A CRYSTAL AGE

BY W. H. HUDSON

PREFACE

_Romances of the future, however fantastic they may be, have for mostof us a perennial if mild interest, since they are born of a very commonfeeling--a sense of dissatisfaction with the existing order of things, combined with a vague faith in or hope of a better one to come. Thepicture put before us is false; we knew it would be false before lookingat it, since we cannot imagine what is unknown any more than we canbuild without materials. Our mental atmosphere surrounds and shuts us inlike our own skins; no one can boast that he has broken out of thatprison. The vast, unbounded prospect lies before us, but, as the poetmournfully adds, "clouds and darkness rest upon it. " Nevertheless wecannot suppress all curiosity, or help asking one another, What is yourdream--your ideal? What is your News from Nowhere, or, rather, what isthe result of the little shake your hand has given to the old pasteboardtoy with a dozen bits of colored glass for contents? And, most importantof all, can you present it in a narrative or romance which will enableme to pass an idle hour not disagreeably? How, for instance, does itcompare in this respect with other prophetic books on the shelf?_

_I am not referring to living authors; least of all to that flamingo ofletters who for the last decade or so has been a wonder to our islandbirds. For what could I say of him that is not known to every one--thathe is the tallest of fowls, land or water, of a most singular shape, andhas black-tipped crimson wings folded under his delicate rose-coloredplumage? These other books referred to, written, let us say, from thirtyor forty years to a century or two ago, amuse us in a way their poordead authors never intended. Most amusing are the dead ones who takethemselves seriously, whose books are pulpits quaintly carved anddecorated with precious stones and silken canopies in which they standand preach to or at their contemporaries. _

_In like manner, in going through this book of mine after so many years Iam amused at the way it is colored by the little cults and crazes, andmodes of thought of the 'eighties of the last century. They were soimportant then, and now, if remembered at all, they appear so trivial!It pleases me to be diverted in this way at "A Crystal Age"--to find, infact, that I have not stood still while the world has been moving. _

_This criticism refers to the case, the habit, of the book rather thanto its spirit, since when we write we do, as the red man thought, impartsomething of our souls to the paper, and it is probable that if I wereto write a new dream of the future it would, though in some respectsvery different from this, still be a dream and picture of the human racein its forest period. _

_Alas that in this case the wish cannot induce belief! For now I rememberanother thing which Nature said--that earthly excellence can come in noway but one, and the ending of passion and strife is the beginning ofdecay. It is indeed a hard saying, and the hardest lesson we can learnof her without losing love and bidding good-by forever to hope. _

W. H. H. 

A CRYSTAL AGE

Chapter 1

I do not quite know how it happened, my recollection of the whole matterebbing in a somewhat clouded condition. I fancy I had gone somewhere ona botanizing expedition, but whether at home or abroad I don't know. Atall events, I remember that I had taken up the study of plants with agood deal of enthusiasm, and that while hunting for some variety in themountains I sat down to rest on the edge of a ravine. Perhaps it was onthe ledge of an overhanging rock; anyhow, if I remember rightly, theground gave way all about me, precipitating me below. The fall was avery considerable one--probably thirty or forty feet, or more, and I wasrendered unconscious. How long I lay there under the heap of earth andstones carried down in my fall it is impossible to say: perhaps a longtime; but at last I came to myself and struggled up from the_debris_, like a mole coming to the surface of the earth to feelthe genial sunshine on his dim eyeballs. I found myself standing (oddlyenough, on all fours) in an immense pit created by the overthrow of agigantic dead tree with a girth of about thirty or forty feet. The treeitself had rolled down to the bottom of the ravine; but the pit in whichit had left the huge stumps of severed roots was, I found, situated in agentle slope at the top of the bank! How, then, I could have fallenseemingly so far from no height at all, puzzled me greatly: it looked asif the solid earth had been indulging in some curious transformationpranks during those moments or minutes of insensibility. Anothersingular circumstance was that I had a great mass of small fibrousrootlets tightly woven about my whole person, so that I was like acolossal basket-worm in its case, or a big man-shaped bottle coveredwith wicker-work. It appeared as if the roots had _grown_ round me!Luckily they were quite sapless and brittle, and without bothering mybrains too much about the matter, I set to work to rid myself of them. After stripping the woody covering off, I found that my tourist suit ofrough Scotch homespun had not suffered much harm, although the clothexuded a damp, moldy smell; also that my thick-soled climbing boots hadassumed a cracked rusty appearance as if I had been engaged in somebrick-field operations; while my felt hat was in such a discolored andbattered condition that I felt almost ashamed to put it on my head. Mywatch was gone; perhaps I had not been wearing it, but my pocket-book inwhich I had my money was safe in my breast pocket. 

Glad and grateful at having escaped with unbroken bones from such adangerous accident, I set out walking along the edge of the ravine, which soon broadened to a valley running between two steep hills; andthen, seeing water at the bottom and feeling very dry, I ran down theslope to get a drink. Lying flat on my chest to slake my thirst animalfashion, I was amazed at the reflection the water gave back of my face:it was, skin and hair, thickly encrusted with clay and rootlets! Havingtaken a long drink, I threw off my clothes to have a bath; and aftersplashing about for half an hour managed to rid my skin of itsaccumulations of dirt. While drying in the wind I shook the loose sandand clay from my garments, then dressed, and, feeling greatly refreshed, proceeded on my walk. 

For an hour or so I followed the valley in its many windings, but, failing to see any dwelling-place, I ascended a hill to get a view ofthe surrounding country. The prospect which disclosed itself when I hadgot a couple of hundred feet above the surrounding level, appearedunfamiliar. The hills among which I had been wandering were now behindme; before me spread a wide rolling country, beyond which rose amountain range resembling in the distance blue banked-up clouds withsummits and peaks of pearly whiteness. Looking on this scene I couldhardly refrain from shouting with joy, so glad did the sunlit expanse ofearth, and the pure exhilarating mountain breeze, make me feel. Theseason was late summer--that was plain to see; the ground was moist, asif from recent showers, and the earth everywhere had that intense livinggreenness with which it reclothes itself when the greater heats areover; but the foliage of the woods was already beginning to be touchedhere and there with the yellow and russet hues of decay. A more tranquiland soul-satisfying scene could not be imagined: the dear old motherearth was looking her very best; while the shifting golden sunlight, themysterious haze in the distance, and the glint of a wide stream not veryfar off, seemed to spiritualize her "happy autumn fields, " and bringthem into a closer kinship with the blue over-arching sky. There was onelarge house or mansion in sight, but no town, nor even a hamlet, and notone solitary spire. In vain I scanned the horizon, waiting impatientlyto see the distant puff of white steam from some passing engine. Thistroubled me not a little, for I had no idea that I had drifted so farfrom civilization in my search for specimens, or whatever it was thatbrought me to this pretty, primitive wilderness. Not quite a wilderness, however, for there, within a short hour's walk of the hill, stood theone great stone mansion, close to the river I had mentioned. There werealso horses and cows in sight, and a number of scattered sheep weregrazing on the hillside beneath me. 

Strange to relate, I met with a little misadventure on account of thesheep--an animal which one is accustomed to regard as of a timid andinoffensive nature. When I set out at a brisk pace to walk to the houseI have spoken of, in order to make some inquiries there, a few of thesheep that happened to be near began to bleat loudly, as if alarmed, andby and by they came hurrying after me, apparently in a great state ofexcitement. I did not mind them much, but presently a pair of horses, attracted by their bleatings, also seemed struck at my appearance, andcame at a swift gallop to within twenty yards of me. They weremagnificent-looking brutes, evidently a pair of well-groomed carriagehorses, for their coats, which were of a fine bronze color, sparkledwonderfully in the sunshine. In other respects they were very unlikecarriage animals, for they had tails reaching to the ground, likefuneral horses, and immense black leonine manes, which gave them astrikingly bold and somewhat formidable appearance. For some momentsthey stood with heads erect, gazing fixedly at me, and thensimultaneously delivered a snort of defiance or astonishment, so loudand sudden that it startled me like the report of a gun. This tremendousequine blast brought yet another enemy on the field in the shape of ahuge milk-white bull with long horns: a very noble kind of animal, butone which I always prefer to admire from behind a hedge, or at adistance through a field-glass. Fortunately his wrathful mutterings gaveme timely notice of his approach, and without waiting to discover hisintentions, I incontinently fled down the slope to the refuge of a groveor belt of trees clothing the lower portion of the hillside. Spent andpanting from my run, I embraced a big tree, and turning to face the foe, found that I had not been followed: sheep, horses, and bull were allgrouped together just where I had left them, apparently holding aconsultation, or comparing notes. 

The trees where I had sought shelter were old, and grew here and there, singly or in scattered groups: it was a pretty wilderness of mingledtree, shrub and flower. I was surprised to find here some very large andancient-looking fig-trees, and numbers of wasps and flies were busyfeeding on a few over-ripe figs on the higher branches. Honey-bees alsoroamed about everywhere, extracting sweets from the autumn bloom, andfilling the sunny glades with a soft, monotonous murmur of sound. Walking on full of happy thoughts and a keen sense of the sweetness oflife pervading me, I presently noticed that a multitude of small birdswere gathering about me, flitting through the trees overhead and thebushes on either hand, but always keeping near me, apparently as muchexcited at my presence as if I had been a gigantic owl, or some suchunnatural monster. Their increasing numbers and incessant excitedchirping and chattering at first served to amuse, but in the end beganto irritate me. I observed, too, that the alarm was spreading, and thatlarger birds, usually shy of men--pigeons, jays, and magpies, I fanciedthey were--now began to make their appearance. Could it be, thought Iwith some concern, that I had wandered into some uninhabited wilderness, to cause so great a commotion among the little feathered people? I verysoon dismissed this as an idle thought, for one does not find houses, domestic animals, and fruit-trees in desert places. No, it was simplythe inherent cantankerousness of little birds which caused them to annoyme. Looking about on the ground for something to throw at them, I foundin the grass a freshly-fallen walnut, and, breaking the shell, I quicklyate the contents. Never had anything tasted so pleasant to me before!But it had a curious effect on me, for, whereas before eating it I hadnot felt hungry, I now seemed to be famishing, and began excitedlysearching about for more nuts. They were lying everywhere in thegreatest abundance; for, without knowing it, I had been walking througha grove composed in large part of old walnut-trees. Nut after nut waspicked up and eagerly devoured, and I must have eaten four or five dozenbefore my ravenous appetite was thoroughly appeased. During this feast Ihad paid no attention to the birds, but when my hunger was over I beganagain to feel annoyed at their trivial persecutions, and so continued togather the fallen nuts to throw at them. It amused and piqued me at thesame time to see how wide of the mark my missiles went. I could hardlyhave hit a haystack at a distance of ten yards. After half an hour'svigorous practice my right hand began to recover its lost cunning, and Iwas at last greatly delighted when of my nuts went hissing like a bulletthrough the leaves, not further than a yard from the wren, or whateverthe little beggar was, I had aimed at. Their Impertinences did not likethis at all; they began to find out that I was a rather dangerous personto meddle with: their ranks were broken, they became demoralized andscattered, in all directions, and I was finally left master of thefield. 

"Dolt that I am, " I suddenly exclaimed, "to be fooling away my time whenthe nearest railway station or hotel is perhaps twenty miles away. "

I hurried on, but when I got to the end of the grove, on the green swardnear some laurel and juniper bushes, I came on an excavation apparentlyjust made, the loose earth which had been dug out looking quite freshand moist. The hole or foss was narrow, about five feet deep and sevenfeet long, and looked, I imagined, curiously like a grave. A few yardsaway was a pile of dry brushwood, and some faggots bound together withropes of straw, all apparently freshly cut from the neighboring bushes. As I stood there, wondering what these things meant, I happened toglance away in the direction of the house where I intended to call, which was not now visible owing to an intervening grove of tall trees, and was surprised to discover a troop of about fifteen persons advancingalong the valley in my direction. Before them marched a tallwhite-bearded old man; next came eight men, bearing a platform on theirshoulders with some heavy burden resting upon it; and behind thesefollowed the others. I began to think that they were actually carrying acorpse, with the intention of giving it burial in that very pit besidewhich I was standing; and, although it looked most unlike a funeral, forno person in the procession wore black, the thought strengthened to aconviction when I became able to distinguish a recumbent, human-likeform in a shroud-like covering on the platform. It seemed altogether avery unusual proceeding, and made me feel extremely uncomfortable; somuch so that I considered it prudent to step back behind the bushes, where I could watch the doings of the processionists without beingobserved. 

Led by the old man--who carried, suspended by thin chains, a largebronze censer, or brazier rather, which sent out a thin continuouswreath of smoke--they came straight on to the pit; and after depositingtheir burden on the grass, remained standing for some minutes, apparently to rest after their walk, all conversing together, but insubdued tones, so that I could not catch their words, although standingwithin fifteen yards of the grave. The uncoffined corpse, which seemedthat of a full-grown man, was covered with a white cloth, and rested ona thick straw mat, provided with handles along the sides. On thesethings, however, I bestowed but a hasty glance, so profoundly absorbedhad I become in watching the group of living human beings before me; forthey were certainly utterly unlike any fellow-creatures I had everencountered before. The old man was tall and spare, and from hissnowy-white majestic beard I took him to be about seventy years old; buthe was straight as an arrow, and his free movements and elastic treadwere those of a much younger man. His head was adorned with a dark redskull-cap, and he wore a robe covering the whole body and reaching tothe ankles, of a deep yellow or rhubarb color; but his long wide sleevesunder his robe were dark red, embroidered with yellow flowers. The othermen had no covering on their heads, and their luxuriant hair, worn tothe shoulders, was, in most cases, very dark. Their garments were alsomade in a different fashion, and consisted of a kilt-like dress, whichcame half-way to the knees, a pale yellow shirt fitting tight to theskin, and over it a loose sleeveless vest. The entire legs were cased instockings, curious in pattern and color. The women wore garmentsresembling those of the men, but the tight-fitting sleeves reached onlyhalf-way to the elbow, the rest of the arm being bare; and theoutergarment was all in one piece, resembling a long sleeveless jacket, reaching below the hips. The color of their dresses varied, but in mostcases different shades of blue and subdued yellow predominated. In all, the stockings showed deeper and richer shades of color than the othergarments; and in their curiously segmented appearance, and in theharmonious arrangement of the tints, they seemed to represent the skinsof pythons and other beautifully variegated serpents. All wore low shoesof an orange-brown color, fitting closely so as to display the shape ofthe foot. 

From the moment of first seeing them I had had no doubt about the sex ofthe tall old leader of the procession, his shining white beard being asconspicuous at a distance as a shield or a banner; but looking at theothers I was at first puzzled to know whether the party was composed ofmen or women, or of both, so much did they resemble each other inheight, in their smooth faces, and in the length of their hair. On acloser inspection I noticed the difference of dress of the sexes; alsothat the men, if not sterner, had faces at all events less mild and softin expression than the women, and also a slight perceptible down on thecheeks and upper lip. 

After a first hasty survey of the group in general, I had eyes for onlyone person in it--a fine graceful girl about fourteen years old, and theyoungest by far of the party. A description of this girl will give someidea, albeit a very poor one, of the faces and general appearance ofthis strange people I had stumbled on. Her dress, if a garment so briefcan be called a dress, showed a slaty-blue pattern on a straw-coloredground, while her stockings were darker shades of the same colors. Hereyes, at the distance I stood from her, appeared black, or nearly black, but when seen closely they proved to be green--a wonderfully pure, tender sea-green; and the others, I found, had eyes of the same hue. Herhair fell to her shoulders; but it was very wavy or curly, and strayedin small tendril-like tresses over her neck, forehead and cheeks; incolor it was golden black--that is, black in shade, but when touchedwith sunlight every hair became a thread of shining red-gold; and insome lights it looked like raven-black hair powdered with gold-dust. Asto her features, the forehead was broader and lower, the nose larger, and the lips more slender, than in our most beautiful female types. Thecolor was also different, the delicately molded mouth being purple-redinstead of the approved cherry or coral hue; while the complexion was aclear dark, and the color, which mantled the cheeks in moments ofexcitement, was a dim or dusky rather than a rosy red. 

The exquisite form and face of this young girl, from the first moment ofseeing her, produced a very deep impression; and I continued watchingher every movement and gesture with an intense, even a passionateinterest. She had a quantity of flowers in her hand; but these sweetemblems, I observed, were all gayly colored, which seemed strange, forin most places white flowers are used in funeral ceremonies. Some of themen who had followed the body carried in their hands broad, three-cornered bronze shovels, with short black handles, and these theyhad dropped upon the grass on arriving at the grave. Presently the oldman stooped and drew the covering back from the dead one's face--arigid, marble-white face set in a loose mass of black hair. The othersgathered round, and some standing, others kneeling, bent on the stillcountenance before them a long earnest gaze, as if taking an eternalfarewell of one they had deeply loved. At this moment the the beautifulgirl I have described all at once threw herself with a sobbing cry onher knees before the corpse, and, stooping, kissed the face withpassionate grief. "Oh, my beloved, must we now leave you alone forever!"she cried between the sobs that shook her whole frame. "Oh, my love--mylove--my love, will you come back to us no more!"

The others all appeared deeply affected at her grief, and presently ayoung man standing by raised her from the ground and drew her gentlyagainst his side, where for some minutes she continued convulsivelyweeping. Some of the other men now passed ropes through the handles ofthe straw mat on which the corpse rested, and raising it from theplatform lowered it into the foss. Each person in turn then advanced anddropped some flowers into the grave, uttering the one word "Farewell" asthey did so; after which the loose earth was shoveled in with the bronzeimplements. Over the mound the hurdle on which the straw mat had restedwas then placed, the dry brushwood and faggots heaped over it andignited with a coal from the brazier. White smoke and crackling flamesissued anon from the pile, and in a few moments the whole was in afierce blaze. 

Standing around they all waited in silence until the fire had burntitself out; then the old man advancing stretched his arms above thewhite and still smoking ashes and cried in a loud voice: "Farewellforever, O well beloved son! With deep sorrow and tears we have givenyou back to Earth; but not until she has made the sweet grass andflowers grow again on this spot, scorched and made desolate with fire, shall our hearts be healed of their wound and forget their grief. "

Chapter 2

The thrilling, pathetic tone in which these words were uttered affectedme not a little; and when the ceremony was over I continued staringvacantly at the speaker, ignorant of the fact that the beautiful younggirl had her wide-open, startled eyes fixed on the bush which, I vainlyimagined, concealed me from view. 

All at once she cried out: "Oh, father, look there! Who is thatstrange-looking man watching us from behind the bushes?"

