rested upon my shoulders was scarcely lifted.
”Wilfred,” I said at length, ”why you speak thus I do not know. For my own part I have ceased to believe in that old story which has been handed down from generation to generation. Or if I believe it, I believe that it is as applicable to the rest of the world as to me. If we sin we suffer, if we hate we live in h.e.l.l. I have sinned, and I have suffered, I have hated and I have been in h.e.l.l. But I trust it is over now. I have repented of my sin, and I believe G.o.d has forgiven me. I do not believe a curse can rest upon those whose hearts are full of love.”
”But that does not free you, for you hate--you hate me.”
”No, Wilfred, no, I love you.”
”Love me! You do not know. I have always schemed to ruin you. All my life I have hated you; all my life I have sought to thwart your every purpose. All the misery you have had has been through me, your years of homeless wandering have been due to me. It was I who sought to take away the love of the woman to whom you had given your heart, and since you left the last time, and she believed that you did not intend to kill me, I have been to her and told her that you used the basest means to kill me, and that I only escaped by a miracle. I tell you I have blackened your life at every possible opportunity, I have robbed you of the best part of your manhood, through me you will die lonely, forsaken, despairing; do you hate me now?”
”And does Ruth believe you?” I said.
”Yes,” he shrieked, ”and she shudders at the mention of your name. You are the terror of her life, and I have made you so.”
Again I had to struggle or I should have hated him again. Ay, I began to hate him in spite of my trouble, and then I prayed as I had prayed away in Smyrna, ”Lord, help me to love,” and even as I prayed all my bitter feelings pa.s.sed away, as they had pa.s.sed away then.
”Brother Wilfred, I love you still,” I said.
He seemed staggered at my words, and he turned to his mother as though in astonishment.
”Are you going to be a fool?” cried she, ”are you going to yield to his folly? Surely, if he is a fool you need not be one. He believes that Trewinion's curse is an old wives' fable--let him believe it. But you are the younger brother, and according to it you have the power to curse him. Curse him, then; let all the darkness that can befall a Trewinion fall on him. If he be married, let curses fall on him and his wife. If he has children, let curses rest upon them. While he lives let darkness ever be in him and around him, and when he dies may powers of darkness attend him even as they attended his father's father.”
My mother spoke in a voice full of pa.s.sion, and I knew if such a curse could take effect she would hurl it at me. Her words, too, seemed to fan Wilfred's hate into a flame, a hatred which, I thought, lessened when I told him I loved him.
”Ah, yes,” he cried, ”you do not believe in those lines our father showed you on your fifteenth birthday They have become to you but an idle tale, but you will know they are true, and you will know, too, that Wilfred cannot be thwarted without making you suffer. Listen to them:--