Chapter 17 Dance With The Devil By Gunther Schwab Written in 1963.
THE
NIGHT WAS LONG; IT SMELT OF DUST, BURNING AND
destruction.
There was a deathly silence everywhere.
No
star was to be seen.
God
had stretched out his finger to the artificial world, and with all its
skyscrapers, its machines,
and
its advertising hoardings, it had sunk into ruin, as though it were a scattered
handful of sand.
When
Rolande opened her eyes, she saw above her the calm light of a great star.
It
was cold.
She
raised herself and her body hurt her. She pushed the hair from her forehead;
a
violent sobbing seemed to come from the very depths of her soul and shook her
whole body.
Slowly,
very slowly, the memory of what had happened came back to her.
She
looked about. T
he
east was already bright and showed the contours of heaps of rubble and of
pillars of smoke.
The
girl tried to get up but cold and pain seemed to paralyse her.
With
a cry she sank back. "Sten," she cried. "Sten ! "
There
was no answer. It was only then that she called out:
"Bob
Harding ! Mr. Groot!" And again, "Sten ! "
Painfully
she raised herself and felt herself all over.
Her
dress hung in rags about her. At her breast she felt the little sack with the
holy grains of corn,
and
suddenly it seemed as though a comforting power reached out from them to
herself.
"Sten!"
Slowly
she began to pick her way between the ruins.
The
dim light of the day just enabled her to see what was before her.
Then
her foot trod on something soft. With a cry of fear, she collapsed.
Staring,
open-eyed, the dead man looked into the world.
It
was Harding.
His
limbs had been shattered.
Rolande
closed his eyes.
Then
she went on; she had to find Sten.
A
few paces farther lay Groot, half buried.
He
too was dead.
She
did not stay with him.
"Sten
! " she cried. "Sten ! "
Swaying
and stumbling, she staggered through the lunar landscape of the devastated
earth
and
her call was as the sobbing of a lost soul.
The
eastern sky grew red; so this tortured and insulted star still turned !
There
was still a sun ! Oh, the sun !
"Sten!"
Then
she found him. He lay on his face, with his arms out-stretched, and did not
stir.
Weeping, Rolande threw herself upon him and
turned him over.
His
face was bloody and still.
She
felt his limbs, which seemed to be unharmed, put her ear to his breast and was
filled with joy.
His
heart was still beating.
Rolande
made feverish haste to help him.
She
stroked back the hair and wiped the dust from his face.
With
all her strength she managed to raise him and drag him a little way to a heap
of rubble beside
which
there was a little space of soft earth.
"Sten
! " she cried, and kissed him again and again.
Suddenly
he opened his eyes, saw Rolande. He started to smile, then fainted again.
She
remained lying beside him, pressed close, so that they warmed one another.
She
was exhausted and soon fell asleep.
When
they awoke the sun was in the sky.
"Where
are the others?" asked Sten.
"They
are dead."
"Rolande
! " he cried suddenly. "Look ! "
In
the middle of the ruined landscape stood a tree, laden with blossom.
They
went near to it, astonished by the miracle.
It was an apple tree, and they smelt its
scent.
Bees
buzzed round it and went from flower to flower.
"How
is it possible," whispered Sten, "that in the midst of all this ruin,
this tree survives?
The
bees —"
On
the apple tree there was a nesting-box made of wood.
Birds
twittered in it and the older ones flew up and down with food in their beaks.
Heaven
alone knew where they had found it.
"Over
animals and plants the Devil has no power," said Rolande.
"They
have not been guilty of sin."
"True
! But the nesting box? That was made by man."
"When
the work of man serves life, God allows it to remain."
They
went away. They buried Harding and Groot, and piled rubble above them.
Then
they wandered on, and the sun shone down upon them.
Not
a living soul was to be seen.
The
sky grew blue; isolated birds flew off into the unknown;
the
huge ruins of the town covered the earth for many miles.
Tired,
hungry and thirsty, Rolande and Sten returned in the evening to the blossoming
tree.
Here
the earth had remained undamaged. It might have been a garden.
Black,
loose soil piled up about their feet. Not far away, water trickled from a
broken pipe.
"What
now, Sten?"
"We're
alive, Rolande, so we must believe that we're meant to live.
We
must give ourselves wholly over into God's hands and gladly accept what He
sends us,
be
it life or death."
The
girl drew out from her dress the little sack with the wheaten grain.
The
yellow-gold corn ran into the palm of her hand.
An
ancient song came into her mind, a song that the peasants of a forgotten age
had
sung when they sowed. Softly, hesitatingly, she tried to sing it.
Then
the words and melody came back to her, and her voice sounded deep and clear.
Sten
watched her, admiration in his eyes.
With
his hands he dug, and the girl put grain after grain into the warm, breathing,
soil.
It
was the seed of a new age.
Singing,
she covered the grains with earth.
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