They all turned, and then I felt that fourteen or fifteen pairs of verykeen eyes were on me, seeing me very plainly indeed, for in my curiosityand excitement I had come out from the thicker bushes to place myselfbehind a ragged, almost leafless shrub, which afforded the merestapology for a shelter. Putting a bold face on the matter, although I didnot feel very easy, I came out and advanced to them, removing mybattered old hat on the way, and bowing repeatedly to the assembledcompany. My courteous salutation was not returned; but all, withincreasing astonishment pictured on their faces, continued staring at meas if they were looking on some grotesque apparition. Thinking it bestto give an account of myself at once, and to apologize for intruding ontheir mysteries, I addressed myself to the old man:

"I really beg your pardon, " I said, "for having disturbed you at such aninconvenient time, and while you are engaged in these--these solemnrites; but I assure you, sir, it has been quite accidental. I happenedto be walking here when I saw you coming, and thought it best to stepout of the way until--well, until the funeral was over. The fact is, Imet with a serious accident in the mountains over there. I fell downinto a ravine, and a great heap of earth and stones fell on and stunnedme, and I do not know how long I lay there before I recovered my senses. I daresay I am trespassing, but I am a perfect stranger here, and quitelost, and--and perhaps a little confused after my fall, and perhaps youwill kindly tell me where to go to get some refreshment, and find outwhere I am. "

"Your story is a very strange one, " said the old man in reply, after apause of considerable duration. "That you are a perfect stranger in thisplace is evident from your appearance, your uncouth dress, and yourthick speech. "

His words made me blush hotly, although I should not have minded hisvery personal remarks much if that beautiful girl had not been standingthere listening to everything. My _uncouth_ garments, by the way, were made by a fashionable West End tailor, and fitted me perfectly, although just now they were, of course, very dirty. It was also asurprise to hear that I had a _thick speech_, since I had alwaysbeen considered a remarkably clear speaker and good singer, and hadfrequently both sung and recited in public, at amateur entertainments. 

After a distressing interval of silence, during which they all continuedregarding me with unabated curiosity, the old gentleman condescended toaddress me again and asked me my name and country. 

"My country, " said I, with the natural pride of a Briton, "is England, and my name is Smith. "

"No such country is known to me, " he returned; "nor have I ever heardsuch a name as yours. "

I was rather taken aback at his words, and yet did not just then by anymeans realize their full import. I was thinking only about my name; forwithout having penetrated into any perfectly savage country, I had beenabout the world a great deal for a young man, visiting the Colonies, India, Yokohama, and other distant places, and I had never yet been toldthat the name of Smith was an unfamiliar one. 

"I hardly know what to say, " I returned, for he was evidently waitingfor me to add something more to what I had stated. "It rather staggersme to hear that my name-well, you have not heard of _me_, ofcourse, but there have been a great many distinguished men of the samename: Sydney Smith, for instance, and--and several others. " It mortifiedme just then to find that I had forgotten all the other distinguishedSmiths. 

He shook his head, and continued watching my face. 

"Not heard of them!" I exclaimed. "Well, I suppose you have heard ofsome of my great countrymen: Beaconsfield, Gladstone, Darwin, Burne-Jones, Ruskin, Queen Victoria, Tennyson, George Eliot, HerbertSpencer, General Gordon, Lord Randolph Churchill--"

As he continued to shake his head after each name I at length paused. 

"Who are all these people you have named?" he asked. 

"They are all great and illustrious men and women who have a world-widereputation, " I answered. 

"And are there no more of them--have you told me the names of _all_the great people you have ever known or heard of?" he said, with acurious smile. 

"No, indeed, " I answered, nettled at his words and manner. "It wouldtake me until to-morrow to name _all_ the great men I have everheard of. I suppose you have heard the names of Napoleon, Wellington, Nelson, Dante, Luther, Calvin, Bismarck, Voltaire?"

He still shook his head. 

"Well, then, " I continued, "Homer, Socrates, Alexander the Great, Confucius, Zoroaster, Plato, Shakespeare. " Then, growing thoroughlydesperate, I added in a burst: "Noah, Moses, Columbus, Hannibal, Adamand Eve!"

"I am quite sure that I have never heard of any of these names, " heanswered, still with that curious smile. "Nevertheless I can understandyour surprise. It sometimes happens that the mind, owing an an imperfectadjustment of its faculties, resembles the uneducated vision in itsmethod of judgment, regarding the things which are near as great andimportant, and those further away as less important, according to theirdistance. In such a case the individuals one hears about or associateswith, come to be looked upon as the great and illustrious beings of theworld, and all men in all places are expected to be familiar with theirnames. But come, my children, our sorrowful task is over, let us nowreturn to the house. Come with us, Smith, and you shall have therefreshment you require. "

I was, of course, pleased with the invitation, but did not relish beingaddressed as "Smith, " like some mere laborer or other common persontramping about the country. 

The long disconcerting scrutiny I had been subjected to had naturallymade me very uncomfortable, and caused me to drop a little behind theothers as we walked towards the house. The old man, however, still keptat my side; but whether from motives of courtesy, or because he wishedto badger me a little more about my uncouth appearance and defectiveintellect, I was not sure. I was not anxious to continue theconversation, which had not proved very satisfactory; moreover, thebeautiful girl I have already mentioned so frequently, was now walkingjust before me, hand in hand with the young man who had raised her fromthe ground. I was absorbed in admiration of her graceful figure, and--shall I be forgiven for mentioning such a detail?--her exquisitelyrounded legs under her brief and beautiful garments. To my mind thegarment was quite long enough. Every time I spoke, for my companionstill maintained the conversation and I was obliged to reply, she hungback a little to catch my words. At such times she would also turn herpretty head partially round so as to see me: then her glances, beginningat my face, would wander down to my legs, and her lips would twitch andcurl a little, seeming to express disgust and amusement at the sametime. I was beginning to hate my legs, or rather my trousers, for Iconsidered that under them I had as good a pair of calves as any man inthe company. 

Presently I thought of something to say, something very simple, which mydignified old friend would be able to answer without intimating that heconsidered me a wild man of the woods or an escaped lunatic. 

"Can you tell me, " I said pleasantly, "what is the name of your nearesttown or city? how far it is from this place, and how I can get there?"

At this question, or series of questions, the young girl turned quiteround, and, waiting until I was even with her, she continued her walk atmy side, although still holding her companion's hand. 

The old man looked at me with a grave smile--that smile was fastbecoming intolerable--and said: "Are you so fond of honey, Smith? Youshall have as much as you require without disturbing the bees. They arenow taking advantage of this second spring to lay by a sufficientprovision before winter sets in. "

After pondering some time over these enigmatical words, I said: "Idaresay we are at cross purposes again. I mean, " I added hurriedly, seeing the inquiring look on his face, "that we do not exactlyunderstand each other, for the subject of honey was not in my thoughts. "

"What, then, do you mean by a city?" he asked. 

"What do I mean? Why, a city, I take it, is nothing more than acollection or congeries of houses--hundreds and thousands, or hundreds_of_ thousands of houses, all built close together, where one canlive very comfortably for years without seeing a blade of grass. "

"I am afraid, " he returned, "that the accident you met with in themountains must have caused some injury to your brain; for I cannot inany other way account for these strange fantasies. "

"Do you mean seriously to tell me, sir, that you have never even heardof the existence of a city, where millions of human beings live crowdedtogether in a small space? Of course I mean a small space comparatively;for in some cities you might walk all day without getting into thefields; and a city like that might be compared to a beehive so largethat a bee might fly in a straight line all day without getting out ofit. "

It struck me the moment I finished speaking that this comparison was notquite right somehow; but he did not ask me to explain: he had evidentlyceased to pay any attention to what I said. The girl looked at me withan expression of pity, not to say contempt, and I felt at the same timeashamed and vexed. This served to rouse a kind of dogged spirit in me, and I returned to the subject once more. 

"Surely, " I said, "you have heard of such cities as Paris, Vienna, Rome, Athens, Babylon, Jerusalem?"

He only shook his head, and walked on in silence. 

"And London! London is the capital of England. Why, " I exclaimed, beginning to see light, and wondering at myself for not having seen itsooner, "you are at present talking to me in the English language. "

"I fail to understand your meaning, and am even inclined to doubt thatyou have any, " said he, a little ruffled. "I am addressing you in thelanguage of human beings--that is all. "

"Well, it seems awfully puzzling, " said I; "but I hope you don't think Ihave been indulging in--well, tarradiddles. " Then, seeing that I wasmaking matters no clearer, I added: "I mean that I have not been tellinguntruths. "

"I could not think that, " he answered sternly. "It would indeed be aclouded mind which could mistake mere disordered fancies for willfuloffenses against the truth. I have no doubt that when you have recoveredfrom the effects of your late accident these vain thoughts andimaginations will cease to trouble you. "

"And in the meantime, perhaps, I had better say as little as possible, "said I, with considerable temper. "At present we do not seem able tounderstand each other at all. "

"You are right, we do not, " he said; and then added with a grave smile, "although I must allow that this last remark of yours is quiteintelligible. "

"I'm glad of that, " I returned. "It is distressing to talk and not to beunderstood; it is like men calling to each other in a high wind, hearingvoices but not able to distinguish words. "

"Again I understand you, " said he approvingly; while the beautiful girlbestowed on me the coveted reward of a smile, which had no pity orcontempt in it. 

"I think, " I continued, determined to follow up this new train of ideason which I had so luckily stumbled, "that we are not so far apart inmind after all. About some things we stand quite away from each other, like the widely diverging branches of a tree; but, like the branches, wehave a meeting-place, and this is, I fancy, in that part of our naturewhere our feelings are. My accident in the hills has not disarrangedthat part of me, I am sure, and I can give you an instance. A littlewhile ago when I was standing behind the bushes watching you all, I sawthis young lady----"

Here a look of surprise and inquiry from the girl warned me that I wasonce more plunging into obscurity. 

"When I saw _you_, " I continued, somewhat amused at her manner, "cast yourself on the earth to kiss the cold face of one you had lovedin life, I felt the tears of sympathy come to my own eyes. "

"Oh, how strange!" she exclaimed, flashing on me a glance from hergreen, mysterious eyes; and then, to increase my wonder and delight, shedeliberately placed her hand in mine. 

"And yet not strange, " said the old man, by way of comment on her words. 

"It seemed strange to Yoletta that one so unlike us outwardly should beso like us in heart, " remarked the young man at her side. 

There was something about this speech which I did not altogether like, though I could not detect anything like sarcasm in the tone of thespeaker. 

"And yet, " continued the lovely girl, "you never saw him living--neverheard his sweet voice, which still seems to come back to me like amelody from the distance. "

"Was he your father?" I asked. 

The question seemed to surprise her very much. "_He_ is ourfather, " she returned, with a glance at the old gentleman, which seemedstrange, for he certainly looked aged enough to be her great-grandfather. 

He smiled and said: "You forget, my daughter, that I am as little knownto this stranger to our country as all the great and illustriouspersonages he has mentioned are to us. "

At this point I began to lose interest in the conversation. It wasenough for me to feel that I held that precious hand in mine, andpresently I felt tempted to administer a gentle squeeze. She looked atme and smiled, then glanced over my whole person, the survey finishingat my boots, which seemed to have a disagreeable fascination for her. She shivered slightly, and withdrew her hand from mine, and in my heartI cursed those rusty, thick-soled monstrosities in which my feet werecased. However, we were all on a better footing now; and I resolved forthe future to avoid all dangerous topics, historical and geographical, and confine myself to subjects relating to the emotional side of ournatures. 

At the end our way to the house was over a green turf, among great treesas in a park; and as there was no road or path, the first sight of thebuilding seen near, when we emerged from the trees, came as a surprise. There were no gardens, lawns, inclosures or hedges near it, norcultivation of any kind. It was like a wilderness, and the houseproduced the effect of a noble ruin. It was a hilly stone country wheremasses of stone cropped out here and there among the woods and on thegreen slopes, and it appeared that the house had been raised on thenatural foundation of one of these rocks standing a little above theriver that flowed behind it. The stone was gray, tinged with red, andthe whole rock, covering an acre or so of ground, had been worn or hewndown to form a vast platform which stood about a dozen feet above thesurrounding green level. The sloping and buttressed sides of theplatform were clothed with ivy, wild shrubs, and various floweringplants. Broad, shallow steps led up to the house, which was all of thesame material--reddish-gray stone; and the main entrance was beneath alofty portico, the sculptured entablature of which was supported bysixteen huge caryatides, standing on round massive pedestals. Thebuilding was not high as a castle or cathedral; it was a dwelling-place, and had but one floor, and resembled a ruin to my eyes because of theextreme antiquity of its appearance, the weather-worn condition andmassiveness of the sculptured surfaces, and the masses of ancient ivycovering it in places. On the central portion of the building rested agreat dome-shaped roof, resembling ground glass of a pale reddish tint, producing the effect of a cloud resting on the stony summit of a hill. 

I remained standing on the grass about thirty yards from the first stepsafter the others had gone in, all but the old gentleman, who still keptwith me. By-and-by, withdrawing to a stone bench under an oak-tree, hemotioned to me to take a seat by his side. He said nothing, but appearedto be quietly enjoying my undisguised surprise and admiration. 

"A noble mansion!" I remarked at length to my venerable host, feeling, Englishman-like, a sudden great access of respect towards the owner of abig house. Men in such a position can afford to be as eccentric as theylike, even to the wearing of Carnivalesque garments, burying theirfriends or relations in a park, and shaking their heads over such namesas Smith or Shakespeare. "A glorious place! It must have cost a pot ofmoney, and taken a long time to build. "

"What you mean by _a pot of money_ I do not know, " said he. "Whenyou add _a long time to build_, I am also puzzled to understandyou. For are not all houses, like the forest of trees, the human race, the world we live in, eternal?"

"If they stand forever they are so in one sense, I suppose, " I answered, beginning to fear that I had already unfortunately broken the rule I hadso recently laid down for my own guidance. "But the trees of the forest, to which you compare a house, spring from seed, do they not? and so havea beginning. Their end also, like the end of man, is to die and returnto the dust. "

"That is true, " he returned; "it is, moreover, a truth which I do notnow hear for the first time; but it has no connection with the subjectwe are discussing. Men pass away, and others take their places. Treesalso decay, but the forest does not die, or suffer for the loss ofindividual trees; is it not the same with the house and the familyinhabiting it, which is one with the house, and endures forever, albeitthe members composing it must all in time return to the dust?"

"Is there no decay, then, of the materials composing a house?"

"Assuredly there is! Even the hardest stone is worn in time by theelements, or by the footsteps of many generations of men; but the stonethat decays is removed, and the house does not suffer. "

"I have never looked at it quite in this light before, " said I. "Butsurely we can build a house whenever we wish!"

"Build a house whenever we wish!" he repeated, with that astonished lookwhich threatened to become the permanent expression of his face--so longas he had me to talk with, at any rate. 

"Yes, or pull one down if we find it unsuitable--" But his look ofhorror here made me pause, and to finish the sentence I added: "Ofcourse, you must admit that a house had a beginning?"

"Yes; and so had the forest, the mountain, the human race, the worlditself. But the origin of all these things is covered with the mists oftime. "

"Does it never happen, then, that a house, however substantiallybuilt--"

"However what! But never mind; you continue to speak in riddles. Pray, finish what you were saying. "

"Does it never happen that a house is overthrown by some naturalforce--by floods, or subsidence of the earth, or is destroyed bylightning or fire?"

"No!" he answered, with such tremendous emphasis that he almost made mejump from my seat. "Are you alone so ignorant of these things that youspeak of building and of pulling down a house?"

"Well, I fancied I knew a lot of things once, " I answered, with a sigh. "But perhaps I was mistaken--people often are. I should like to hear yousay something more about all these things--I mean about the house andthe family, and the rest of it. "

"Are you not, then, able to read--have you been taught absolutelynothing?"

"Oh yes, certainly I can read, " I answered, joyfully seizing at once onthe suggestion, which seemed to open a simple, pleasant way of escapefrom the difficulty. "I am by no means a studious person; perhaps I amnever so happy as when I have nothing to read. Nevertheless, I dooccasionally look into books, and greatly appreciate their gentle, kindly ways. They never shut themselves up with a sound like a slap, orthrow themselves at your head for a duffer, but seem silently gratefulfor being read, even by a stupid person, and teach you very patiently, like a pretty, meek-spirited young girl. "

"I am very pleased to hear it, " said he. "You shall read and learn allthese things for yourself, which is the best method. Or perhaps I oughtrather to say, you shall by reading recall them to your mind, for it isimpossible to believe that it has always been in its present pitiablecondition. I can only attribute such a mental state, with its disorderedfancies about cities, or immense hives of human beings, and other thingsequally frightful to contemplate, and its absolute vacancy concerningordinary matters of knowledge, to the grave accident you met with in thehills. Doubtless in falling your head was struck and injured by a stone. Let us hope that you will soon recover possession of your memory andother faculties. And now let us repair to the eating-room, for it isbest to refresh the body first, and the mind afterwards. "

Chapter 3

We ascended the steps, and passing through the portico went into thehall by what seemed to me a doorless way. It was not really so, as Idiscovered later; the doors, of which there were several, some ofcolored glass, others of some other material, were simply thrust backinto receptacles within the wall itself, which was five or six feetthick. The hall was the noblest I had ever seen; it had a stone andbronze fireplace some twenty or thirty feet long on one side, andseveral tall arched doorways on the other. The spaces between the doorswere covered with sculpture, its material being a blue-gray stonecombined or inlaid with a yellow metal, the effect being indescribablyrich. The floor was mosaic of many dark colors, but with no definitepattern, and the concave roof was deep red in color. Though beautiful, it was somewhat somber, as the light was not strong. At all events, thatis how it struck me at first on coming in from the bright sunlight. Nor, it appeared, was I alone in experiencing such a feeling. As soon as wewere inside, the old gentleman, removing his cap and passing his thinfingers through his white hair, looked around him, and addressing someof the others, who were bringing in small round tables and placing themabout the hall, said: "No, no; let us sup this evening where we can lookat the sky. "

The tables were immediately taken away. 

Now some of those who were in the hall or who came in with the tableshad not attended the funeral, and these were all astonished on seeingme. They did not stare at me, but I, of course, saw the expression ontheir faces, and noticed that the others who had made my acquaintance atthe grave-side whispered in their ears to explain my presence. This mademe extremely uncomfortable, and it was a relief when they began to goout again. 

