<h2> Chapter 7 </h2><br/>
<br/>
<p>The moment of retiring, to which I had been looking forward
with considerable interest as one likely to bring fresh
surprises, arrived at last: it brought only extreme
discomfort. I was conducted (without a flat candlestick)
along an obscure passage; then, at right angles with the
first, a second broader, lighter passage, leading past a
great many doors placed near together. These, I ascertained
later, were the dormitories, or sleeping-cells, and were
placed side by side in a row opening on the terrace at the
back of the house. Having reached the door of my box, my
conductor pushed back the sliding-panel, and when I had
groped my way to the dark interior, closed it again behind
me. There was no light for me except the light of the stars;
for directly opposite the door by which I had entered stood
another, open wide to the night, which was apparently not
intended ever to be closed. The prospect was the one I had
already seen—the wilderness sloping to the river, and
the glassy surface of the broad water, reflecting the stars,
and the black masses of large trees. There was no sound save
the hooting of an owl in the distance, and the wailing note
of some mournful-minded water-fowl. The night air blew in
cold and moist, which made my bones ache, though they were
not broken; and feeling very sleepy and miserable, I groped
about until I Was rewarded by discovering a narrow bed, or
cot of trellis-work, on which was a hard straw pallet and a
small straw pillow; also, folded small, a kind of woolen
sleeping garment. Too tired to keep out of even such an
uninviting bed, I flung off my clothes, and with my moldy
tweeds for only covering I laid me down, but not to sleep.
The misery of it! for although my body was warm—too
warm, in fact—the wind blew on my face and bare feet
and legs, and made it impossible to sleep.</p>
<p>About midnight, I was just falling into a doze when a sound
as of a person coming with a series of jumps into the room
disturbed me; and starting up I was horrified to see, sitting
on the floor, a great beast much too big for a dog, with
large, erect ears. He was intently watching me, his round
eyes shining like a pair of green phosphorescent globes.
Having no weapon, I was at the brute's mercy, and was about
to utter a loud shout to summon assistance, but as he sat so
still I refrained, and began even to hope that he would go
quietly away. Then he stood up, went back to the door and
sniffed audibly at it; and thinking that he was about to
relieve me of his unwelcome presence, I dropped my head on
the pillow and lay perfectly still. Then he turned and glared
at me again, and finally, advancing deliberately to my side,
sniffed at my face. It was all over with me now, I thought,
and closing my eyes, and feeling my forehead growing
remarkably moist in spite of the cold, I murmured a little
prayer. When I looked again the brute had vanished, to my
inexpressible relief.</p>
<p>It seemed very astonishing that an animal like a wolf should
come into the house; but I soon remembered that I had seen no
dogs about, so that all kinds of savage, prowling beasts
could come in with impunity. It was getting beyond a joke:
but then all this seemed only a fit ending to the perfectly
absurd arrangement into which I had been induced to enter.
"Goodness gracious!" I exclaimed, sitting bolt upright on my
straw bed, "am I a rational being or an inebriated donkey, or
what, to have consented to such a proposal? It is clear that
I was not quite in my right mind when I made the agreement,
and I am therefore not morally bound to observe it. What! be
a field laborer, a hewer of wood and drawer of water, and
sleep on a miserable straw mat in an open porch, with wolves
for visitors at all hours of the night, and all for a few
barbarous rags! I don't know much about plowing and that sort
of thing, but I suppose any able-bodied man can earn a pound
a week, and that would be fifty-two pounds for a suit of
clothes. Who ever heard of such a thing! Wolves and all
thrown in for nothing! I daresay I shall have a tiger
dropping in presently just to have a look round. No, no, my
venerable friend, that was all excellent acting about my
extraordinary delusions, and the rest of it, but I am not
going to be carried so far by them as to adhere to such an
outrageously one-sided bargain."</p>
<p>Presently I remembered two things—divine Yoletta was
the first; and the second was that thought of the rare
pleasure it would be to array myself in those same "barbarous
rags," as I had blasphemously called them. These things had
entered into my soul, and had become a part of
me—especially—well, both. Those strange garments
had looked so refreshingly picturesque, and I had conceived
such an intense longing to wear them! Was it a very
contemptible ambition on my part? Is it sinful to wish for
any adornments other than wisdom and sobriety, a meek and
loving spirit, good works, and other things of the kind?
