XXI
Rotwang awoke; but he knew quite well he was dead. And this consciousness filled him with the deepest satisfaction. His aching body no longer had anything to do with him. That was perhaps the last remains of life. But something worried him deeply, as he raised himself up and looked around in all directions: Hel was not there.
Hel must be foundвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶
An existence without Hel was over at last. A second one?вБ†вАФNo! Better than to stay dead.
He got up on his feet. That was very difficult. He must have been lying as a corpse for a good long time. It was night, too. A fire was raging out there, and it was all very noiseвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Shrieking of human beingsвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶
HmвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶
He had hoped to have been rid of them. But, apparently the Almighty Creator could not get along without them. NowвБ†вАФbut one purpose. He just wanted his Hel. When he had found Hel, he wouldвБ†вАФhe promised himself this!вБ†вАФnever again quarrel with the father of all things, about anything at allвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶
So now he wentвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ The door leading to the street was open and hanging crookedly on its hinges. Strange. He stepped in front of the house and looked deliberatingly around. What he saw seemed to be a kind of Metropolis; but a rather insane kind of Metropolis. The houses seemed as though struck still in St.¬†VitusвАЩ dance. And an uncommonly rough and impolite sort of people was ramping around a flaming bonfire, upon which a creature of rare beauty was standing, seeming, to Rotwang, to be wondrously at ease.
AhвБ†вАФIt was that, ah yesвБ†вАФthat, in the existence which, thank the Lord, lay far behind him, he had tried to create, to replace his lost HelвБ†вАФjust to make the handiwork of the Creator of the world look rather sillyвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Not bad for a beginningвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ hmвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ but, good God, compared with Hel; what an object; what a bungleвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶
The shrieking individuals down there were quite right to burn the thing. Though it appeared to him to be rather a show of idiocy to destroy his test-work. But perhaps that was the custom of the people in this existence, and he certainly did not want to argue with them. He wanted to find HelвБ†вАФhis HelвБ†вАФand nothing elseвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶
He knew exactly where to look for her. She loved the cathedral so dearly, did his pious Hel. And, if the flickering light of the bonfire did not deceive himвБ†вАФfor the greenish sky gave no glimmerвБ†вАФHel was standing, like a frightened child in the blackness of the cathedral door, her slender hands clasped firmly upon her breast, looking more saint-like than ever.
Past those who were raving around the bonfireвБ†вАФalways politely avoiding getting in their wayвБ†вАФRotwang quietly groped his way to the cathedral.
Yes, it was his HelвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ She receded into the cathedral. He groped his way up the steps. How high the door lookedвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Coolness and hovering incense received himвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ All the saints in the pillar niches had pious and lovely faces, smiling gently, as though they rejoiced with him that he was now, at last, to find Hel, his Hel, again.
She was standing at the foot of the belfry steps. She seemed to him to be very pale and indescribably pathetic. Through a narrow window the first pale light of the morning fell upon her hair and brow.
вАЬHel,вАЭ said Rotwang, his heart streaming over; he stretched out his hands. вАЬCome to me, my HelвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ How long, how long I had to live without you!вАЭ
But she did not come. She started back from him. Her face full of horror, she started back from him.
вАЬHel,вАЭ begged the man, вАЬwhy are you afraid of me? I am no ghost, although I am dead. I had to die, to come to you. I have always, always longed for you. You have no right to leave me alone now! I want your hands! Give them to me!вАЭ
But his groping fingers snatched into space. Footsteps were hurrying up the steps of the stone-staircase which led to the belfry.
Something like anger came over RotwangвАЩs heart. Deep in his dulled and tortured soul reposed the memory of a day upon which Hel had likewise fled from himвБ†вАФto anotherвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ No, donвАЩt think, donвАЩt think of itвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ That was a part of his first existence, and it would be quite senseless to go through the same againвБ†вАФIn the other, and, as humanity in general hoped, better world.
Why was Hel fleeing from him? He groped along after her. Climbed up stairs upon stairs. The hastening, frightened footsteps remained constantly before him. And the higher the woman before him fled, the more wildly did his heart beat in this mighty ascent, the redder did RotwangвАЩs eyes become filled with blood, the more furiously did his anger boil up within him. She should not run away from himвБ†вАФshe should not! If only he could catch her by the hand he would never, never let her go again! He would forge a ring about her wrist with his metal handвБ†вАФand then she should never try to escape him againвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ to another!
They had both reached the belfry. They raced along under the bells. He blocked the way to the stairs. He laughed, sadly and evilly.
вАЬHel, my Hel, you can no longer escape me!вАЭ
She made a swift, despairing leap, and hung on the rope of the bell which was called Saint Michael. Saint Michael raised his ore voice, but it sounded as though broken, complaining wildly. RotwangвАЩs laughter mingled with the sound of the bell. His metal arm, the marvellous achievement of a genius, stretched, like the phantom arm of a skeleton, far out on the sleeve of his coat, and snatched at the bell-rope.
вАЬHel, my Hel, you can no longer escape me!вАЭ
The girl staggered back against the breastwork. She looked around. She was trembling like a bird. She could not go down the stairs. Neither could she go any higher. She was trapped. She saw RotwangвАЩs eyes and saw his hands. And, without hesitation, without reflection, with a ferocity which swept a blaze of scarlet across the pallor of her face, she swung herself out of the belfry window, to hang upon the steel cord of the lightning conductor.
вАЬFrederвБ†вАФ!!вАЭ she screamed. вАЬHelp meвБ†вАФ!!вАЭ
BelowвБ†вАФfar below, near the flaming pyre, lay a trampled creature, his forehead in the dust. But the scream from above smote him so unexpectedly that he shot up, as if under the lash, he sought and he sawвБ†вАФ
And all those who had been dancing in wild rings around the bonfire of the witch saw, as heвБ†вАФstiffenedвБ†вАФpetrified: The girl who hung, swallowlike, clinging to the tower of the cathedral, with RotwangвАЩs hands stretching out towards her.
And they all heard how, in the shouted answer: вАЬI am coming, Maria, I am comingвБ†вАФ!вАЭ there cried out all the relief and all the despair which can fill the heart of a man to whom Heaven and Hell are equally near.