One of the men was seated near me; he was of those who had assisted incarrying the corpse, and he now turned to me and remarked: "You havebeen a long time in the open air, and probably feel the change as muchas we do. "

I assented, and he rose and walked away to the far end of the hall, where a great door stood facing the one by which we had entered. Fromthe spot where I was--a distance of forty or fifty feet, perhaps--thisdoor appeared to be of polished slate of a very dark gray, its surfaceornamented with very large horse-chestnut leaves of brass or copper, orboth, for they varied in shade from bright yellow to deepest copper-red. It was a double door with agate handles, and, first pressing on onehandle, then on the other, he thrust it back into the walls on eitherside, revealing a new thing of beauty to my eyes, for behind thevanished door was a window, the sight of which came suddenly before melike a celestial vision. Sunshine, wind, cloud and rain had evidentlyinspired the artist who designed it, but I did not at the timeunderstand the meaning of the symbolic figures appearing in the picture. Below, with loosened dark golden-red hair and amber-colored garmentsfluttering in the wind, stood a graceful female figure on the summit ofa gray rock; over the rock, and as high as her knees, slanted the thinbranches of some mountain shrub, the strong wind even now stripping themof their remaining yellow and russet leaves, whirling them aloft andaway. Round the woman's head was a garland of ivy leaves, and she wasgazing aloft with expectant face, stretching up her arms, as if toimplore or receive some precious gift from the sky. Above, against theslaty-gray cloud-wrack, four exquisite slender girl-forms appeared, withloose hair, silver-gray drapery and gauzy wings as of ephemerae, flyingin pursuit of the cloud. Each carried a quantity of flowers, shaped likelilies, in her dress, held up with the left hand; one carried redlilies, another yellow, the third violet, and the last blue; and thegauzy wings and drapery of each was also touched in places with the samehue as the flowers she carried. Looking back in their flight they wereall with the disengaged hand throwing down lilies to the standingfigure. 

This lovely window gave a fresh charm to the whole apartment, while thesunlight falling through it served also to reveal other beauties which Ihad not observed. One that quickly drew and absorbed my attention was apiece of statuary on the floor at some distance from me, and going to itI stood for some time gazing on it in the greatest delight. It was astatue about one-third the size of life, of a young woman seated on awhite bull with golden horns. She had a graceful figure and beautifulcountenance; the face, arms and feet were alabaster, the flesh tinted, but with colors more delicate than in nature. On her arms were broadgolden armlets, and the drapery, a long flowing robe, was blue, embroidered with yellow flowers. A stringed instrument rested on herknee, and she was represented playing and singing. The bull, withlowered horns, appeared walking; about his chest hung a garland offlowers mingled with ears of yellow corn, oak, ivy, and various otherleaves, green and russet, and acorns and crimson berries. The garlandand blue dress were made of malachite, _lapis lazuli_, and variousprecious stones. 

"Aha, my fair Phoenician, I know you well!" thought I exultingly, "though I never saw you before with a harp in your hand. But were younot gathering flowers, O lovely daughter of Agenor, when that celestialanimal, that masquerading god, put himself so cunningly in your way tobe admired and caressed, until you unsuspiciously placed yourself on hisback? That explains the garland. I shall have a word to say about thispretty thing to my learned and very superior host. "

The statue stood on an octagonal pedestal of a highly polishedslaty-gray stone, and on each of its eight faces was a picture in whichone human figure appeared. Now, from gazing on the statue itself I fellto contemplating one of these pictures with a very keen interest, forthe figure, I recognized, was a portrait of the beautiful girl Yoletta. The picture was a winter landscape. The earth was white, not with snow, but with hoar frost; the distant trees, clothed by the frozen moistureas if with a feathery foliage, looked misty against the whitey-bluewintry sky. In the foreground, on the pale frosted grass, stood thegirl, in a dark maroon dress, with silver embroidery on the bosom, and adark red cap on her head. Close to her drooped the slender terminaltwigs of a tree, sparkling with rime and icicle, and on the twigs wereseveral small snow-white birds, hopping and fluttering down towards heroutstretched hand; while she gazed up at them with flushed cheeks, andlips parting with a bright, joyous smile. 

Presently, while I stood admiring this most lovely work, the young man Ihave mentioned as having raised Yoletta from the ground at the gravecame to my side and remarked, smiling: "You have noticed theresemblance. "

"Yes, indeed, " I returned; "she is painted to the life. "

"This is not Yoletta's portrait, " he replied, "though it is very likeher;" and then, when I looked at him incredulously, he pointed to someletters under the picture, saying: "Do you not see the name and date?"

Finding that I could not read the words, I hazarded the remark that itwas Yoletta's mother, perhaps. 

"This portrait was painted four centuries ago, " he said, with surprisein his accent; and then he turned aside, thinking me, perhaps, a ratherdull and ignorant person. 

I did not want him to go away with that impression, and remarked, pointing to the statue I have spoken of: "I fancy I know very well whothat is--that is Europa. "

"Europa? That is a name I never heard; I doubt that any one in the houseever bore it. " Then, with a half-puzzled smile, he added: "How could youpossibly know unless you were told? No, that is Mistrelde. It wasformerly the custom of the house for the Mother to ride on a white bullat the harvest festival. Mistrelde was the last to observe it. "

"Oh, I see, " I returned lamely, though I didn't see at all. Theindifferent way in which he spoke of _centuries_ in connection withthis brilliant and apparently fresh-painted picture rather took meaback. 

Presently he condescended to say something more. Pointing to the marksor characters which I could not read, he said: "You have seen the nameof Yoletta here, and that and the resemblance misled you. You must knowthat there has always been a Yoletta in this house. This was thedaughter of Mistrelde, the Mother, who died young and left but eightchildren; and when this work was made their portraits were placed on theeight faces of the pedestal. "

"Thanks for telling me, " I said, wondering if it was all true, or only afantastic romance. 

He then motioned me to follow him, and we quitted that room where it hadbeen decided that we were not to sup. 

Chapter 4

We came to a large portico-like place open on three sides to the air, the roof being supported by slender columns. We were now on the oppositeside of the house and looked upon the river, which was not more than acouple of hundred yards from the terrace or platform on which it stood. The ground here sloped rapidly to the banks, and, like that in thefront, was a wilderness with rock and patches of tall fern and thicketsof thorn and bramble, with a few trees of great size. Nor was wild lifewanting in this natural park; some deer were feeding near the bank, while on the water numbers of wild duck and other water-fowl weredisporting themselves, splashing and flapping over the surface anduttering shrill cries. 

The people of the house were already assembled, standing and sitting bythe small tables. There was a lively hum of conversation, which ceasedon my entrance; then those who were sitting stood up and the wholecompany fixed its eyes on me, which was rather disconcerting. 

The old gentleman, standing in the midst of the people, now bent on me along, scrutinizing gaze; he appeared to be waiting for me to speak, and, finding that I remained silent, he finally addressed me with solemnity. "Smith, " he said--and I did not like it--"the meeting with you today wasto me and to all of us a very strange experience: I little thought thatan even stranger one awaited me, that before you break bread in thishouse in which you have found shelter, I should have to remind you thatyou are now in a house. "

"Yes, I know I am, " I said, and then added: "I'm sure, sir, I appreciateyour kindness in bringing me here. "

He had perhaps expected something more or something entirely differentfrom me, as he continued standing with his eyes fixed on me. Then with asigh, and looking round him, he said in a dissatisfied tone: "Mychildren, let us begin, and for the present put out of our minds thismatter which has been troubling us. "

He then motioned me to a seat at his own table, where I was pleased tohave a place since the lovely Yoletta was also there. 

I am not particular about what I eat, as with me good digestion waits onappetite, and so long as I get a bellyful--to use a good old Englishword--I am satisfied. On this particular occasion, with or without apretty girl at the table, I could have consumed a haggis--that greatestabomination ever invented by flesh-eating barbarians--I was sodesperately hungry. It was therefore a disappointment when nothing moresubstantial than a plate of whitey-green, crisp-looking stuff resemblingendive, was placed before me by one of the picturesque handmaidens. Itwas cold and somewhat bitter to the taste, but hunger compelled me toeat it even to the last green leaf; then, when I began to wonder if itwould be right to ask for more, to my great relief other more succulentdishes followed, composed of various vegetables. We also had somepleasant drinks, made, I suppose, from the juices of fruits, but thedelicious alcoholic sting was not in them. We had fruits, too, ofunfamiliar flavors, and a confection of crushed nuts and honey. 

We sat at table--or tables--a long time, and the meal was enlivened withconversation; for all now appeared in a cheerful frame of mind, notwithstanding the melancholy event which had occupied them during theday. It was, in fact, a kind of supper, and the one great meal of theday: the only other meals being a breakfast, and at noon a crust ofbrown bread, a handful of dried fruit, and drink of milk. 

At the conclusion of the repast, during which I had been too muchoccupied to take notice of everything that passed, I observed that anumber of small birds had flown in, and were briskly hopping over thefloor and tables, also perching quite fearlessly on the heads orshoulders of the company, and that they were being fed with thefragments. I took them to be sparrows and things of that kind, but theydid not look altogether familiar to me. One little fellow, most livelyin his motions, was remarkably like my old friend the robin, only thebosom was more vivid, running almost into orange, and the wings and tailwere tipped with the same hue, giving it quite a distinguishedappearance. Another small olive-green bird, which I at first took for agreen linnet, was even prettier, the throat and bosom being of a mostdelicate buff, crossed with a belt of velvet black. The bird that reallyseemed most like a common sparrow was chestnut, with a white throat andmouse-colored wings and tail. These pretty little pensionerssystematically avoided my neighborhood, although I tempted them withcrumbs and fruit; only one flew onto my table, but had no sooner done sothan it darted away again, and out of the room, as if greatly alarmed. Icaught the pretty girl's eye just then, and having finished eating, andbeing anxious to join the conversation, for I hate to sit silent whenothers are talking. I remarked that it was strange the little birds sopersistently avoided me. 

"Oh no, not at all strange, " she replied, with surprising readiness, showing that she too had noticed it. "They are frightened at yourappearance. "

"I must indeed appear strange to them, " said I, with some bitterness, and recalling the adventures of the morning. "It is to me a new and verypainful experience to walk about the world frightening men, cattle, andbirds; yet I suppose it is entirely due to the clothes I am wearing--andthe boots. I wish some kind person would suggest a remedy for this stateof things; for just now my greatest desire is to be dressed inaccordance with the fashion. "

"Allow me to interrupt you for one moment, Smith, " said the oldgentleman, who had been listening attentively to my words. "Weunderstood what you said so well on this occasion that it seems a pityyou should suddenly again render yourself unintelligible. Can youexplain to us what you mean by dressing in accordance with the fashion?"

"My meaning is, that I simply desire to dress like one of yourselves, tosee the last of these _uncouth_ garments. " I could not help puttinga little vicious emphasis on that hateful word. 

He inclined his head and said, "Yes?"

Thus encouraged, I dashed boldly into the middle of matter; for now, having dined, albeit without wine, I was inflamed with an intensecraving to see myself arrayed in their rich, mysterious dress. "Thisbeing so, " I continued, "may I ask you if it is in your power to provideme with the necessary garments, so that I may cease to be an object ofaversion and offense to every living thing and person, myself included?"

A long and uncomfortable silence ensued, which was perhaps not strange, considering the nature of the request. That I had blundered once moreseemed likely enough, from the general suspense and the somewhat alarmedexpression of the old gentleman's countenance; nevertheless, my motiveshad been good: I had expressed my wish in that way for the sake of peaceand quietness, and fearing that if I had asked to be directed to thenearest clothing establishment, a new fit of amazement would have beenthe result. 

Finding the silence intolerable, I at length ventured to remark that Ifeared he had not understood me to the end. 

"Perhaps not, " he answered gravely. "Or, rather let me say, I hope not. "

"May I explain my meaning?" said I, greatly distressed. 

"Assuredly you may, " he replied with dignity. "Only before you speak, let me put this plain question to you: Do you ask us to provide you withgarments--that is to say, to bestow them as a gift on you?"

"Certainly not!" I exclaimed, turning crimson with shame to think thatthey were all taking me for a beggar. "My wish is to obtain them somehowfrom somebody, since I cannot make them for myself, and to give inreturn their full value. "

I had no sooner spoken than I greatly feared that I had made mattersworse; for here was I, a guest in the house, actually offering topurchase clothing--ready-made or to to order--from my host, who, for allI knew, might be one of the aristocracy of the country. My fears, however, proved quite groundless. 

"I am glad to hear your explanation, " he answered, "for it hascompletely removed the unpleasant impression caused by your formerwords. What can you do in return for the garments you are anxious topossess? And here, let me remark, I approve highly of your wish toescape, with the least possible delay, from your present covering. Doyou wish to confine yourself to the finishing of some work in aparticular line--as wood-carving, or stone, metal, clay or glass work;or in making or using colors? or have you only that general knowledge ofthe various arts which would enable you to assist the more skilled inpreparing materials?"

"No, I am not an artist, " I replied, surprised at his question. "All Ican do is to buy the clothes--to pay for them in money. "

"What do you mean by that? What is money?"

"Surely----" I began, but fortunately checked myself in time, for I hadmeant to suggest that he was pulling my leg. But it was really hard tobelieve that a person of his years did not know what money was. Besides, I could not answer the question, having always abhorred the study ofpolitical economy, which tells you all about it; so that I had neverlearned to define money, but only how to spend it. Presently I thoughtthe best way out of the muddle was to show him some, and I accordinglypulled out my big leather book-purse from my breast pocket. It had anancient, musty smell, like everything else about me, but seemed prettyheavy and well-filled, and I proceeded to open it and turn the contentson the table. Eleven bright sovereigns and three half-crowns or florins, I forget which, rolled out; then, unfolding the papers, I discoveredthree five-pound Bank of England notes. 

"Surely this is very little for me to have about me!" said I, feelinggreatly disappointed. "I fancy I must have been making ducks and drakesof a lot of cash before--before--well, before I was--I don't know what, or when, or where. "

Little notice was taken of this somewhat incoherent speech, for all werenow gathering round the table, examining the gold and notes with eagercuriosity. At length the old gentleman, pointing to the gold pieces, said: "What are these?"

"Sovereigns, " I answered, not a little amused. "Have you never seen anylike them before?"

"Never. Let me examine them again. Yes, these eleven are of gold. Theyare all marked alike, on one side with a roughly-executed figure of awoman's head, with the hair gathered on its summit in a kind of ball. There are also other things on them which I do not understand. "

"Can you not read the letters?" I asked. 

"No. The letters--if these marks are letters--are incomprehensible tome. But what have these small pieces of metal to do with the question ofyour garments? You puzzle me. "

"Why, everything. These pieces of metal, as you call them, are money, and represent, of course, so much buying power. I don't know yet whatyour currency is, and whether you have the dollar or the rupee"--here Ipaused, seeing that he did not follow me. "My idea is this, " I resumed, and coming down to very plain speaking: "I can give one of thesefive-pound notes, or its equivalent in gold, if you prefer that--five ofthese sovereigns, I mean--for a suit of clothes such as you all wear. "

So great was my desire to possess the clothes that I was about to doublethe offer, which struck me as poor, and add that I would give tensovereigns; but when I had spoken he dropped the piece he held in hishand upon the table, and stared fixedly at me, assisted by all theothers. Presently, in the profound silence which ensued, a low, silverygurgling became audible, as of some merry mountain burn--a sweet, warbling sound, swelling louder by degrees until it ended in a longringing peal of laughter. 

This was from the girl Yoletta. I stared at her, surprised at herunseasonable levity; but the only effect of my doing so was a generalexplosion, men and women joining in such a tempest of merriment that onemight have imagined they had just heard the most wonderful joke everinvented since man acquired the sense of the ludicrous. 

The old gentleman was the first to recover a decent gravity, although itwas plain to see that he struggled severely at intervals to prevent arelapse. 

"Smith, " said he, "of all the extraordinary delusions you appear to besuffering from, this, that you can have garments to wear in return for asmall piece of paper, or for a few bits of this metal, is the mostastounding! You cannot exchange these trifles for clothes, becauseclothes are the fruit of much labor of many hands. "

"And yet, sir, you said you understood me when I proposed to pay for thethings I require, " said I, in an aggrieved tone. "You seemed even toapprove of the offer I made. How, then, am I to pay for them if all Ipossess is not considered of any value?"

"_All_ you possess!" he replied. "Surely I did not say that! Surelyyou possess the strength and skill common to all men, and can acquireanything you wish by the labor of your hands. "

I began once more to see light, although my skill, I knew, would notcount for much. "Ah yes, " I answered: "to go back to that subject, I donot know anything about wood-carving or using colors, but I might beable to do something--some work of a simpler kind. "

"There are trees to be felled, land to be plowed, and many other thingsto be done. If you will do these things some one else will be releasedto perform works of skill; and as these are the most agreeable to theworker, it would please us more to have you labor in the fields than inthe workhouse. "

"I am strong, " I answered, "and will gladly undertake labor of the kindyou speak of. There is, however, one difficulty. My desire is to changethese clothes for others which will be more pleasing to the eye, atonce; but the work I shall have to do in return will not be finished ina day. Perhaps not in--well, several days. "

"No, of course not, " said he. "A year's labor will be necessary to payfor the garments you require. "

This staggered me; for if the clothes were given to me at the beginning, then before the end of the year they would be worn to rags, and I shouldmake myself a slave for life. I was sorely perplexed in mind, and pulledabout this way and that by the fear of incurring a debt, and the desireto see myself (and to be seen by Yoletta) in those strangely fascinatinggarments. That I had a decent figure, and was not a bad-looking youngfellow, I was pretty sure; and the hope that I should be able to createan impression (favorable, I mean) on the heart of that supremelybeautiful girl was very strong in me. At all events, by closing with theoffer I should have a year of happiness in her society, and a year ofhealthy work in the fields could not hurt me, or interfere much with myprospects. Besides, I was not quite sure that my prospects were reallyworth thinking about just now. Certainly, I had always livedcomfortably, spending money, eating and drinking of the best, anddressing well--that is, according to the London standard. And there wasmy dear old bachelor Uncle Jack--John Smith, Member of Parliament forWormwood Scrubbs. That is to say, ex-Member; for, being a Liberal whenthe great change came at the last general election, he was ignominiouslyousted from his seat, the Scrubbs proving at the finish a bitter placeto him. He was put out in more ways than one, and tried to comforthimself by saying that there would soon be another dissolution--thinkingof his own, possibly, being an old man. I remembered that I had ratherlooked forward to such a contingency, thinking how pleasant it would beto have all that money, and cruise about the world in my own yacht, enjoying myself as I knew how. And really I had some reason to hope. Iremember he used to wind up the talk of an evening when I dined with him(and got a check) by saying: "My boy, you have talents, if you'd onlyuse 'em. " Where were those talents now? Certainly they had not made meshine much during the last few hours. 

