Читать книгу Jewel sowers. A novel онлайн

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“Once I get inside there I am dumb for ever,” she cried to herself, as she stumbled up the darkening aisle. “Oh, I cannot go—I cannot! I want to live like other people. To be free—free—free!”

And so she knelt down beside the altar railings, and buried her face in her hands against its golden bars.

“Oh, Serpent, let me speak! Give me a tongue like other people have. I cannot go to that asylum—I cannot really. I cannot live without my aunt. We are all in all to each other. What good am I if I remain a speechless log? I might as well be dead.”

No answer. Darkness and silence. That was all. The impenetrable hardness of it sank to Rosalie’s heart. Suddenly she got up and looked round cautiously, with pale face and dark-rimmed eyes. There was no noise. Nothing moved in the empty building save herself. Silent and trembling, she took a step forward inside the railing, then another, and her hand touched the crimson curtain. Again she looked around, assured herself again that she was quite alone, silently drew back the heavy fold and stepped within. The lights upon the altar, burning by day and night, changed the dull gloom to brightness. Her wandering, awe-struck gaze fell full upon the Serpent, its head and jewelled eyes all shining underneath the slowly swinging lights.