Straight into my brain flashed the words of a sentence I had
recently read—that is to say, just before my
accident—in a biological work, and it comforted me as
much as if an angel with shining face and rainbow-colored
wings had paid me a visit in my dusky cell: "Unto Adam also,
and his wife, did the Lord God make coats of skin and clothed
them. This has become, as every one knows, a custom among the
race of men, and shows at present no sign of becoming
obsolete. Moreover, that first correlation, namely,
milk-glands and a hairy covering, appears to have entered the
very soul of creatures of this class, and to have become
psychical as well as physical, for in that type, which is
only <i>for a while</i> inferior to the angels, the fondness
for this kind of outer covering is a strong, ineradicable
passion!" Most true and noble words, O biologist of the fiery
soul! It was a delight to remember them. A "strong and
ineradicable passion," not merely to clothe the body, but to
clothe it appropriately, that is to say, beautifully, and by
so doing please God and ourselves. This being so, must we go
on for ever scraping our faces with a sharp iron, until they
are blue and spotty with manifold scrapings; and cropping our
hair short to give ourselves an artificial resemblance to old
dogs and monkeys—creatures lower than us in the scale
of being—and array our bodies, like mutes at a funeral,
in repulsive black—we, "Eutheria of the Eutheria, the
noble of the noble?" And all for what, since it pleases not
heaven nor accords with our own desires? For the sake of
respectability, perhaps, whatever that may mean. Oh, then, a
million curses take it—respectability, I mean; may it
sink into the bottomless pit, and the smoke of its torment
ascend for ever and ever! And having thus, by taking thought,
brought my mind into this temper, I once more finally
determined to have the clothes, and religiously to observe
the compact.</p>
<p>It made me quite happy to end it in this way. The hard bed,
the cold night wind blowing on me, my wolfish visitor, were
all forgotten. Once more I gave loose to my imagination, and
saw myself (clothed and in my right mind) sitting at
Yoletta's feet, learning the mystery of that sweet, tranquil
life from her precious lips. A whole year was mine in which
to love her and win her gentle heart. But her hand—ah,
that was another matter. What had I to give in return for
such a boon as that? Only that strength concerning which my
venerable host had spoken somewhat encouragingly. He had also
been so good as to mention my skill; but I could scarcely
trade on that. And if a whole year's labor was only
sufficient to pay for a suit of clothing, how many years of
toil would be required to win Yoletta's hand?</p>
<p>Naturally, at this juncture, I began to draw a parallel
between my case and that of an ancient historical personage,
whose name is familiar to most. History repeats
itself—with variations. Jacob—namely,
Smith—cometh to the well of Haran. He taketh
acquaintance of Rachel, here called Yoletta. And Jacob kissed
Rachel, and lifted up his voice and wept. That is a touch of
nature I can thoroughly appreciate—the kissing, I mean;
but why he wept I cannot tell, unless it be because he was
not an Englishman. And Jacob told Rachel that he was her
father's brother. I am glad to have no such startling piece
of information to give to the object of my affections: we are
not even distant relations, and her age being, say, fifteen,
and mine twenty-one, we are so far well suited to each other,
according to my notions. Smith covenanted! for Yoletta, and
said: "I will serve thee seven years for Yoletta, thy younger
daughter"; and the old gentleman answered: "Abide with me,
for I would rather you should have her than some other
person." Now I wonder whether the matter will be complicated
with Leah—that is, Edra? Leah was considerably older
than Rachel, and, like Edra, tender-eyed. I do not aspire or
desire to marry both, especially if I should, like Jacob,
have to begin with the wrong one, however tender-eyed: but
for divine Yoletta I could serve seven years; yea, and
fourteen, if it comes to it.</p>
<p>Thus I mused, and thus I questioned, tossing and turning on
my inhospitable hard bed, until merciful sleep laid her
quieting hands on the strings of my brain, and hushed their
weary jangling.</p>
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