Now, all this seemed unsubstantial, and I remembered these things dimly, like a dream or a story told to me in childhood; and sometimes, whenrecalling the past, I seemed to be thinking about ancienthistory--Sesostris, and the Babylonians and Assyrians, and that sort ofthing. And, besides, it would be very hard to get back from a placewhere even the name of London was unknown. And perhaps, if I ever shouldsucceed in getting back, it would only be to encounter a second RogerTichborne case, or to be confronted with the statute of limitations. Anyhow, a year could not make much difference, and I should also keep mymoney, which seemed an advantage, though it wasn't much. I looked up:they were all once more studying the coins and notes, and exchangingremarks about them. 

"If I bind myself to work one year, " said I, "shall I have to wait untilthe end of that time before I get the clothes?"

The reply to this question, I thought, would settle the matter one wayor the other. 

"No, " said he. "It is your wish, and also ours, that you should bedifferently clothed at once, and the garments you require would be madefor you immediately. "

"Then, " said I, taking the desperate plunge, "I should like to have themas soon as possible, and I am ready to commence work at once. "

"You shall commence to-morrow morning, " he answered, smiling at myimpetuosity. "The daughters of the house, whose province it is to makethese things, shall also suspend other work until your garments arefinished. And now, my son, from this evening you are one of the houseand one of us, and the things which we possess you also possess incommon with us. "

I rose and thanked him. He too rose, and, after looking round on us witha fatherly smile, went away to the interior of the house. 

Chapter 5

When he was gone, and Yoletta had followed, leaving some of the othersstill studying those wretched sovereigns, I sat down again and rested mychin on my hand; for I was now thinking--deeply: thinking on the termsof the agreement. "I daresay I have succeeded in making a precious assof myself, " was the mental reflection that occurred to me--one I had notinfrequently made, and, what is more, been justified in making on formeroccasions. Then, remembering that I had come to supper with anextravagant appetite, it struck me that my host, quietly observant, had, when proposing terms, taken into account the quantity of food necessaryfor my sustenance. I regretted too late that I had not exercised morerestraint; but the hungry man does not and cannot consider consequences, else a certain hairy gentleman who figures in ancient history had neverlent himself to that nefarious compact, which gave so great an advantageto a younger but sleek and well-nourished brother. In spite of all this, I felt a secret satisfaction in the thought of the clothes, and it wasalso good to know that the nature of the work I had undertaken would notlower my status in the house. 

Occupied with these reflections, I had failed to observe that thecompany had gradually been drifting away until but one person was leftwith me--the young man who had talked with me before. On his invitationI now rose, put by my money, and followed him. Returning by the hall wewent through a passage and entered a room of vast extent, which in itsform and great length and high arched roof was like the nave of acathedral. And yet how unlike in that something ethereal in its aspect, as of a nave in a cloud cathedral, its far-stretching shining floors andwalls and columns, pure white and pearl-gray, faintly touched withcolors of exquisite delicacy. And over it all was the roof of white orpale gray glass tinged with golden-red--the roof which I had seen fromthe outside when it seemed to me like a cloud resting on the stonysummit of a hill. 

On coming in I had the impression of an empty, silent place; yet theinmates of the house were all there; they were sitting and reclining onlow couches, some lying at their ease on straw mats on the floor; somewere reading, others were occupied with some work in their hands, andsome were conversing, the sound coming to me like a faint murmur from adistance. 

At one side, somewhere about the center of the room, there was a broadraised place, or dais, with a couch on it, on which the father wasreclining at his ease. Beside the couch stood a lectern on which a largevolume rested, and before him there was a brass box or cabinet, andbehind the couch seven polished brass globes were ranged, suspended onaxles resting on bronze frames. These globes varied in size, the largestbeing not less than about twelve feet in circumference. 

I noticed that there were books on a low stand near me. They were allfolios, very much alike in form and thickness; and seeing presently thatthe others were all following their own inclinations, and consideringthat I had been left to my own resources and that it is a good plan whenat Rome to do as the Romans do, I by-and-by ventured to help myself to avolume, which I carried to one of the reading-stands. 

Books are grand things--sometimes, thought I, prepared to follow theadvice I had received, and find out by reading all about the customs ofthis people, especially their ideas concerning _The House_, whichappeared to be an object of almost religious regard with them. Thiswould make me quite independent, and teach me how to avoid blundering inthe future, or giving expression to any more "extraordinary delusions. "On opening the volume I was greatly surprised to find that it was richlyilluminated on every leaf, the middle only of each page being occupiedwith a rather narrow strip of writing; but the minute letters, resembling Hebrew characters, were incomprehensible to me. I bore thedisappointment very cheerfully, I must say, for I am not over-fond ofstudy; and, besides, I could not have paid proper attention to the text, surrounded with all that distracting beauty of graceful design andbrilliant coloring. 

After a while Yoletta came slowly across the room, her fingers engagedwith some kind of wool-work as she walked, and my heart beat fast whenshe paused by my side. 

"You are not reading, " she said, looking curiously at me. "I have beenwatching you for some time. "

"Have you indeed?" said I, not knowing whether to feel flattered or not. "No, unfortunately, I can't read this book, as I do not understand theletters. But what a wonderfully beautiful book it is! I was justthinking what some of the great London book-buyers--Quaritch, forinstance--would be tempted to give for it. Oh, I am forgetting--you havenever heard his name, of course; but--but what a beautiful book it is!"

She said nothing in reply, and only looked a littlesurprised--disgusted, I feared--at my ignorance, then walked away. I hadhoped that she was going to talk to me, and with keen disappointmentwatched her moving across the floor. All the glory seemed now to havegone out of the leaves of the volume, and I continued turning them overlistlessly, glancing at intervals at the beautiful girl, who was alsolike one of the pages before me, wonderful to look at and hard tounderstand. In a distant part of the room I saw her place some cushionson the floor, and settle herself on them to do her work. 

The sun had set by this time, and the interior was growing darker bydegrees; the fading light, however, seemed to make no difference tothose who worked or read. They appeared to be gifted with an owlishvision, able to see with very little light. The father alone didnothing, but still rested on his couch, perhaps indulging in apostprandial nap. At length he roused himself and looked around him. 

"There is no melody in our hearts this evening, my children, " he said. "When another day has passed over us it will perhaps be different. To-night the voice so recently stilled in death forever would be toopainfully missed by all of us. "

Some one then rose and brought a tall wax taper and placed it near him. The flame threw a little brightness on the volume, which he nowproceeded to open; and here and there, further away, it flashed andtrembled in points of rainbow-colored light on a tall column; but thegreater part of the room still remained in twilight obscurity. 

He began to read aloud, and, although he did not seem to raise his voiceabove its usual pitch, the words he uttered fell on my ears with adistinctness and purity of sound which made them seem like a melody"sweetly played in tune. " The words he read related to life and death, and such solemn matters; but to my mind his theology seemed somewhatfantastical, although it is right to confess that I am no judge of suchmatters. There was also a great deal about the _house_, which didnot enlighten me much, being too rhapsodical, and when he spoke aboutour conduct and aims in life, and things of that kind, I understood himlittle better. Here is a part of his discourse:--

"It is natural to grieve for those that die, because light and knowledgeand love and joy are no longer theirs; but they grieve not any more, being now asleep on the lap of the Universal Mother, the bride of theFather, who is with us, sharing our sorrow, which was his first; but itdims not his everlasting brightness; and his desire and our glory isthat we should always and in all things resemble him. 

"The end of every day is darkness, but the Father of life through ourreason has taught us to mitigate the exceeding bitterness of our end;otherwise, we that are above all other creatures in the earth shouldhave been at the last more miserable than they. For in the irrationalworld, between the different kinds, there reigns perpetual strife andbloodshed, the strong devouring the weak and the incapable; and whenfailure of life clouds the brightness of that lower soul, which istheirs, the end is not long delayed. Thus the life that has lasted manydays goes out with a brief pang, and in its going gives new vigor to thestrong that have yet many days to live. Thus also does the ever-livingearth from the dust of dead generations of leaves re-make a freshfoliage, and for herself a new garment. 

"We only, of all things having life, being like the Father, slay not norare slain, and are without enemies in the earth; for even the lowerkinds, which have not reason, know without reason that we are highest onthe earth, and see in us, alone of all his works, the majesty of theFather, and lose all their rage in our presence. Therefore, when thenight is near, when life is a burden and we remember our mortality, wehasten the end, that those we love may cease to sorrow at the sight ofour decline; and we know that this is his will who called us into being, and gave us life and joy on the earth for a season, but not forever. 

"It is better to lay down the life that is ours, to leave allthings--the love of our kindred; the beauty of the world and of thehouse; the labor in which we take delight, to go forth and be no more;but the bitterness endures not, and is scarcely tasted when in our lastmoments we remember that our labor has borne fruit; that the letters wehave written perish not with us, but remain as a testimony and a joy tosucceeding generations, and live in the house forever. 

"For the house is the image of the world, and we that live and labor init are the image of our Father who made the world; and, like him, welabor to make for ourselves a worthy habitation, which shall not shameour teacher. This is his desire; for in all his works, and thatknowledge which is like pure water to one that thirsts, and satisfiesand leaves no taste of bitterness on the palate, we learn the will ofhim that called us into life. All the knowledge we seek, the inventionand skill we possess, and the labor of our hands, has this purpose only:for all knowledge and invention and labor having any other purposewhatsoever is empty and vain in comparison, and unworthy of those thatare made in the image of the Father of life. For just as the bodilysenses may become perverted, and the taste lose its discrimination, sothat the hungry man will devour acrid fruits and poisonous herbs foraliment, so is the mind capable of seeking out new paths, and aknowledge which leads only to misery and destruction. 

"Thus we know that in the past men sought after knowledge of variouskinds, asking not whether it was for good or for evil: but every offenseof the mind and the body has its appropriate reward; and while theirknowledge grew apace, that better knowledge and discrimination which theFather gives to every living soul, both in man and in beast, was takenfrom them. Thus by increasing their riches they were made poorer; and, like one who, forgetting the limits that are set to his faculties, gazessteadfastly on the sun, by seeing much they become afflicted withblindness. But they know not their poverty and blindness, and were notsatisfied; but were like shipwrecked men on a lonely and barren rock inthe midst of the sea, who are consumed with thirst, and drink of nosweet spring, but of the bitter wave, and thirst, and drink again, untilmadness possesses their brains, and death releases them from theirmisery. Thus did they thirst, and drink again, and were crazed; beinginflamed with the desire to learn the secrets of nature, hesitating notto dip their hands in blood, seeking in the living tissues of animalsfor the hidden springs of life. For in their madness they hoped byknowledge to gain absolute dominion over nature, thereby taking from theFather of the world his prerogative. 

"But their vain ambition lasted not, and the end of it was death. Themadness of their minds preyed on their bodies, and worms were bred intheir corrupted flesh: and these, after feeding on their tissues, changed their forms; and becoming winged, flew out in the breath oftheir nostrils, like clouds of winged ants that issue in the springtimefrom their breeding-places; and, flying from body to body, filled therace of men in all places with corruption and decay; and the Mother ofmen was thus avenged of her children for their pride and folly, for theyperished miserably, devoured of worms. 

"Of the human race only a small remnant survived, these being men of anhumble mind, who had lived apart and unknown to their fellows; and afterlong centuries they went forth into the wilderness of earth andrepeopled it; but nowhere did they find any trace or record of thosethat had passed away; for earth had covered all their ruined works withher dark mold and green forests, even as a man hides unsightly scars onhis body with a new and beautiful garment. Nor is it known to us whenthis destruction fell upon the race of men; we only know that thehistory thereof was graven an hundred centuries ago on the granitepillars of the House of Evor, on the plains between the sea and thesnow-covered mountains of Elf. Thither in past ages some of our pilgrimsjourneyed, and have brought a record of these things; nor in our houseonly are they known, but in many houses throughout the world have theybeen written for the instruction of all men and a warning for all time. 

"But to mankind there shall come no second darkness of error, norseeking after vain knowledge; and in the Father's House there shall beno second desolation, but the sounds of joy and melody, which weresilent, shall be heard everlastingly; since we had now continued long inthis even mind, seeking only to inform ourselves of his will; until asin a clear crystal without flaw shining with colored light, or as aglassy lake reflecting within itself the heavens and every cloud andstar, so is he reflected in our minds; and in the house we are hisviceregents, and in the world his co-workers; and for the glory which hehas in his work we have a like glory in ours. 

"He is our teacher. Morning and evening throughout the various world, inthe procession of the seasons, and in the blue heavens powdered withstars; in mountain and plain and many-toned forest; in the soundingwalls of the ocean, and in the billowy seas through which we pass inperil from land to land, we read his thoughts and listen to his voice. Here do we learn with what far-seeing intelligence he has laid thefoundations of his everlasting mansion, how skillfully he has buildedits walls, and with what prodigal richness he has decorated all hisworks. For the sunlight and moonlight and the blueness of heaven arehis; the sea with its tides; the blackness and the lightnings of thetempest, and snow, and changeful winds, and green and yellow leaf; hisare also the silver rain and the rainbow, the shadows and themany-colored mists, which he flings like a mantle over all the world. Herein do we learn that he loves a stable building, and that thefoundations and walls shall endure for ever: yet loves not sameness;thus, from day to day and from season to season do all things changetheir aspect, and the walls and floor and roof of his dwelling arecovered with a new glory. But to us it is not given to rise to thissupreme majesty in our works; therefore do we, like him yet unable toreach so great a height, borrow nothing one from the other, but in eachhouse learn separately from him alone who has infinite riches; so thatevery habitation, changeless and eternal in itself, shall yet differfrom all others, having its own special beauty and splendor: for weinhabit one house only, but the Father of men inhabits all. 

"These things are written for the refreshment and delight of those whomay no longer journey into distant lands; and they are in the library ofthe house in the seven thousand volumes of the Houses of the World whichour pilgrims have visited in past ages. For once in a lifetime is itordained that a man shall leave his own place and travel for the spaceof ten years, visiting the most famous houses in every land he enters, and also seeking out those of which no report has reached us. 

"When the time for this chief adventure comes, and we go forth for along period, there is compensation for every weariness, with absence ofkindred and the sweet shelter of our own home: for now do we learn theinfinite riches of the Father; for just as the day changes every hour, from the morning to the evening twilight, so does the aspect of theworld alter as we progress from day to day; and in all places ourfellow-men, learning as we do from him only, and seeing that which isnearest, give a special color of nature to their lives and their houses;and every house, with the family which inhabits it, in theirconversation and the arts in which they excel, is like a round lake setabout with hills, wherein may be seen that visible world. And in all theearth there is no land without inhabitants, whether on wide continentsor islands of the sea; and in all nature there is no grandeur or beautyor grace which men have not copied; knowing that this is pleasing to theFather: for we, that are made like him, delight not to work withoutwitnesses; and we are his witnesses in the earth, taking pleasure in hisworks, even as he also does in ours. 

"Thus, at the beginning of our journey to the far south, where we go tolook first on those bright lands, which have hotter suns and a greatervariety than ours, we come to the wilderness of Coradine, which seemsbarren and desolate to our sight, accustomed to the deep verdure ofwoods and valleys, and the blue mists of an abundant moisture. There astony soil brings forth only thorns, and thistles, and sere tufts ofgrass; and blustering winds rush over the unsheltered reaches, where therough-haired goats huddle for warmth; and there is no melody save themany-toned voices of the wind and the plover's wild cry. There dwell thechildren of Coradine, on the threshold of the wind-vexed wilderness, where the stupendous columns of green glass uphold the roof of the Houseof Coradine; the ocean's voice is in their rooms, and the inland-blowingwind brings to them the salt spray and yellow sand swept at low tidefrom the desolate floors of the sea, and the white-winged bird flyingfrom the black tempest screams aloud in their shadowy halls. There, fromthe high terraces, when the moon is at its full, we see the children ofCoradine gathered together, arrayed like no others, in shining garmentsof gossamer threads, when, like thistle-down chased by eddying winds, now whirling in a cloud, now scattering far apart, they dance theirmoonlight dances on the wide alabaster floors; and coming and going theypass away, and seem to melt into the moonlight, yet ever to return againwith changeful melody and new measures. And, seeing this, all thosethings in which we ourselves excel seem poor in comparison, becomingpale in our memories. For the winds and waves, and the whiteness andgrace, has been ever with them; and the winged seed of the thistle, andthe flight of the gull, and the storm-vexed sea, flowering in foam, andthe light of the moon on sea and barren land, have taught them this art, and a swiftness and grace which they alone possess. 

"Yet does this moonlight dance, which is the chief glory of the House ofCoradine, grow pale in the mind, and is speedily forgotten, when anotheris seen; and, going on our way from house to house, we learn howeverywhere the various riches of the world have been taken into his soulby man, and made part of his life. Nor are we inferior to others, havingalso an art and chief excellence which is ours only, and the fame ofwhich has long gone forth into the world; so that from many distantlands pilgrims gather yearly to our fields to listen to our harvestmelody, when the sun-ripened fruits have been garnered, and our lips andhands make undying music, to gladden the hearts of those that hear itall their lives long. For then do we rejoice beyond others, rising likebright-winged insects from our lowly state to a higher life of glory andjoy, which is ours for the space of three whole days. Then the augustMother, in a brazen chariot, is drawn from field to field by milk-whitebulls with golden horns; then her children are gathered about her inshining yellow garments, with armlets of gold upon their arms; and withvoice and instruments of forms unknown to the stranger, they make gladthe listening fields with the great harvest melody. 

"In ancient days the children of our house conceived it in their hearts, hearing it in all nature's voices; and it was with them day and night, and they whispered it to one another when it was no louder than thewhisper of the wind in the forest leaves; and as the Builder of theworld brings from an hundred far places the mist, and the dew, and thesunshine, and the light west wind, to give to the morning hour itsfreshness and glory; and as we, his humbler followers, seek far off incaverns of the hills and in the dark bowels of the earth for mineralsand dyes that outshine the flowers and the sun, to beautify the walls ofour house, so everywhere by night and day for long centuries did welisten to all sounds, and made their mystery and melody ours, until thisgreat song was perfected in our hearts, and the fame of it in all landshas caused our house to be called the House of the Harvest Melody; andwhen the yearly pilgrims behold our procession in the fields, and listento our song, all the glory of the world seems to pass before them, overcoming their hearts, until, bursting into tears and loud cries, theycast themselves upon the earth and worship the Father of the wholeworld. 

