The Witch of Prague | Page 6

hourly tortured, delighted, caught up into ecstasy,
torn and crushed by jealousy and fear, or plunged into the frigid waters
of despair.
The melancholy hymn resounded through the vast church, but though
the Wanderer stretched the faculty of hearing to the utmost, he could no
longer find the note he sought amongst the vibrations of the dank and
heavy air. Then an irresistible longing came upon him to turn and force
his way through the dense throng of men and women, to reach the aisle
and press past the huge pillar till he could slip between the tombstone
of the astronomer and the row of back wooden seats. Once there, he
should see her face to face.
He turned, indeed, as he stood, and he tried to move a few steps. On all
sides curious looks were directed upon him, but no one offered to make
way, and still the monotonous singing continued until he felt himself
deafened, as he faced the great congregation.
"I am ill," he said in a low voice to those nearest to him. "Pray let me
pass!"
His face was white, indeed, and those who heard his words believed
him. A mild old man raised his sad blue eyes, gazed at him, and while
trying to draw back, gently shook his head. A pale woman, whose
sickly features were half veiled in the folds of a torn black shawl,
moved as far as she could, shrinking as the very poor and miserable
shrink when they are expected to make way before the rich and the
strong. A lad of fifteen stood upon tiptoe to make himself even slighter
than he was and thus to widen the way, and the Wanderer found
himself, after repeated efforts, as much as two steps distant from his
former position. He was still trying to divide the crowd when the music
suddenly ceased, and the tones of the organ died away far up under the

western window. It was the moment of the Elevation, and the first
silvery tinkling of the bell, the people swayed a little, all those who
were able kneeling, and those whose movements were impeded by the
press of worshippers bending towards the altar as a field of grain before
the gale. The Wanderer turned again and bowed himself with the rest,
devoutly and humbly, with half-closed eyes, as he strove to collect and
control his thoughts in the presence of the chief mystery of his Faith.
Three times the tiny bell was rung, a pause followed, and thrice again
the clear jingle of the metal broke the solemn stillness. Then once more
the people stirred, and the soft sound of their simultaneous motion was
like a mighty sigh breathed up from the secret vaults and the deep
foundations of the ancient church; again the pedal note of the organ
boomed through the nave and aisles, and again the thousands of human
voices took up the strain of song.
The Wanderer glanced about him, measuring the distance he must
traverse to reach the monument of the Danish astronomer and
confronting it with the short time which now remained before the end
of the Mass. He saw that in such a throng he would have no chance of
gaining the position he wished to occupy in less than half an hour, and
he had not but a scant ten minutes at his disposal. He gave up the
attempt therefore, determining that when the celebration should be over
he would move forward with the crowd, trusting to his superior stature
and energy to keep him within sight of the woman he sought, until both
he and she could meet, either just within or just without the narrow
entrance of the church.
Very soon the moment of action came. The singing died away, the
benediction was given, the second Gospel was read, the priest and the
people repeated the Bohemian prayers, and all was over. The countless
heads began to move onward, the shuffling of innumerable feet sent
heavy, tuneless echoes through vaulted space, broken every moment by
the sharp, painful cough of a suffering child whom no one could see in
the multitude, or by the dull thud of some heavy foot striking against
the wooden seats in the press. The Wanderer moved forward with the
rest. Reaching the entrance of the pew where she had sat he was kept
back during a few seconds by the half dozen men and women who were

forcing their way out of it before him. But at the farthest end, a figure
clothed in black was still kneeling. A moment more and he might enter
the pew and be at her side. One of the other women dropped something
before she was out of the narrow space, and stooped, fumbling and
searching in