The Witch of Prague eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 497 pages of information about The Witch of Prague.

The Witch of Prague eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 497 pages of information about The Witch of Prague.

“And you,” said Unorna, looking up at the sound.  “Will you not rest?  Why should you not sleep?”

“I am not tired.”

“You do not trust me, I think,” she answered sadly.  “And yet you might—­you might.”  Her voice died away dreamily.

“Trust you to watch that poor man?  Indeed I do.  You were not acting just now, when you touched him so tenderly.  You are in earnest.  You will be kind to him, and I thank you for it.”

“And you yourself?  Do you fear nothing from me, if you should sleep before my eyes?  Do you not fear that in your unconsciousness I might touch you and make you more unconscious still and make you dream dreams and see visions?”

The Wanderer looked at her and smiled incredulously, partly out of scorn for the imaginary danger, and partly because something told him that she had changed and would not attempt any of her witchcraft upon him.

“No,” he answered.  “I am not afraid of that.”

“You are right,” she said gravely.  “My sins are enough already.  The evil is sufficient.  Do as you will.  If you can sleep, then sleep in peace.  If you will watch, watch with me.”

Then neither spoke again.  Unorna bent her head as she had done before.  The Wanderer leaned back resting comfortably against the cushion of the high carved chair, his eyes directed towards the place where Israel Kafka lay.  The air was warm, the scent of the flowers sweet but not heavy.  The silence was intense, for even the little fountain was still.  He had watched almost all night and his eyelids drooped.  He forgot Unorna and thought only of the sick man, trying to fix his attention on the pale head as it lay under the bright light.

When Unorna looked up at last she saw that he was asleep.  At first she was surprised, in spite of what she had said to him half an hour earlier, for she herself could not have closed her eyes, and felt that she could never close them again.  Then she sighed.  It was but one proof more of his supreme indifference.  He had not even cared to speak to her, and if she had not constantly spoken to him throughout the hours they had passed together he would perhaps have been sleeping long before now.

And yet she feared to wake him and was almost glad that he was unconscious.  In the solitude she could gaze on him to her heart’s desire, she could let her eyes look their fill, and no one could say her nay.  He must be very tired, she thought, and she vaguely wondered why she felt no bodily weariness, when her soul was so heavy.

She sat still and watched him.  It might be the last time, she thought, for who could tell what would happen to-morrow?  She shuddered as she thought of it all.  What would Beatrice do?  What would Sister Paul say?  How much would she tell of what she had seen?  How much had she really seen which she could tell clearly?  There were terrible possibilities in the future if all were known.  Such deeds, and even the attempt at such deeds as she had tried to do, could be judged by the laws of the land, she might be brought to trial, if she lived, as a common prisoner, and held up to the execration of the world in all her shame and guilt.  But death would be worse than that.  As she thought of that other Judgment, she grew dizzy with horror as she had been when the idea had first entered her brain.

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The Witch of Prague from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.