"This shall be the chief glory of our house for ever; when a thousandyears have gone by, and we that are now living, like those that havebeen, are mingled with the nature we come from, and speak to ourchildren only in the wind's voice, and the cry of the passage-bird, pilgrims shall still come to these sun-bright fields, to rejoice, andworship the Father of the world, and bless the august Mother of thehouse, from whose sacred womb ever comes to it life and love and joy, and the harvest melody that shall endure for ever. "

Chapter 6

The reading went on, not of course "for ever, " like that harvest melodyhe spoke of, but for a considerable time. The words, I concluded, werefor the initiated, and not for me, and after a while I gave up trying tomake out what it was all about. Those last expressions I have quotedabout the "august Mother of the house" were unintelligible, and appearedto me meaningless. I had already come to the conclusion that howevermany of the ladies of the establishment might have experienced thepleasures and pains of maternity, there was really no mother of thehouse in the sense that there was a father of the house: that is to say, one possessing authority over the others and calling them all herchildren indiscriminately. Yet this mysterious non-existent mother ofthe house was continually being spoken of, as I found now and afterwardswhen I listened to the talk around me. After thinking the matter over, Icame to the conclusion that "mother of the house" was merely aconvenient fiction, and simply stood for the general sense of thewomen-folk, or something of the sort. It was perhaps stupid of me, butthe story of Mistrelde, who died young, leaving only eight children, Ihad regarded as a mere legend or fable of antiquity. 

To return to the reading. Just as I had been absorbed before in thatbeautiful book without being able to read it, so now I listened to thatmelodious and majestic voice, experiencing a singular pleasure withoutproperly understanding the sense. I remembered now with a painfulfeeling of inferiority that my _thick_ speech had been remarked Onearlier in the day; and I could not but think that, compared with thespeech of this people, it was thick. In their rare physical beauty, thecolor of their eyes and hair, and in their fascinating dress, they hadstruck me as being utterly unlike any people ever seen by me. But it wasperhaps in their clear, sweet, penetrative voice, which sometimesreminded me of a tender-toned wind instrument, that they most differedfrom others. 

The reading, I have said, had struck me as almost of the nature of areligious service; nevertheless, everything went on as before--reading, working, and occasional conversation; but the subdued talking and movingabout did not interfere with one's pleasure in the old man's musicalspeech any more than the soft murmur and flying about of honey beeswould prevent one from enjoying the singing of a skylark. Emboldened bywhat I saw the others doing, I left my seat and made my way across thefloor to Yoletta's side, stealing through the gloom with great cautionto avoid making a clatter with those abominable boots. 

"May I sit down near you?" said I with some hesitation; but sheencouraged me with a smile and placed a cushion for me. 

I settled myself down in the most graceful position I could assume, which was not at all graceful, doubling my objectionable legs out of hersight; and then began my trouble, for I was greatly perplexed to knowwhat to say to her. I thought of lawn-tennis and archery. Ellen Terry'sacting, the Royal Academy Exhibition, private theatricals, and twentythings besides, but they all seemed unsuitable subjects to startconversation with in this case. There was, I began to fear, no commonground on which we could meet and exchange thoughts, or, at any rate, words. Then I remembered that ground, common and broad enough, of ourhuman feelings, especially the sweet and important feeling of love. Buthow was I to lead up to it? The work she was engaged with at lengthsuggested an opening, and the opportunity to make a pretty littlespeech. 

"Your sight must be as good as your eyes are pretty, " said I, "to enableyou to work in such a dim light. "

"Oh, the light is good enough, " she answered, taking no notice of thecompliment. "Besides, this is such easy work I could do it in the dark. "

"It is very pretty work--may I look at it?"

She handed the stuff to me, but instead of taking it in the ordinaryway, I placed my hand under hers, and, holding up cloth and handtogether, proceeded to give a minute and prolonged scrutiny to her work. 

"Do you know that I am enjoying two distinct pleasures at one and thesame time?" said I. "One is in seeing your work, the other in holdingyour hand; and I think the last pleasure even greater than the first. "As she made no reply, I added somewhat lamely: "May I--keep on holdingit?"

"That would prevent me from working, " she answered, with the utmostgravity. "But you may hold it for a little while. "

"Oh, thank you, " I exclaimed, delighted with the privilege; and then, tomake the most of my precious "little while, " I pressed it warmly, whereupon she cried out aloud: "Oh, Smith, you are squeezing toohard--you hurt my hand!"

I dropped it instantly in the greatest confusion. "Oh, for goodnesssake, " I stammered, "please, do not make such an outcry! You don't knowwhat a hobble you'll get me into. "

Fortunately, no notice was taken of the exclamation, though it was hardto believe that her words had not been overheard; and presently, recovering from my fright, I apologized for hurting her, and hoped shewould forgive me. 

"There is nothing to forgive, " she returned gently. "You did not reallysqueeze hard, only my hand hurts, because to-day when I pressed it onthe ground beside the grave I ran a small thorn into it. " Then theremembrance of that scene at the burial brought a sudden mist of tearsinto her lovely eyes. 

"I am so sorry I hurt you, Yoletta--may I call you Yoletta?" said I, allat once remembering that she had called me Smith, without the customaryprefix. 

"Why, that is my name--what else should you call me?" she returned, evidently with surprise. 

"It is a pretty name, and so sweet on the lips that I should like to berepeating it continually, " I answered. "But it is only right that youshould have a pretty name, because--well, if I may tell you, because youare so very beautiful. "

"Yes; but is that strange--are not all people beautiful?"

I thought of certain London types, especially among the "criminalclasses, " and of the old women with withered, simian faces and wearingshawls, slinking in or out of public-houses at the street corners; andalso of some people of a better class I had known personally--some evenin the House of Commons; and I felt that I could not agree with her, much as I wished to do so, without straining my conscience. 

"At all events, you will allow, " said I, evading the question, "thatthere are _degrees_ of beauty, just as there are degrees of light. You may be able to see to work in this light, but it is very faintcompared with the noonday light when the sun is shining. "

"Oh, there is not so great a difference between people as _that_, "she replied, with the air of a philosopher. "There are different kindsof beauty, I allow, and some people seem more beautiful to us thanothers, but that is only because we love them more. The best loved arealways the most beautiful. "

This seemed to reverse the usual idea, that the more beautiful theperson is the more he or she gets loved. However, I was not going todisagree with her any more, and only said: "How sweetly you talk, Yoletta; you are as wise as you are beautiful. I could wish for nogreater pleasure than to sit here listening to you the whole evening. "

"Ah, then, I am sorry I must leave you now, " she answered, with a brightsmile which made me think that perhaps my little speech had pleased her. 

"Do you wonder why I smile?" she added, as if able to read my thoughts. "It is because I have often heard words like yours from one who iswaiting for me now. "

This speech caused me a jealous pang. But for a few moments afterspeaking, she continued regarding me with that bright, spiritual smileon her lips; then it faded, and her face clouded and her glance fell. Idid not ask her to tell me, nor did I ask myself, the reason of thatchange; and afterwards how often I noticed that same change in her, andin the others too--that sudden silence and clouding of the face, such asmay be seen in one who freely expresses himself to a person who cannothear, and then, all at once but too late, remembers the other'sinfirmity. 

"Must you go?" I only said. "What shall I do alone?". 

"Oh, you shall not be alone, " she replied, and going away returnedpresently with another lady. "This is Edra, " she said simply. "She willtake my place by your side and talk with you. "

I could not tell her that she had taken my words too literally, thatbeing alone simply meant being separated from her; but there was no helpfor it, and some one, alas! some one I greatly hated was waiting forher. I could only thank her and her friend for their kind intentions. But what in the name of goodness was I to say to this beautiful womanwho was sitting by me? She was certainly very beautiful, with a far moremature and perhaps a nobler beauty than Yoletta's, her age being abouttwenty-seven or twenty-eight; but the divine charm in the young girl'sface could, for me, exist in no other. 

Presently she opened the conversation by asking me if I disliked beingalone. 

"Well, no, perhaps not exactly that, " I said; "but I think it muchjollier--much more pleasant, I mean--to have some very nice person totalk to. "

She assented, and, pleased at her ready intelligence, I added: "And itis particularly pleasant when you are understood. But I have no fearthat you, at any rate, will fail to understand anything I may say. "

"You have had some trouble to-day, " she returned, with a charming smile. "I sometimes think that women can understand even more readily thanmen. "

"There's not a doubt of it!" I returned warmly, glad to find that withEdra it was all plain sailing. "It must be patent to every one thatwomen have far quicker, finer intellects than men, although their brainsare smaller; but then quality is more important than mere quantity. Andyet, " I continued, "some people hold that women ought not to have thefranchise, or suffrage, or whatever it is! Not that I care two strawsabout the question myself, and I only hope they'll never get it; butthen I think it is so illogical--don't you?"

"I am afraid I do not understand you, Smith, " she returned, looking muchdistressed. 

"Well, no, I suppose not, but what I said was of no consequence, " Ireplied; then, wishing to make a fresh start, I added: "But I am so gladto hear you call me Smith. It makes it so much more pleasant andhomelike to be treated without formality. It is very kind of you, I'msure. "

"But surely your name is Smith?" said she, looking very much surprised. 

"Oh yes, my name is Smith: only of course--well, the tact is, I was justwondering what to call you. "

"My name is Edra, " she replied, looking more bewildered than ever; andfrom that moment the conversation, which had begun so favorably, wasnothing but a series of entanglements, from which I could only escape ineach case by breaking the threads of the subject under discussion, andintroducing a new one. 

Chapter 7

The moment of retiring, to which I had been looking forward withconsiderable interest as one likely to bring fresh surprises, arrived atlast: it brought only extreme discomfort. I was conducted (without aflat candlestick) along an obscure passage; then, at right angles withthe first, a second broader, lighter passage, leading past a great manydoors placed near together. These, I ascertained later, were thedormitories, or sleeping-cells, and were placed side by side in a rowopening on the terrace at the back of the house. Having reached the doorof my box, my conductor pushed back the sliding-panel, and when I hadgroped my way to the dark interior, closed it again behind me. There wasno light for me except the light of the stars; for directly opposite thedoor by which I had entered stood another, open wide to the night, whichwas apparently not intended ever to be closed. The prospect was the oneI had already seen--the wilderness sloping to the river, and the glassysurface of the broad water, reflecting the stars, and the black massesof large trees. There was no sound save the hooting of an owl in thedistance, and the wailing note of some mournful-minded water-fowl. Thenight air blew in cold and moist, which made my bones ache, though theywere not broken; and feeling very sleepy and miserable, I groped aboutuntil I Was rewarded by discovering a narrow bed, or cot oftrellis-work, on which was a hard straw pallet and a small straw pillow;also, folded small, a kind of woolen sleeping garment. Too tired to keepout of even such an uninviting bed, I flung off my clothes, and with mymoldy tweeds for only covering I laid me down, but not to sleep. Themisery of it! for although my body was warm--too warm, in fact--the windblew on my face and bare feet and legs, and made it impossible to sleep. 

About midnight, I was just falling into a doze when a sound as of aperson coming with a series of jumps into the room disturbed me; andstarting up I was horrified to see, sitting on the floor, a great beastmuch too big for a dog, with large, erect ears. He was intently watchingme, his round eyes shining like a pair of green phosphorescent globes. Having no weapon, I was at the brute's mercy, and was about to utter aloud shout to summon assistance, but as he sat so still I refrained, andbegan even to hope that he would go quietly away. Then he stood up, wentback to the door and sniffed audibly at it; and thinking that he wasabout to relieve me of his unwelcome presence, I dropped my head on thepillow and lay perfectly still. Then he turned and glared at me again, and finally, advancing deliberately to my side, sniffed at my face. Itwas all over with me now, I thought, and closing my eyes, and feeling myforehead growing remarkably moist in spite of the cold, I murmured alittle prayer. When I looked again the brute had vanished, to myinexpressible relief. 

It seemed very astonishing that an animal like a wolf should come intothe house; but I soon remembered that I had seen no dogs about, so thatall kinds of savage, prowling beasts could come in with impunity. It wasgetting beyond a joke: but then all this seemed only a fit ending to theperfectly absurd arrangement into which I had been induced to enter. "Goodness gracious!" I exclaimed, sitting bolt upright on my straw bed, "am I a rational being or an inebriated donkey, or what, to haveconsented to such a proposal? It is clear that I was not quite in myright mind when I made the agreement, and I am therefore not morallybound to observe it. What! be a field laborer, a hewer of wood anddrawer of water, and sleep on a miserable straw mat in an open porch, with wolves for visitors at all hours of the night, and all for a fewbarbarous rags! I don't know much about plowing and that sort of thing, but I suppose any able-bodied man can earn a pound a week, and thatwould be fifty-two pounds for a suit of clothes. Who ever heard of sucha thing! Wolves and all thrown in for nothing! I daresay I shall have atiger dropping in presently just to have a look round. No, no, myvenerable friend, that was all excellent acting about my extraordinarydelusions, and the rest of it, but I am not going to be carried so farby them as to adhere to such an outrageously one-sided bargain. "

Presently I remembered two things--divine Yoletta was the first; and thesecond was that thought of the rare pleasure it would be to array myselfin those same "barbarous rags, " as I had blasphemously called them. These things had entered into my soul, and had become a part ofme--especially--well, both. Those strange garments had looked sorefreshingly picturesque, and I had conceived such an intense longing towear them! Was it a very contemptible ambition on my part? Is it sinfulto wish for any adornments other than wisdom and sobriety, a meek andloving spirit, good works, and other things of the kind? Straight intomy brain flashed the words of a sentence I had recently read--that is tosay, just before my accident--in a biological work, and it comforted meas much as if an angel with shining face and rainbow-colored wings hadpaid me a visit in my dusky cell: "Unto Adam also, and his wife, did theLord God make coats of skin and clothed them. This has become, as everyone knows, a custom among the race of men, and shows at present no signof becoming obsolete. Moreover, that first correlation, namely, milk-glands and a hairy covering, appears to have entered the very soulof creatures of this class, and to have become psychical as well asphysical, for in that type, which is only _for a while_ inferior tothe angels, the fondness for this kind of outer covering is a strong, ineradicable passion!" Most true and noble words, O biologist of thefiery soul! It was a delight to remember them. A "strong andineradicable passion, " not merely to clothe the body, but to clothe itappropriately, that is to say, beautifully, and by so doing please Godand ourselves. This being so, must we go on for ever scraping our faceswith a sharp iron, until they are blue and spotty with manifoldscrapings; and cropping our hair short to give ourselves an artificialresemblance to old dogs and monkeys--creatures lower than us in thescale of being--and array our bodies, like mutes at a funeral, inrepulsive black--we, "Eutheria of the Eutheria, the noble of the noble?"And all for what, since it pleases not heaven nor accords with our owndesires? For the sake of respectability, perhaps, whatever that maymean. Oh, then, a million curses take it--respectability, I mean; may itsink into the bottomless pit, and the smoke of its torment ascend forever and ever! And having thus, by taking thought, brought my mind intothis temper, I once more finally determined to have the clothes, andreligiously to observe the compact. 

It made me quite happy to end it in this way. The hard bed, the coldnight wind blowing on me, my wolfish visitor, were all forgotten. Oncemore I gave loose to my imagination, and saw myself (clothed and in myright mind) sitting at Yoletta's feet, learning the mystery of thatsweet, tranquil life from her precious lips. A whole year was mine inwhich to love her and win her gentle heart. But her hand--ah, that wasanother matter. What had I to give in return for such a boon as that?Only that strength concerning which my venerable host had spokensomewhat encouragingly. He had also been so good as to mention my skill;but I could scarcely trade on that. And if a whole year's labor was onlysufficient to pay for a suit of clothing, how many years of toil wouldbe required to win Yoletta's hand?

Naturally, at this juncture, I began to draw a parallel between my caseand that of an ancient historical personage, whose name is familiar tomost. History repeats itself--with variations. Jacob--namely, Smith--cometh to the well of Haran. He taketh acquaintance of Rachel, here called Yoletta. And Jacob kissed Rachel, and lifted up his voiceand wept. That is a touch of nature I can thoroughly appreciate--thekissing, I mean; but why he wept I cannot tell, unless it be because hewas not an Englishman. And Jacob told Rachel that he was her father'sbrother. I am glad to have no such startling piece of information togive to the object of my affections: we are not even distant relations, and her age being, say, fifteen, and mine twenty-one, we are so far wellsuited to each other, according to my notions. Smith covenanted! forYoletta, and said: "I will serve thee seven years for Yoletta, thyyounger daughter"; and the old gentleman answered: "Abide with me, for Iwould rather you should have her than some other person. " Now I wonderwhether the matter will be complicated with Leah--that is, Edra? Leahwas considerably older than Rachel, and, like Edra, tender-eyed. I donot aspire or desire to marry both, especially if I should, like Jacob, have to begin with the wrong one, however tender-eyed: but for divineYoletta I could serve seven years; yea, and fourteen, if it comes to it. 

Thus I mused, and thus I questioned, tossing and turning on myinhospitable hard bed, until merciful sleep laid her quieting hands onthe strings of my brain, and hushed their weary jangling. 

Chapter 8

Fortunately I woke early next morning, for I was now a member of anearly-rising family, and anxious to conform to rules. On going to thedoor I found, to my inexpressible disgust, that I might easily haveclosed it in the way I had seen the other door closed, by simply pullinga sliding panel. There was ventilation enough without having the placeopen to prowling beasts of prey. I also found that if I had turned upthe little stray bed I should have had warm woolen sheets to sleep in. 

I resolved to say nothing about my nocturnal visitor, not wishing tobegin the day by furnishing fresh instances of what might seem likecrass stupidity on my part. While occupied with these matters I began tohear people moving about and talking on the terrace, and peeping out, Ibeheld a curious and interesting spectacle. Down the broad steps leadingto the water the people of the house were hurrying, and flingingthemselves like agile, startled frogs on the bosom of the stream. There, in the midst of his family, my venerable host was already disportinghimself, his long, silvery beard and hair floating like a foam on thewaves of his own creating. And presently from other sleeping-rooms on aline with mine shot forth new bewitching forms, each sparsely clothed ina slender clinging garment, which concealed no beauteous curve beneath;and nimbly running and leaping down the slope, they quickly joined themasculine bathers. 

