Moths by Ouida — page 346: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

342 7 - MOTHS. angels; they could not see the singer. Stretched as in prayer, with her face hidden, the mistress of Szarisla, who was also the captive of Szarisla, never moved. The divine melody floated through the dimness and the still- ness of the lonely Polish church; the priest stood motionless and dumb; the people were mute; some of them wept in ecstasy. When it ceased, they prostrated themselves on the earth. They believed that the angels of God were among them. Vere rose slowly and stood pale and still, shrouded from head to foot in fur. She looked toward the shadows behind the altar. There she saw Correze, aS she had known that she would see him. He came forward and bowed low. His eyes had a timidity and a fear in the wistfulness of their appeal to her. They stood before each other, and were silent, “Ts this how you obey me?” her glance said to him without words. .“Rorgive me,’ he murmured aloud, By this time the people had' risen, and were gazing at him, amazed to find him but a mortal man. Vere turned to the priest, and her voice trembled a little: “You are not angry, father? Will you not rather thank this— traveler? he is known to me.” In Latin the priest spoke his admiration and his thanks, and in Latin the singer replied. Vere looked at him, and said, simply, ‘“‘Come.”’ Correze obeyed her,.and moved by her side. He dared not touch her hand, or speak any ‘word that might offend her. He could see nothing of her face or form for the black furs that swept from her head to her feet. She passed into the sacristy with a passing word to the priest. She threw the heavy door close with her own hands, and let the furs fall off her in a heap upon the floor. Then for the first time she looked at him. “Why do you come? It is unworthy——” He moved as if,a blow had been struck him; his eyes long- ing and passionate, burned like stars; he too cast his furs down; he stood before her with a proud humiliation in his attitude and his look. “That is a harsh word,” he said, simply. ‘I have been in this district for weeks; I ‘have seen you pass with your swift horses: I have been in your church before now; when you are im- prisoned here do you think I could live elsewhere, do you think I could sing in gay cities? For some months I knew nothing, I heard that you were on your Russian estates, and nothing more; when I was in Styria five weeks ago, I heard for the first time that you were in Poland. A man who knew your husband spoke of Szarisla as no place for a woman. Then I came. Are you offended? Was I wrong? You cannot be here of your own will. It is a prison... When I rang at the gates they told me it was the prince’s order that you should see no one. It is a captivity!” Vere was silent, EOmiIGe 900 CS (alo)