Page:The Inner House.djvu/89

Rh The others were too sluggish to remember, until you had dragged their thoughts into the old channels; but there was no need to drag me; for I remember always, and I only pretended until the others should come with me."

Christine heard only half of this, for she was looking at the picture of the village funeral again.

"Oh, how could men be happy with such an end before them?" she cried. "I cannot understand it. To be torn away, to be laid in a box, to be put away deep underground, there to lie forever—oh!" She trembled again. "And not to be unhappy!"

"Look round the room, Christine. Read the faces. Here are portraits of men and women. Some of them are eager, some are calm, more are unhappy for thinking of the end. Here is a battle-field; the dead and wounded are lying about the ground. Look at this troop of horsemen charging. Is there any terror in their faces? What do they care about the men who have fallen? Their duty is to fight. See here again. It is a dying girl. What do you read in her face? I see no fear, but a sweet joy of resignation. Here is a man led forth to execution. There is no fear in his face."

"I could never bear to be alone in this room, because Death is everywhere, and no one seems to regard it."

"Christine, did you never hear, by any chance, from your grandfather why people were not afraid?"

"No; he cannot bear to speak of such a thing. He trembles and shakes if it is even mentioned. They all do, except you."

"What does he tell you?"

"He talks of the time when he was young. It was long before the Great Discovery. Oh, he is very old. He was always going to feasts and dances. He had a