Looking about I soon found a pretty thing in which to array myself, andquickly started after the others, risking my neck in my desire toimitate the new mode of motion I had just witnessed. The water wasdelightfully cool and refreshing, and the company very agreeable, ladiesand gentlemen all swimming and diving about together with theunconventional freedom and grace of a company of grebes. 

After dressing, we assembled in the eating-room or portico where we hadsupped, just when the red disk of the sun was showing itself above thehorizon, kindling the clouds with yellow flame, and filling the greenworld with new light. I felt happy and strong that morning, very ableand willing to work in the fields, and, better than all, very hopefulabout that affair of the heart. Happiness, however, is seldom perfect, and in the clear, tender morning light I could not help contrasting myown repulsively ugly garments with the bright and beautiful costumesworn by the others, which seemed to harmonize so well with their fresh, happy morning mood. I also missed the fragrant cup of coffee, thestreaky rasher from the dear familiar pig, and, after breakfast, thewell-flavored cigar; but these lesser drawbacks were soon forgotten. 

After the meal a small closed basket was handed to me, and one of theyoung men led me out to a little distance from the house, then, pointingto a belt of wood about a mile away, told me to walk towards it until Icame to a plowed field on the slope of a valley, where I could do someplowing. Before leaving me he took from his own person a metaldog-whistle, with a string attached, and hung it round my neck, butwithout explaining its use. 

Basket in hand I went away, over the dewy grass, whistlinglight-heartedly, and after half an hour's walk found the spot indicated, where about an acre and a half of land had been recently turned; therealso, lying in the furrow, I found the plow, an implement I knew verylittle about. This particular plow, however, appeared to be a simple, primitive thing, consisting of a long beam of wood, with an upright poleto guide it; a metal share in the center, going off to one side, balanced on the other by a couple of small wheels; and there were alsosome long ropes attached to a cross-stick at the end of the beam. Therebeing no horses or bullocks to do the work, and being unable to draw theplow myself as well as guide it, I sat down leisurely to examine thecontents of my basket, which, I found, consisted of brown bread, driedfruit, and a stone bottle of milk. Then, not knowing what else to do, Ibegan to amuse myself by blowing on the whistle, and emitted a mostshrill and piercing sound, which very soon produced an unexpectedeffect. Two noble-looking horses, resembling those I had seen the daybefore, came galloping towards me as if in response to the sound I hadmade. Approaching swiftly to within fifty yards they stood still, staring and snorting as if alarmed or astonished, after which they sweptround me three or four times, neighing in a sharp, ringing manner, andfinally, after having exhausted their superfluous energy, they walked tothe plow and placed themselves deliberately before it. It looked as ifthese animals had come at my call to do the work; I therefore approachedthem, with more than needful caution, using many soothing, conciliatorysounds and words the while, and after a little further study Idiscovered how to adjust the ropes to them. There were no blinkers orreins, nor did these superb animals seem to think any were wanted; butafter I had taken the pole in my hand, and said "Gee up, Dobbin, " in atone of command, followed by some inarticulate clicks with the tongue, they rewarded me with a disconcerting stare, and then began dragging theplow. As long as I held the pole straight the share cut its way evenlythrough the mold, but occasionally, owing to my inadvertence, it wouldgo off at a tangent or curve quite out of the ground; and whenever thishappened the horses would stop, turn round and stare at me, then, touching their noses together seem to exchange ideas on the subject. When the first furrow was finished, they did not double back, as Iexpected, but went straight away to a distance of thirty yards, andthen, turning, marched back, cutting a fresh furrow parallel with thefirst, and as straight as a line. Then they returned to the originalstarting-point and cut another, then again to the new furrow, and so onprogressively. All this seemed very wonderful to me, giving theimpression that I had been a skillful plowman all my life withoutknowing it. It was interesting work; and I was also amused to see thelittle birds that came in numbers from the wood to devour the worms inthe fresh-turned mold; for between their fear of me and their desire toget the worms, they were in a highly perplexed state, and generallyconfined their operations to one end of the furrow while I was away atthe other. The space the horses had marked out for themselves was plowedup in due time, whereupon they marched off and made a fresh furrow asbefore, where there was nothing to guide them; and so the work went onagreeably for some hours, until I felt myself growing desperatelyhungry. Sitting down on the beam of the plow, I opened my basket anddiscussed the homely fare with a keen appetite. 

After finishing the food I resumed work again, but not as cheerfully asat first: I began to feel a little stiff and tired, and the immensequantity of mold adhering to my boots made it heavy walking; moreover, the novelty had now worn off. The horses also did not work as smoothlyas at the commencement: they seemed to have something on their minds, for at the end of every furrow they would turn and stare at me in themost exasperating manner. 

"Phew!" I ejaculated, as I stood wiping the honest sweat from my facewith my moldy, ancient, and extremely dirty pocket-handkerchief. "Threehundred and sixty-four days of this sort of thing is a rather long priceto pay for a suit of clothes. "

While standing there, I saw an animal coming swiftly towards me from thedirection of the forest, bounding along over the earth with a speed likethat of a greyhound--a huge, fierce-looking brute; and when close to me, I felt convinced that it was an animal of the same kind as the one I hadseen during the night. Before I had made up my mind what to do, he waswithin a few yards of me, and then, coming to a sudden halt, he sat downon his haunches, and gravely watched me. Calling to mind some things Ihad heard about the terrifying effect of the human eye on royal tigersand other savage beasts, I gazed steadily at him, and then almost lostmy fear in admiration of his beauty. He was taller than a boarhound, butslender in figure, with keen, fox-like features, and very large, erectears; his coat was silvery-gray, and long; there were two black spotsabove his eyes; and the feet, muzzle, ear-tips, and end of the bushytail were also velvet-black. After watching me quietly for two or threeminutes, he started up, and, much to my relief, trotted away towards thewood; but after going about fifty yards he looked back, and seeing mestill gazing after him, wheeled round and rushed at me, and when quiteclose uttered a sound like a ringing, metallic yelp, after which he oncemore bounded away, and disappeared from sight. 

The horses now turned round, and, deliberately walking up to me, stoodstill, in spite of all I could do to make them continue the work. Afterwaiting a while they proceeded to wriggle themselves out of the ropes, and galloped off, loudly neighing to each other, and flinging up theirdisdainful heels so as to send a shower of dirt over me. Left alone inthis unceremonious fashion, I presently began to think that they knewmore about the work than I did, and that, finding me indisposed torelease them at the proper moment, they had taken the matter into theirown hands, or hoofs rather. A little more pondering, and I also came tothe conclusion that the singular wolf-like animal was only one of thehouse-dogs; that he had visited me in the night to remind me that I wassleeping with the door open, and had come now to insist on a suspensionof work. 

Glad at having discovered all these things without displaying myignorance by asking questions, I took up my basket and started home. 

Chapter 9

When I arrived at the house I was met by the young man who had set methe morning's task; but he was taciturn now, and wore a cold, estrangedlook, which seemed to portend trouble. He at once led me to a part ofthe house at a distance from the hall, and into a large apartment I nowsaw for the first time. In a few moments the master of the house, followed by most of the other inmates, also entered, and on the faces ofall of them I noticed the same cold, offended look. 

"The dickens take my luck!" said I to myself, beginning to feelextremely uncomfortable. "I suppose I have offended against the laws andcustoms by working the horses too long. "

"Smith, " said the old man, advancing to the table, and depositingthereon a large volume he had brought with him, "come here, and read tome in this book. "

Advancing to the table, I saw that it was written in the same minute, Hebrew-like characters of the folio I had examined on the previousevening. "I cannot read it; I do not understand the letters, " I said, feeling some shame at having thus publicly to confess my ignorance. 

"Then, " said he, bending on me a look of the utmost severity, "there isindeed little more to be said. Nevertheless, we take into account theconfused state of your intellect yesterday, and judge you leniently; andlet us hope that the pangs of an outraged conscience will be morepainful to you than the light punishment I am about to inflict for sodestestable a crime. "

I now concluded that I had offended by squeezing Yoletta's hand, and hadbeen told to read from the book merely to make myself acquainted withthe pains and penalties attendant on such an indiscretion, for to callit a "detestable crime" seemed to me a very great abuse of language. 

"If I have offended, " was my answer, delivered with little humility, "Ican only plead my ignorance of the customs of the house. "

"No man, " he returned, with increased severity, "is so ignorant as notto know right from wrong. Had the matter come to my knowledge sooner, Ishould have said: Depart from us, for your continued presence in thehouse offends us; but we have made a compact with you, and, until theyear expires, we must suffer you. For the space of sixty days you mustdwell apart from us, never leaving the room, where each day a task willbe assigned to you, and subsisting on bread and water only. Let us hopethat in this period of solitude and silence you will sufficiently repentyour crime, and rejoin us afterwards with a changed heart; for alloffenses may be forgiven a man, but it is impossible to forgive a lie. "

"A lie!" I exclaimed in amazement. "I have told no lie!"

"This, " said he, with an access of wrath, "is an aggravation of yourformer offense. It is even a worse offense than the first, and must bedealt with separately--when the sixty days have expired. "

"Are you, then, going to condemn me without hearing me speak, or tellingme anything about it? What lie have I told?"

After a pause, during which he closely scrutinized my face, he said, pointing to the open page before him: "Yesterday, in answer to myquestion, you told me that you could read. Last evening you made acontrary statement to Yoletta; and now here is the book, and you confessthat you cannot read it. "

"But that is easily explained, " said I, immensely relieved, for Icertainly had felt a little guilty about the hand-squeezing performance, although it was not a very serious matter. "I can read the books of myown country, and naturally concluded that your books were written in thesame kind of letters; but last evening I discovered that it was not so. You have already seen the letters of my country on the coins I showedyou last evening. "

And here I again pulled out my pocket-book, and emptied the contents onthe table. 

He began to pick up the sovereigns one by one to examine them. Meanwhile, finding my beautiful black and gold stylograph pen insertedin the book, I thought I could not do better than to show him how Iwrote. Fortunately, the fluid in it had not become dry. Tearing a blankpage from my book I hastily scribbled a few lines, and handed the paperto him, saying: "This is how I write. "

He began studying the paper, but his eyes, I perceived, wandered oftento the stylograph pen in my hand. 

Presently he remarked: "This writing, or these marks you have made onthe paper, are not the same as the letters on the gold. "

I took the paper and proceeded to copy the sentence I had written, butin printing letters, beneath it, then returned it to him. 

He examined it again, and, after comparing my letters with those on thesovereigns, said: "Pray tell me, now, what you have written here, andexplain why you write in two different ways?"

I told him, as well as I could, why letters of one form were used tostamp on gold and other substances, and of a different form for writing. Then, with a modest blush, I read the words of the sentence: "Indifferent parts of the world men have different customs, and writedifferent letters; but alike to all men in all places, a lie ishateful. "

"Smith, " he said, addressing me in an impressive manner, but happily notto charge me with a third and bigger lie, "I have lived long in theworld, and the knowledge others possess concerning it is mine also. Itis common knowledge that in the hotter and colder regions men arecompelled to live differently, owing to the conditions they are placedin; but we know that everywhere they have the same law of right andwrong inscribed on the heart, and, as you have said, hate a lie; alsothat they all speak the same language; and until this moment I alsobelieved that they wrote in similar characters. You, however, have nowsucceeded in convincing me that this is not the case; that in someobscure valley, cut off from all intercourse by inaccessible mountains, or in some small, unknown island of the sea, a people may exist--ah, didyou not tell me that you came from an island?"

"Yes, my home was on an island, " I answered. 

"So I imagined. An island of which no report has ever reached us, wherethe people, isolated from their fellows, have in the course of manycenturies changed their customs--even their manner of writing. AlthoughI had seen these gold pieces I did not understand, or did not realize, that such a human family existed: now I am persuaded of it, and as Ialone am to blame for having brought this charge against you, I must nowask your forgiveness. We rejoice at your innocence, and hope withincreased love to atone for our injustice. My son, " he concluded, placing a hand on my shoulder, "I am now deeply in your debt. "

"I am glad it has ended so happily, " I replied, wondering whether hisbeing in my debt would increase my chances with Yoletta or not. 

Seeing him again directing curious glances at the stylograph, which Iwas turning about in my fingers, I offered it to him. 

He examined it with interest. 

"I have only been waiting for an opportunity, " he said, "to look closelyat this wonderful contrivance, for I had perceived that your writing wasnot made with a pencil, but with a fluid. It is black polished stone, beautifully fashioned and encircled with gold bands, and contains thewriting-fluid within itself. This surprises me as much as anything youhave told me. "

"Allow me to make you a present of it, " said I, seeing him so taken withit. 

"No, not so, " he returned. "But I should greatly like to possess it, andwill keep it if I may bestow in return something you desire. "

Yoletta's hand was really the only thing in life I desired, but it wastoo early to speak yet, as I knew nothing about their matrimonialusages--not even whether or not the lady's consent was necessary to acompact of the kind. I therefore made a more modest request. "There isone thing I greatly desire, " I said. "I am very anxious to be able toread in your books, and shall consider myself more than compensated ifyou will permit Yoletta to teach me. "

"She shall teach you in any case, my son, " he returned. "That, and muchmore, is already owning to you. "

"There is nothing else I desire, " said I. "Pray keep the pen and make mehappy. "

And thus ended a disagreeable matter. 

The cloud having blown over, we all repaired to the supper-room, andnothing could exceed our happiness as we sat at meat--or vegetables. Notfeeling so ravenously hungry as on the previous evening, and, moreover, seeing them all in so lively a mood, I did not hesitate to join in theconversation: nor did I succeed so very badly, considering thestrangeness of it all; for like the bee that has been much hindered athis flowery work by geometric webs, I began to acquire some skill inpushing my way gracefully through the tangling meshes of thought andphrases that were new to me. 

The afternoon's experiences had certainly been remarkable--a strangemixture of pain and pleasure, not blending into homogeneous gray, butresembling rather a bright embroidery on a dark, somber ground; and ofthese surprising contrasts I was destined to have more that sameevening. 

We were again assembled in the great room, the venerable fatherreclining at his ease on his throne-like couch near the brass globes, while the others pursued their various occupations as on the formerevening. Not being able to get near Yoletta, and having nothing to do, Isettled myself comfortably in one of the spacious seats, and gave up mymind to pleasant dreams. At length, to my surprise, the father, who hadbeen regarding me for some time, said: "Will you lead, my son?"

I started up, turning very red in the face, for I did not wish totrouble him with questions, yet was at a loss to know what he meant byleading. I thought of several things--whist, evening prayers, dancing, etc. ; but being still in doubt, I was compelled to ask him to explain. 

"Will you lead the singing?" he returned, looking a little surprised. 

"Oh yes, with pleasure, " said I. There being no music about, and nopiano, I concluded naturally that my friends amused themselves with solosongs without accompaniment of an evening, and having a good tenor voiceI was not unwilling to lead off with a song. Clearing my rusty throatwith a _ghrr-ghrr-hram_ which made them all jump, I launched forthwith the "Vicar of Bray"--a grand old song and a great favorite of mine. They all started when I commenced, exchanging glances, and castingastonished looks towards me; but it was getting so dusky in the roomthat I could not feel sure that my eyes were not deceiving me. Presentlysome that were near me began retiring to distant seats, and thisdistressed me so that it made me hoarse, and my singing became very badindeed; but still I thought it best to go bravely on to the end. Suddenly the old gentleman, who had been staring wildly at me for sometime, drew up his long yellow robe and wrapped it round his face andhead. I glanced at Yoletta, sitting at some distance, and saw that shewas holding her hands pressed to her ears. 

I thought it about time to leave off then, and stopping abruptly in themiddle of the fourth stanza I sat down, feeling extremely hot anduncomfortable. I was almost choking, and unable to utter a word. Butthere was no word for me to utter: it was, of course, for them to thankme for singing, or to say something; but not a word was spoken. Yolettadropped her hands and resumed her work, while the old man slowly emergedwith a somewhat frightened look from the wrappings; and then the longdead silence becoming unendurable, I remarked that I feared my singingwas not to their taste. No reply was made; only the father, putting outone of his hands, touched a handle or key near him, whereupon one of thebrass globes began slowly revolving. A low murmur of sound arose, andseemed to pass like a wave through the room, dying away in the distance, soon to be succeeded by another, and then another, each marked by anincrease of power; and often as this solemn sound died away, faintflute-like notes were heard as if approaching, but still at a greatdistance, and in the ensuing wave of sound from the great globes theywould cease to be distinguishable. Still the mysterious coming soundscontinued at intervals to grow louder and clearer, joined by other tonesas they progressed, now altogether bursting out in joyous chorus, thenone purest liquid note soaring bird-like alone, but whether from voicesor wind-instruments I was unable to tell, until the whole air about mewas filled and palpitating with the strange, exquisite harmony, whichpassed onwards, the tones growing fewer and fainter by degrees untilthey almost died out of hearing in the opposite direction. That all werenow taking part in the performance I became convinced by watching inturn different individuals, some of them having small, curiously-shapedinstruments in their hands, but there was a blending of voices and asomething like ventriloquism in the tones which made it impossible todistinguish the notes of any one person. Deeper, more sonorous tones nowissued from the revolving globes, sometimes resembling in character thevox humana of an organ, and every time they rose to a certain pitchthere were responsive sounds--not certainly from any of theperformers--low, tremulous, and Aeolian in character, wandering over theentire room, as if walls and ceiling were honey-combed with sensitivemusical cells, answering to the deeper vibrations. These floating aerialsounds also answered to the higher notes of some of the female singers, resembling soprano voices, brightened and spiritualized in a wonderfuldegree; and then the wide room would be filled with a mist, as it were, of this floating, formless melody, which seemed to come from invisibleharpers hovering in the shadows above. 

Lying back on my couch, listening with closed eyes to this mysterious, soul-stirring concert, I was affected to tears, and almost feared that Ihad been snatched away into some supra-mundane region inhabited bybeings of an angelic or half-angelic order--feared, I say, for, withthis new love in my heart, no elysium or starry abode could compare withthis green earth for a dwellingplace. But when I remembered my ownbrutal bull of Bashan performance, my face, there in the dark, was onfire with shame; and I cursed the ignorant, presumptuous folly I hadbeen guilty of in roaring out that abominable "Vicar of Bray" ballad, which had now become as hateful to me as my trousers or boots. Thecomposer of that song, the writer of the words, and its subject, thedouble-faced Vicar himself, presented themselves to my mind as the threemost damnable beings that had ever existed. "The devil take my luck!" Imuttered, grinding my teeth with impotent anger; for it seemed such hardlines, just when I had succeeded in getting into favor, to go and spoilit all in that unhappy way. Now that I had become acquainted with theirstyle of singing, the supposed fib, about which there had been such apother, seemed a very venial offense compared with my attempt to leadthe singing. Nevertheless, when the concert was over, not a word wassaid on the subject by any one, though I had quite expected to be takenat once to the magisterial chamber to hear some dreadful sentence passedon me; and when, before retiring, anxious to propitiate my host, I beganto express regret for having inflicted pain on them by attempting tosing, the venerable gentleman raised his hands deprecatingly, and beggedme to say no more about it, for painful subjects were best forgotten. "No doubt, " he kindly added, "when you were lying there buried among thehills, you swallowed a large amount of earth and gravel in your effortsto breathe, and have not yet freed your lungs from it. "

This was the most charitable view he could take of the matter, and I wasthankful that no worse result followed. 

