Short Fiction, Fyodor Sologub [most popular novels of all time .txt] 📗

clouds. Everything in front of us was flaming, all the shore was suffused with crimson as if blushing with happiness, the air was so clear, so calm, so full of rosy colour that one wanted to weep and to laugh at the same time. It was as if a pure golden light had dissolved in tears and blood, and the soul was full of rapture and sorrow. Oh, I cannot say how I felt then. I think I didn’t know then what was happening to me. Some unknown force overpowered me, and I felt unable to withstand it. It was as if a curtain had been lifted from my life, as if the triumphant light of this heavenly glow had suddenly illumined in a clear light before me something which I had never noticed before⁠—and I suddenly understood that Bernard Horn was in love with me.”

Edward Roggenfeldt stroked his wife’s hand tenderly as he said in a caressing tone:

“He fell in love with you the first time he saw you.”

Agnes was beginning to conquer her agitation, and her voice rang out clearly and young as she continued:

“I looked at him. I knew that I was doing wrong, but I knew that in that moment I was happy. Never for one moment, dear Edward, did I love you less. But someone powerful and insidious seemed to whisper to me that the soul of man is broad and high, that the soul of man is greater than the world, and that love knows neither bounds nor measure.

“I don’t remember what we talked about, but I remember where we went. It was already beginning to get dark, for we had gone into the forest, and the midnight glow came faintly through the trees. I listened to the voice of love. I kissed Bernard Horn. I lay submissively in his arms and responded to his caresses with passionate embraces, and I laughed and wept. I laughed as I haven’t known how to laugh for a long time; I wept as I weep now.”

The tears trickled gently down her cheeks. Edward Roggenfeldt put his arms about her and soothed her, saying:

“Don’t weep. Don’t weep, my dear Agnes. You have been a faithful wife to me.”

And she, weeping bitterly, restraining her tears no longer, continued:

“I was false to you, my dear one, on that passionate, that beautiful night. I lost my senses, and what I did then seemed neither dreadful nor shameful. I leant on Bernard’s arm as we walked home from the forest, and I listened to him and talked to him and was not ashamed nor fearful. When we parted near our house I gave him the crimson ribbon I wore for a memory. And he has kept it all these years.”

VII

Agnes was silent for a moment. Her eyes held a rapturous expression, and dilated as she gazed before her. Her face showed the remembrance of past happiness. Presently she went on:

“The next day I came to myself. I was overcome by shame and terror. I was utterly unlike myself all day. Bernard came as usual in the evening. He was thoughtful and confused. He looked me straight in the eyes and understood what I was feeling, and it grieved him. I seized a moment when we were alone together to say, ‘Dear Bernard, we have done very wrong. I forgot my duty; I broke faith with my husband whom I love truly and devotedly. I don’t know what happened to me,’ I said to him, ‘but when we were together yesterday I felt as if I loved you.’ ”

“You have always loved him, Agnes, since the first time you saw him,” said her husband in a very quiet gentle tone.

Agnes trembled a little. She wanted to look up at her husband, but could not, and she went on hurriedly:

“ ‘I am very sinful,’ I said to Bernard Horn, ‘because I love you both, my dear husband and you. This is a great sin in the sight of God and of men,’ I said, ‘a sin, because a wife ought to be faithful to her husband, and he to her. Dear Bernard,’ said I to him, ‘I shall always cherish the sweet memory of last night, but what happened then must never be repeated, and I must never again walk alone with you on this beautiful shore. And you, dear Bernard, must give me your word that you will never ask me what I cannot give you, and you won’t expect kisses from me.’ I wept as I spoke to him, like a little girl, and my heart was torn with grief and with a strange joy. I knew my sin, and my contrite heart trembled in my bosom. I repented, and in that moment I knew that He who had given me a heart to love and to be happy had forgiven me. Bernard looked lovingly at me, and I saw that he was touched to the depths of his soul. He kissed my hand and said, ‘Don’t take away the crimson ribbon from me, dear Agnes,’ and I whispered back, ‘Keep it,’ and ran away to my own room. For a long time I wept there, and I wanted to weep endlessly. But I remembered that I must see after the supper, and I came downstairs, after carefully bathing my swollen eyelids in cold water.”

Agnes was silent, and with a timid imploring gaze looked up at her husband. The eyes of the old man glowed as radiantly as in his youth. He put his arm around his wife tenderly and said:

“I remember that day, dear Agnes. I remember it, because I knew all. I saw you and I understood everything.”

“You knew!” exclaimed Agnes quietly. “You knew, and said nothing to me!”

“I knew,” said Professor Roggenfeldt, “that you said nothing to me about the matter for fear of hurting me. I trusted you; I knew you were loyal to me; and if you did sin against me then I forgave you