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Its dimness and shadowed coloured light suited Brandon to-day. He wanted to be where no one could see him, where he could gather together the resistance with which to meet the world. He paced up and down, his hands behind his back; he fancied that the old saints looked at him with kindly affection.
In the vision of the distances, where desert blent with sky, earth surely curving up to meet the downward curving heaven, the dimness was like a voice whispering strange petitions. The ranges of mountains slept in the burning sand, and the light slept in their clefts like the languid in cool places.
He had fallen into complete darkness, and felt an icy chill about the shoulders similar to the sensation that might be caused by a wet towel. But, little by little, his eyes became accustomed to the dimness.
By and by, in the dimness of the translucent evening, our vessel stopped once more I could not tell why or wherefore, till a splash of oars was heard and some bargelike craft was decipherable emerging out of the gloom to meet us.
"Goethe," said the curate, "has a little parable about poems, which is equally true about parables 'Poems are painted window-panes. If one looks from the square into the church, Dusk and dimness are his gains Sir Philistine is left in the lurch. The sight, so seen, may well enrage him, Nor any words henceforth assuage him.
Before long he saw in Caroline's eyes the dimness attributed to long hours at night. One night, towards the end of the month, the Gentleman in Black passed down the Rue du Tourniquet at the quite unwonted hour of one in the morning.
"BE still, effendi!" It was no more than a whisper, but it pierced Herne's understanding as a burst of light through a rent curtain. He opened his eyes wide. "Hassan!" he said faintly. "I am here, effendi." Very cautiously came the answer, and in the dimness a figure familiar to him stooped over Herne. Herne tried to raise himself and failed with a groan.
The cavalier was pacing to and fro in the dimness of the convent parlour, with quick, agitated steps, his nostrils quivering, grizzled brows bent over angry eyes, his hand trembling with rage as it clutched his sword-hilt. The reverend mother drew Angela to her side, took off the little black silk hood, and laid her hand caressingly on the soft brown hair. "Was it Cromwell's work?" she asked.
Dampness and darkness were round about me. As before, for days and days I rose exultant in the light, so now forever I sank into thickening darkness, and yet not darkness, but a pale, ashy light more fearful. In the dimness, I at length discovered a wall before me. It ran up and down and on either hand endlessly into the night. It was solid, black, terrible in its frowning massiveness.
The cigarette fell from his shaking hands, and he was half out of the bed before the rational part of his mind could cut off the fear thoughts. He flipped on the lights, afraid of the dimness. It didn't help. The room was dusty, as if unused for months, and there was a cobweb in one corner by the mirror. His own face shocked him.
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