Chapter 10

At length the joyful day arrived when I was to cease, in outwardappearance at all events, to be an alien; for returning at noon from thefields, on entering my cell I beheld my beautiful new garments--twocomplete suits, besides underwear: one, the most soberly colored, intended only for working hours; but the second, which was for thehouse, claimed my first attention. Trembling with eagerness, I flung offthe old tweeds, the cracked boots, and other vestiges of a civilizationwhich they had perhaps survived, and soon found that I had been measuredwith faultless accuracy; for everything, down to the shoes, fitted toperfection. Green was the prevailing or ground tint--a soft sap green;the pattern on it, which was very beautiful, being a somewhat obscurered, inclining to purple. My delight culminated when I drew on the hose, which had, like those worn by the others, a curious design, evidentlyborrowed from the skin of some kind of snake. The ground color was lightgreen, almost citron yellow, in fact, and the pattern a bright maroonred, with bronze reflections. 

I had no sooner arrayed myself than, with a flushed face and palpitatingheart, I flew to exhibit myself to my friends, and found them assembledand waiting to see and admire the result of their work. The pleasure Isaw reflected in their transparent faces increased my happiness ahundredfold, and I quite astonished them with the torrent of eloquencein which I expressed my overflowing gratitude. 

"Now, tell me one secret, " I exclaimed, when the excitement began toabate a little. "Why is green the principal color in my clothes, when noother person in the house wears more than a very little of it?"

I had no sooner spoken than I heartily wished that I had held my peace;for it all at once occurred to me that green was perhaps the color foran alien or mere hireling, in which light they perhaps regarded me. 

"Oh, Smith, can you not guess so simple a thing?" said Edra, placing herwhite hands on my shoulders and smiling straight into my face. 

How beautiful she looked, standing there with her eyes so near to mine!"Tell me why, Edra?" I said, still with a lingering apprehension. 

"Why, look at the color of my eyes and skin--would this green tint besuitable for me to wear?"

"Oh, is that the reason!" cried I, immensely relieved. "I think, Edra, you would look very beautiful in any color that is on the earth, or inthe rainbow above the earth. But am I so different from you all?"

"Oh yes, quite different--have you never looked at yourself? Your skinis whiter and redder, and your hair has a very different color. It willlook better when it grows long, I think. And your eyes--do you know thatthey never change! for when we look at you closely they are stillblue-gray, and not green. "

"No; I wish they were, " said I. "Now I shall value my clothes a hundredtimes more, since you have taken so much pains to make them--well, whatshall I say?--harmonize, I suppose, with the peculiar color of my mug. Dash it all, I'm blundering again! I mean--I mean--don't you know----"

Edra laughed and gave it up. Then we all laughed; for now evidently myblundering did not so much matter, since I had shed my outer integument, and come forth like a snake (with a divided tail) in a brand new skin. 

Presently I missed Yoletta from the room, and desiring above all thingsto have some word of congratulation from her lips, I went off to seekher. She was standing under the portico waiting for me. "Come, " shesaid, and proceeded to lead me into the music-room, where we sat down onone of the couches close to the dais; there she produced some largewhite tablets, and red chalk pencils or crayons. 

"Now, Smith, I am going to begin teaching you, " said she, with the graveair of a young schoolmistress; "and every afternoon, when your work isdone, you must come to me here. "

"I hope I am very stupid, and that it will take me a long time tolearn, " said I. 

"Oh"--she laughed--"do you think it will be so pleasant sitting by mehere? I am glad you think that; but if you prefer me for a teacher youmust not try to be stupid, because if you do I shall ask some one elseto take my place. "

"Would you really do that, Yoletta?"

"Yes. Shall I tell you why? Because I have a quick, impatient temper. Everything wrong I have ever done, for which I have been punished, hasbeen through my hasty temper. "

"And have you ever undergone that sad punishment of being shut up byyourself for many days, Yoletta?"

"Yes, often; for what other punishment is there? But oh, I hope it willnever happen again, because I think--I know that I suffer more than anyone can imagine. To tread on the grass, to feel the sun and wind on myface, to see the earth and sky and animals--this is like life to me; andwhen I am shut up alone, every day seems--oh, a year at least!" She didnot know how much dearer this confession of one little human weaknessmade her seem to me. "Come, let us begin, " she said. "I waited for yournew clothes to be finished, and we must make up for lost time. "

"But do you know, Yoletta, that you have not said anything about them?Do I look nice; and will you like me any better now?"

"Yes, much better. You were a poor caterpillar before; I liked you alittle because I knew what a pretty butterfly you would be in time. Ihelped to make your wings. Now, listen. "

For two hours she taught me, making her red letters or marks, which Icopied on my tablet, and explaining them to me; and at the conclusion ofthe lesson, I had got a general idea that the writing was to a greatextent phonographic, and that I was in for rather a tough job. 

"Do you think that you will be able to teach me to sing also?" I asked, when she had put the tablets aside. 

The memory of that miserable failure, when I "had led the singing, " wasa constant sore in my mind. I had begun to think that I had not donemyself justice on that memorable occasion, and the desire to makeanother trial under more favorable circumstances was very strong in me. 

She looked a little startled at my question, but said nothing. 

"I know now, " I continued pleadingly, "that you all sing softly. If youwill only consent to try me once I promise to stick like cobbler'swax--I beg your pardon, I mean I will endeavor to adhere to the morendoand perdendosi style--don't you know? What am I saying! But I promiseyou, Yoletta, I shan't frighten you, if you will only let me try andsing to you once. "

She turned from me with a somewhat clouded expression of face, andwalked with slow steps to the dais, and placing her hands on the keys, caused two of the small globes to revolve, sending soft waves of soundthrough the room. 

I advanced towards her, but she raised her hand apprehensively. "No, no, no; stand there, " she said, "and sing low. "

It was hard to see her troubled face and obey, but I was not going tobellow at her like a bull, and I had set my heart on this trial. For thelast three days, while working in the fields, I had been incessantlypracticing my dear old master Campana's exquisite _M'appar sullatomba_, the only melody I happened to know which had any resemblanceto their divine music. To my surprise she seemed to play as I sang asuitable accompaniment on the globes, which aided and encouraged me, and, although singing in a subdued tone, I felt that I had never sung sowell before. When I finished, I quite expected some word of praise, orto be asked why I had not sung this melody on that unhappy evening whenI was asked to lead; but she spoke no word. 

"Will you sing something now?" I said. 

"Not now--this evening, " she replied absently, slowly walking across thefloor with eyes cast down. 

"What are you thinking of, Yoletta, that you look so serious?" I asked. 

"Nothing, " she returned, a little impatiently. 

"You look very solemn about nothing, then. But you have not said oneword about my singing--did you not like it?"

"Your singing? Oh no! It was a pleasant-tasting little kernel in a veryrough rind--I should like one without the other. "

"You talk in riddles, Yoletta; but I'm afraid the answers to them wouldnot sound very flattering to me. But if you would like to know the songI shall be only too glad to teach it to you. The words are in Italian, but I can translate them. "

"The words?" she said absently. 

"The words of the song, " I said. 

"I do not know what you mean by the words of a song. Do not speak to menow, Smith. "

"Oh, very well, " said I, thinking it all very strange, and sitting downI divided my attention between my beautiful hose and Yoletta, stillslowly pacing the floor with that absent look on her face. 

At length the curious mood changed, but I did not venture to talk anymore about music, and before very long we repaired to the eating-room, where, for the next two or three hours, we occupied ourselves veryagreeably with those processes which, some new theorist informs us, constitute our chief pleasure in life. 

That evening I overheard a curious little dialogue. The father of thehouse, as I had now grown accustomed to call our head, after rising fromhis seat, stood for a few minutes talking near me, while Yoletta, withher hand on his arm, waited for him to finish. When he had donespeaking, and turned to her, she said in a low voice, which I, however, overheard: "Father, I shall lead to-night. "

He put his hand on her head, and, looking down, studied her upturnedface. "Ah, my daughter, " he said with a smile, "shall I guess what hasinspired you to-day? You have been listening to the passage birds. Ialso heard them this morning passing in flocks. And you have beenfollowing them in thought far away into those sun-bright lands wherewinter never comes. "

"No, father, " she returned, "I have only been a little way from home inthought--only to that spot where the grass has not yet grown to hide theashes and loose mold. " He stooped and kissed her forehead, and then leftthe room; and she, never noticing the hungry look with which I witnessedthe tender caress, also went away. 

That some person was supposed to lead the singing every evening I knew, but it was impossible for me ever to discover who the leader was; now, however, after overhearing this conversation, I knew that on thisparticular occasion it would be Yoletta, and in spite of the very pooropinion she had expressed of my musical abilities, I was prepared toadmire the performance more than I had ever done before. 

It commenced in the usual mysterious and indefinable manner; but aftera time, when it began to shape itself into melodies, the idea possessedme that I was listening to strains once familiar, but long unheard andforgotten. At length I discovered that this was Campana's music, onlynot as I had ever heard it sung; for the melody of _M'appar sullatomba_ had been so transmuted and etherealized, as it were, that thecomposer himself would have listened in wondering ecstasy to themournful strains, which had passed through the alembic of their moredelicately organized minds. Listening, I remembered with anunaccountable feeling of sadness, that poor Campana had recently died inLondon; and almost at the same moment there came to me a remembrance ofmy beloved mother, whose early death was my first great grief inboyhood. All the songs I had ever heard her sing came back to me, ringing in my mind with a wonderful joy, but ever ending in a strange, funereal sadness. And not only my mother, but many a dear one besidesreturned "in beauty from the dust" appeared to be present--white-hairedold men who had spoken treasured words to me in bygone years;schoolfellows and other boyish friends and companions; and men, too, inthe prime of life, of whose premature death in this or that far-offregion of the world-wide English empire I had heard from time to time. They came back to me, until the whole room seemed filled with a pale, shadowy procession, moving past me to the sound of that mysteriousmelody. Through all the evening it came back, in a hundred bewilderingdisguises, filling me with a melancholy infinitely precious, which wasyet almost more than my heart could bear. Again and yet again thatdespairing _Ah-i-me_ fell like a long shuddering sob from therevolving globes, and from voices far and near, to be taken up and borneyet further away by far-off, dying sounds, yet again responded to bynearer, clearer voices, in tones which seemed wrung "from the depths ofsome divine despair"; then to pass away, but not wholly pass, for allthe hidden cells were stirred, and the vibrating air, like mysterious, invisible hands, swept the suspended strings, until the exquisite blissand pain of it made me tremble and shed tears, as I sat there in thedark, wondering, as men will wonder at such moments, what this tempestof the soul which music wakes in us can mean: whether it is merely agrowth of this our earth-life, or a something added, a divine hunger ofthe heart which is part of our immortality. 

Chapter 11

It seemed to me now that I had never really lived before so sweet wasthis new life--so healthy, and free from care and regret. The old life, which I had lived in cities, was less in my thoughts on each succeedingday; it came to me now like the memory of a repulsive dream, which I wasonly too glad to forget. How I had ever found that listless, worn-out, luxurious, do-nothing existence endurable, seemed a greater mysteryevery morning, when I went forth to my appointed task in the fields orthe workhouse, so natural and so pleasant did it now seem to labor withmy own hands, and to eat my bread in the sweat of my face. If there wasone kind of work I preferred above all others, it was wood-cutting, andas a great deal of timber was required at this season, I was allowed tofollow my own inclination. In the forest, a couple of miles from thehouse, several tough old giants--chiefly oak, chestnut, elm, andbeech--had been marked out for destruction: in some cases because theyhad been scorched and riven by lightnings, and were an eyesore; inothers, because time had robbed them of their glory, withering theirlong, desolate arms, and bestowing on their crowns that lusterless, scanty foliage which has a mournful meaning, like the thin white hairson the bowed head of a very old man. At this distance from the house Icould freely indulge my propensity for singing, albeit in that coarsertone which had failed to win favor with my new friends. 

Among the grand trees, out of earshot of them all, I could shout aloudto my heart's content, rejoicing in the boisterous old English ballads, which, like John Peele's view-hallo, _"Might awaken the dead Or the fox from his lair in the morning. "_

Meanwhile, with the frantic energy of a Gladstone out of office, I pliedmy ax, its echoing strokes making fit accompaniment to my strains, untilfor many yards about me the ground was littered with white and yellowchips; then, exhausted with my efforts, I would sit down to rest and eatmy simple midday fare, to admire myself in my deep-green and chocolateworking-dress, and, above everything, to think and dream of Yoletta. 

* * * * *

In my walks to and from the forest I cast many a wistful look at asolitary flat-topped hill, almost a mountain in height, which stood twoor three miles from the house, north of it, on the other side of theriver. From its summit I felt sure that a very extensive view of thesurrounding country might be had, and I often wished to pay this hill avisit. One afternoon, while taking my lesson in reading, I mentionedthis desire to Yoletta. 

"Come, then, let us go there now, " said she, laying the tablets aside. 

I joyfully agreed: I had never walked alone with her, nor, in fact, withher at all, since that first day when she had placed her hand in mine;and now we were so much nearer in heart to each other. 

She led me to a point, half a mile from the house, where the streamrushed noisily over its stony bed and formed numerous deep channelsbetween the rocks, and one could cross over by jumping from rock torock. Yoletta led the way, leaping airily from stone to stone, while I, anxious to escape a wetting, followed her with caution; but when I wassafe over, and thought our delightful walk was about to begin, shesuddenly started off towards the hill at a swift pace, which quicklyleft me far behind. Finding that I could not overtake her, I shouted toher to wait for me; then she stood still until I was within three orfour yards Of her, when off she fled like the wind once more. At lengthshe reached the foot of the hill, and sat down there until I joined her. 

"For goodness sake, Yoletta, let us behave like rational beings and walkquietly, " I was beginning, when away she went again, dancing up themountain-side with a tireless energy that amazed as well as exasperatedme. "Wait for me just once more, " I screamed after her; then, half-wayup the side, she stopped and sat down on a stone. 

"Now my chance has come, " thought I, ready to make up for insufficientspeed and wind by superior cunning, which would make us equal. "I willgo quietly up and catch her napping, and hold her fast by the arm untilthe walk is finished. So far it has been nothing but a mad chase. "

Slowly I toiled on, and then, when I got near her and was just about toexecute my plan, she started nimbly away, with a merry laugh, and neverpaused again until the summit was reached. Thoroughly tired and beaten, I sat down to rest; but presently looking up I saw her at the top, standing motionless on a stone, looking like a statue outlined againstthe clear blue sky. Once more I got up and pressed on until I reachedher, and then sank down on the grass, overcome with fatigue. 

"When you ask me to walk again, Yoletta, " I panted, "I shall not moveunless I have a rope round your waist to pull you back when you try torush off in that mad fashion. You have knocked all the wind out of me;and yet I was in pretty good trim. "

She laughed, and jumping to the ground, sat down at my side on thegrass. 

I caught her hand and held it tight. "Now you shall not escape and runaway again, " said I. 

"You may keep my hand, " she replied; "it has nothing to do up here. "

"May I put it to some useful purpose--may I do what I like with it?"

"Yes, you may, " then she added with a smile: "There is no thorn in itnow. "

I kissed it many times on the back, the palm, the wrist then bestowed aseparate caress on each finger-tip. 

"Why do you kiss my hand?" she asked. 

"Do you not know--can you not guess? Because it is the sweetest thing Ican kiss, except one other thing. Shall I tell you----"

"My face? And why do you not kiss that?"

"Oh, may I?" said I, and drawing her to me I kissed her soft cheek. "MayI kiss the other cheek now?" I asked. She turned it to me, and when Ihad kissed it rapturously, I gazed into her eyes, which looked back, bright and unabashed, into mine. "I think--I think I made a slightmistake, Yoletta, " I said. "What I meant to ask was, will you let mekiss you where I like--on your chin, for instance, or just where Ilike?"

"Yes; but you are keeping me too long. Kiss me as many times as youlike, and then let us admire the prospect. "

I drew her closer and kissed her mouth, not once nor twice, but clingingto it with all the ardor of passion, as if my lips had become glued tohers. 

Suddenly she disengaged herself from me. "Why do you kiss my mouth inthat violent way?" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling, her cheeksflushed. "You seem like some hungry animal that wanted to devour me. "

That was, oddly enough, just how I felt. "Do you not not know, sweetest, why I kiss you in that way? Because I love you. "

"I know you do, Smith. I can understand and appreciate your love withouthaving my lips bruised. "

"And do you love me, Yoletta?"

"Yes, certainly--did you not know that?"

"And is it not sweet to kiss when you love? Do you know what love is, darling? Do you love me a thousand times more than any one else in theworld?"

"How extravangantly you talk!" she replied. "What strange things yousay!"

"Yes, dear, because love is strange--the strangest, sweetest thing inlife. It comes once only to the heart, and the one person loved isinfinitely more than all others. Do you not understand that?"

"Oh no; what do you mean, Smith?"

"Is there any other person dearer to your heart than I am?"

"I love every one in the house, some more than others. Those that areclosely related to me I love most. "

"Oh, please say no more! You love your people with one kind of love, butme with a different love--is it not so?"

"There is only one kind of love, " said she. 

"Ah, you say that because you are a child yet, and do not know. You areeven younger than I thought, perhaps. How old are you, dear?"

"Thirty-one years old, " she replied, with the utmost gravity. 

"Oh, Yoletta, what an awful cram! I mean--oh, I beg your pardon forbeing so rude! But--but don't you think you can draw it mild?Thirty-one--what a joke! Why, I'm an old fellow compared with you, andI'm not twenty-two yet. Do tell me what you mean, Yoletta?"

She was not listening to me, I saw: she had risen from the grass andseated herself again on the stone. For only answer to my question shepointed to the west with her hand, saying: "Look there, Smith. "

I stood up and looked. The sun was near the horizon now, and partiallyconcealed by low clouds, which were beginning to form--gray, and tingedwith purple and red; but their misty edges burned with an intense yellowflame. Above, the sky was clear as blue glass, barred with pale-yellowrays, shot forth by the sinking sun, and resembling the spokes of animmense celestial wheel reaching to the zenith. The billowy earth, withits forests in deep green and many-colored, autumnal foliage, stretchedfar before us, here in shadow, and there flushed with rich light; whilethe mountain range, looming near and stupendous on our right, hadchanged its color from dark blue to violet. 

The doubts and fears agitating my heart made me indifferent to thesurpassing beauty of the scene: I turned impatiently from it to gazeagain on her graceful figure, girlish still in its slim proportions; buther face, flushed with sunlight, and crowned with its dark, shininghair, seemed to me like the face of one of the immortals. The expressionof rapt devotion on it made me silent, for it seemed as if she too hadbeen touched by nature's magic, like earth and sky, and beentransfigured; and waiting for the mood to pass, I stood by her side, resting my hand on her knee. By-and-by she looked down and smiled, andthen I returned to the subject of her age. 

"Surely, Yoletta, " said I, "you were only poking fun at me--I mean, amusing yourself at my expense. You can't possibly be more than aboutfifteen, or sixteen at the very outside. "

She smiled again and shook her head. 

"Oh, I know, I can solve the riddle now. Your years are different, ofcourse, like everything else in this latitude. A month is called a yearwith you, and that would make you, let me see--how much is twelve timesthirty-one? Oh, hang it, nearly five hundred, I should think. Why am Isuch a duffer at mental arithmetic! It is just the contrary--how manytwelves in thirty-one? About two and a half in round numbers, and that'sabsurd, as you are not a baby. Oh, I have it: your seasons are calledyears, of course--why didn't I see it before! No, that would make youonly seven and a half. Ah, yes, I see it now: a year means two years, ortwo of your years--summer and winter--mean a year; and that just makesyou sixteen, exactly what I had imagined. Is it not so, Yoletta?"

"I do not know what you are talking about, Smith; and I am notlistening. "

"Well, listen for one moment, and tell me how long does a year last?"

"It lasts from the time the leaves fall in the autumn until they fallagain; and it lasts from the time the swallows come in spring until theycome again. "

"And seriously, honestly, you are thirty-one years old?"

"Did I not tell you so? Yes, I am thirty-one years old. "

"Well, I never heard anything to equal this! Good heavens, what does itmean? I know it is awfully rude to inquire a lady's age, but what am Ito do? Will you kindly tell me Edra's age?"

"Edra? I forget. Oh yes; she is sixty-three. "

"Sixty-three! I'll be shot if she's a day more than twenty-eight! Idiotthat I am, why can't I keep calm! But, Yoletta, how you distress me! Italmost frightens me to ask another question, but do tell me how old yourfather is?"

"He is nearly two hundred years old--a hundred and ninety-eight, Ithink, " she replied. 

"Heavens on earth--I shall go stark, staring mad!" But I could say nomore; leaving her side I sat down on a low stone at some distance, witha stunned feeling in my brain, and something like despair in my heart. That she had told me the truth I could no longer doubt for one moment:it was impossible for her crystal nature to be anything but truthful. The number of her years mattered nothing to me; the virgin sweetness ofgirlhood was on her lips, the freshness and glory of early youth on herforehead; the misery was that she had lived thirty-one years in theworld and did not understand the words I had spoken to her--did not knowwhat love, or passion, was! Would it always be so--would my heartconsume itself to ashes, and kindle no fire in hers?

Then, as I sat there, filled with these despairing thoughts, she camedown from her perch, and, dropping on her knees before me, put her armsabout my neck and gazed steadily into my face. "Why are you troubled, Smith-have I said anything to hurt you?" said she. "And do you not knowthat you have offended me?"

"Have I? Tell me how, dearest Yoletta. "

"By asking questions, and saying wild, meaningless things while I satthere watching the setting sun. It troubled me and spoiled my pleasure;but I will forgive you, Smith, because I love you. Do you not think Ilove you enough? You are very dear to me--dearer every day. " And drawingdown my face she kissed my lips. 

"Darling, you make me happy again, " I returned, "for if your loveincreases every day, the time will perhaps come when you will understandme, and be all I wish to me. "

"What is it that you wish?" she questioned. 

"That you should be mine--mine alone, wholly mine--and give yourself tome, body and soul. "

She continued gazing up into my eyes. "In a sense we do, I suppose, giveourselves, body and soul, to those we love, " she said. "And if you arenot yet satisfied that I have given myself to you in that way, you mustwait patiently, saying and doing nothing willfully to alienate my heart, until the time arrives when my love will be equal to your desire. Come, "she added, and, rising, pulled me up by the hand. 

Silently, and somewhat pensively, we started hand in hand on our walkdown the hill. Presently she dropped on her knees, and opening the grasswith her hands, displayed a small, slender bud, on a round, smooth stem, springing without leaves from the soil. "Do you see!" she said, lookingup at me with a bright smile. 

"Yes, dear, I see a bud; but I do not know anything more about it. "

"Oh, Smith, do you not know that it is a rainbow lily!" And rising, shetook my hand and walked on again. 

"What is the rainbow lily?"

"By-and-by, in a few days, it will be in fullest bloom, and the earthwill be covered with its glory. "

"It is so late in the season, Yoletta! Spring is the time to see theearth covered with the glory of flowers. "

"There is nothing to equal the rainbow lily, which comes when mostflowers are dead, or have their bright colors tarnished. Have you livedin the moon, Smith, that I have to tell you these things?"

"No, dear, but in that island where all things, including flowers, weredifferent. "

"Ah, yes; tell me about the island. "

Now "that island" was an unfortunate subject, and I was not prepared tobreak the resolution I had made of prudently holding my tongue about itspeculiar institutions. "How can I tell you?--how could you imagine it ifI were to tell you?" I said, evading the question. "You have seen theheavens black with tempests, and have felt the lightnings blinding youreyes, and have heard the crash of the thunder: could you imagine allthat if you had never witnessed it, and I described it to you?"

"No. "

"Then it would be useless to tell you. And now tell me about the rainbowlilies, for I am a great lover of flowers. "

"Are you? Is it strange you should have a taste common to all humanbeings?" she returned with a pretty smile. "But it is easier to askquestions than to answer them. If you had never seen the sun setting inglory, or the midnight sky shining with myriads of stars, could youimagine these things if I described them to you?"

"No. "

"That word is an echo, Smith. You must wait for the earth to bring forthher rainbow lilies, and the heart its love. "

"With or without flowers, the world is a paradise to me, with you at myside, Yoletta. Ah, if you will be my Eve! How sweet it is to walk handin hand with you in the twilight; but it was not so nice when you werescuttling from me like a wild rabbit. I'm glad to find that you do walksometimes. "

"Yes, sometimes--on solemn occasions. "

"Yes? Tell me about these solemn occasions. "

"This is not one of them, " she replied, suddenly withdrawing her handfrom mine; then with a ringing laugh, she sped from me, bounding downthe hill-side with the speed and grace of a gazelle. 

I instantly gave chase; but it was a very vain chase, although I putforth all my powers. Occasionally she would drop on her knees to admiresome wild flower, or search for a lily bud; and whenever she came to alarge stone, she would spring on to it, and stand for some timemotionless, gazing at the rich hues of the afterglow; but always at myapproach she would spring lightly away, escaping from me as easily as awild bird. Tired with running, I at last gave up the hunt, and walkedsoberly home by myself, wondering whether that conversation on thesummit of the hill, and all the curious information I had gathered fromit, should make me the most miserable or the most happy being uponearth. 

Chapter 12

The question whether I had reason to feel happy or the reverse stilloccupied me after going to bed, and kept me awake far into the night. Iput it to myself in a variety of ways, concentrating my faculties on it;but the result still remained doubtful. Mine was a curious position fora man to be in; for here was I, very much in love with Yoletta, who saidthat her age was thirty-one, and yet who knew of only one kind oflove--that sisterly affection which she gave me so unstintingly. Ofcourse I was surrounded with mysteries, being in the house but not ofit, to the manner born; and I had already arrived at the conclusion thatthese mysteries could only be known to me through reading, once thataccomplishment was mine. For it seemed rather a dangerous thing to askquestions, since the most innocent interrogatory might be taken as anoffense, only to be expiated by solitary confinement and abread-and-water diet; or, if not punishable in that way, it wouldprobably be regarded as a result of the supposed collision of my headwith a stone. To be reticent, observant, and studious was a safe plan;this had served to make me diligent and attentive with my lessons, andmy gentle teacher had been much pleased with the progress I had made, even in a few days. Her words on the hill had now, however, filled mewith anxiety, and I wanted to go a little below the surface of thisstrange system of life. Why was this large family--twenty-two memberspresent, besides some absent pilgrims, as they are called--composed onlyof adults? Again, more curious still, why was the father of the houseadorned with a majestic beard, while the other men, of various ages, hadsmooth faces, or, at any rate, nothing more than a slight down on theupper lip and cheeks? It was plain that they never shaved. And werethese people all really brothers and sisters? So far, I had been unable, even with the most jealous watching, to detect anything like love-makingor flirting; they all treated each other, as Yoletta treated me, withkindness and affection, and nothing more. And if the head of the housewas in fact the father of them all--since in two centuries a man mighthave an indefinite number of children--who was the mother or mothers? Iwas never good at guessing, but the result of my cogitations was onehappy idea--to ask Yoletta whether she had a living mother or not? Shewas my teacher, my friend and guardian in the house, and if it shouldturn out that the question was an unfortunate one, an offense, she wouldbe readier to forgive than another. 

Accordingly, next day, as soon as we were alone together I put thequestion to her, although not without a nervous qualm. 

She looked at me with the greatest surprise. "Do you mean to say, " sheanswered, "that you do not know I have a mother--that there is a motherof the house?"

"How should I know, Yoletta?" I returned. "I have not heard you addressany one as mother; besides, how is one to know anything in a strangeplace unless he is told?"

"How strange, then, that you never asked till now! There is a mother ofthe house--the mother of us all, of you since you were made one of us;and it happens, too, that I am her daughter--her only child. You havenot seen her because you have never asked to be taken to her; and she isnot among us because of her illness. For very long she has beenafflicted with a malady from which she cannot recover, and for a wholeyear she has not left the Mother's Room. "

She spoke with eyes cast down, in a low and very sad voice. It was onlytoo plain now that in my ignorance I had been guilty of a grave breachof the etiquette or laws of the house; and anxious to repair my fault, also to know more of the one female in this mysterious community who hadloved, or at all events had known marriage, I asked if I might see her. 

"Yes, " she answered, after some hesitation, still standing with eyescast down. Then suddenly, bursting into tears, she exclaimed: "Oh, Smith, how could you be in the world and not know that there is a motherin every house! How could you travel and not know that when you enter ahouse, after greeting the father, you first of all ask to be taken tothe mother to worship her and feel her hand on your head? Did you notsee that we were astonished and grieved at your silence when you came, and we waited in vain for you to speak?"

I was dumb with shame at her words. How well I remembered that firstevening in the house, when I could not but see that something wasexpected of me, yet never ventured to ask for enlightment!

Presently, recovering from her tears, she went from the room, and, leftalone, I was more than ever filled with wonder at what she had told me. I had not imagined that she had come into the world without a mother;nevertheless, the fact that this passionless girl, who had told me thatthere was only one kind of love, was the daughter of a woman actuallyliving in the house, of whose existence I had never before heard, exceptin an indirect way which I failed to understand, seemed like a dream tome. Now I was about to see this hidden woman, and the interview wouldreveal something to me, for I would discover in her face andconversation whether she was in the same mystic state of mind as theothers, which made them seem like the dwellers in some better place thanthis poor old sinful, sorrowful world. My wishes, however, were not tobe gratified, for presently Yoletta returned and said that her motherdid not desire to see me then. She looked so distressed when she told methis, putting her white arms about my neck as if to console me for mydisappointment, that I refrained from pressing her with questions, andfor several days nothing more was spoken between us on the subject. 

At length, one day when our lesson was over, with an expression ofmingled pleasure and anxiety on her face, she rose and took my hand, saying, "Come. "

I knew she was going to take me to her mother, and rose to obey hergladly, for since the conversation I had had with her the desire to knowthe lady of the house had given me no peace. 

Leaving the music room, we entered another apartment, of the samenave-like form, but vaster, or, at all events, considerably longer. There I started and stood still, amazed at the scene before me. Thelight, which found entrance through tall, narrow windows, was dim, butsufficient to show the whole room with everything in it, ending at thefurther extremity at a flight of broad stone steps. The middle part ofthe floor, running the entire length of the apartment, was about twentyfeet wide, but on either side of this passage, which was covered withmosaic, the floor was raised; and on this higher level I saw, as Iimagined, a great company of men and women, singly and in groups, standing or seated on great stone chairs in various positions andattitudes. Presently I perceived that these were not living beings, butlife-like effigies of stone, the drapery they were represented aswearing being of many different richly-colored stones, having theappearance of real garments. So natural did the hair look, that onlywhen I ascended the steps and touched the head of one of the statues wasI convinced that it was also of stone. Even more wonderful in theirresemblance to life were the eyes, which seemed to return myhalf-fearful glances with a calm, questioning scrutiny I found it hardto endure. I hurried on after my guide without speaking, but when I gotto the middle of the room I paused involuntarily once more, soprofoundly did one of the statues impress me. It was of a woman of amajestic figure and proud, beautiful face, with an abundance ofsilvery-white hair. She sat bending forward with her eyes fixed on mineas I advanced, one hand pressed to her bosom, while with the other sheseemed in the act of throwing back her white unbound tresses from herforehead. There was, I thought, a look of calm, unbending pride on theface, but on coming closer this expression disappeared, giving place toone so wistful and pleading, so charged with subtle pain, that I stoodgazing like one fascinated, until Yoletta took my hand and gently drewme away. Still, in spite of the absorbing nature of the matter on whichI was bound, that strange face continued to haunt me, and glancing upand down through that long array of calm-browed, beautiful women, Icould see no one that was like it. 

Arrived at the end of the gallery, we ascended the broad stone steps, and came to a landing twenty or thirty feet above the level of the floorwe had traversed. Here Yoletta pushed a glass door aside and ushered meinto another apartment--the Mother's Room. It was spacious, and, unlikethe gallery, well-lighted; the air in it was also warm and balmy, andseemed charged with a subtle aroma. But now my whole attention wasconcentrated on a group of persons before me, and chiefly on its centralfigure--the woman I had so much desired to see. She was seated, leaningback in a somewhat listless attitude, on a very large, low, couch-likeseat, covered with a soft, violet-colored material. My very first glanceat her face revealed to me that she differed in appearance andexpression from other inmates of the house: one reason was that she wasextremely pale, and bore on her worn countenance the impress oflong-continued suffering; but that was not all. She wore her hair, whichfell unbound on her shoulders, longer than the others, and her eyeslooked larger, and of a deeper green. There was something wonderfullyfascinating to me in that pale, suffering face, for, in spite ofsuffering, it was beautiful and loving; but dearer than all these thingsto my mind were the marks of passion it exhibited, the petulant, almostscornful mouth, and the half-eager, half-weary expression of the eyes, for these seemed rather to belong to that imperfect world from which Ihad been severed, and which was still dear to my unregenerate heart. Inother respects also she differed from the rest of the women, her dressbeing a long, pale-blue robe, embroidered with saffron-colored flowersand foliage down the middle, and also on the neck and the wide sleeves. On the couch at her side sat the father of the house, holding her handand talking in low tones to her; two of the young women sat at her feeton cushions, engaged on embroidery work, while another stood behind her;one of the young men was also there, and was just now showing her asketch, and apparently explaining something in it. 

I had expected to find a sick, feeble lady, in a dimly-lighted chamber, with perhaps one attendant at her side; now, coming so unexpectedlybefore this proud-looking, beautiful woman, with so many about her, Iwas completely abashed, and, feeling too confused to say anything, stoodsilent and awkward in her presence. 

"This is our stranger, Chastel, " said the old man to her, at the sametime bestowing an encouraging look on me. 

She turned from the sketch she had been studying, and raising herselfslightly from her half-recumbent attitude, fixed her dark eyes on mewith some interest. 

"I do not see why you were so much impressed, " she remarked after awhile. "There is nothing very strange in him after all. "

I felt my face grow hot with shame and anger, for she seemed to look onme and speak of me--not to me--as if I had been some strange, semi-humancreature, discovered in the woods, and brought in as a great curiosity. 

"No; it was not his countenance, only his curious garments and his wordsthat astonished us, " said the father in reply. 

She made no answer to this, but presently, addressing me directly, said:"You were a long time in the house before you expressed a wish to seeme. "

I found my speech then--a wretched, hesitating speech, for which I hatedmyself--and replied, that I had asked to be allowed to see her as soonas I had been informed of her existence. 

She turned on the father a look of surprise and inquiry. 

"You must remember, Chastel, " said he, "that he comes to us from somestrange, distant island, having customs different from ours--a thing Ihad never heard of before. I can give you no other explanation. "

Her lip curled, and then, turning to me, she continued: "If there arehouses in your island without mothers in them, it is not so elsewhere inthe world. That you went out to travel so poorly provided with knowledgeis a marvel to us; and as I have had the pain of telling you this, Imust regret that you ever left your own home. "

I could make no reply to these words, which fell on me likewhip-strokes; and looking at the other faces, I could see no sympathy inthem for me; as they looked at her--their mother--and listened to herwords, the expression they wore was love and devotion to her only, reminding me a little of the angel faces on Guide's canvas of the"Coronation of the Virgin. "

"Go now, " she presently added in a petulant tone; "I am tired, and wishto rest"; and Yoletta, who had been standing silently by me all thetime, took my hand and led me from the room. 

With eyes cast down I passed through the gallery, paying no attention toits strange, stony occupants; and leaving my gentle conductress withouta word at the door of the music-room, I hurried away from the house. ForI could feel love and compassion in the touch of the dear girl's hand, and it seemed to me that if she had spoken one word, my overchargedheart would have found vent in tears. I only wished to be alone, tobrood in secret on my pain and the bitterness of defeat; for it wasplain that the woman I had so wished to see, and, since seeing her, sowished to be allowed to love, felt towards me nothing but contempt andaversion, and that from no fault of my own, she, whose friendship I mostneeded, was become my enemy in the house. 

My steps took me to the river. Following its banks for about a mile, Icame at last to a grove of stately old trees, and there I seated myselfon a large twisted root projecting over the water. To this sequesteredspot I had come to indulge my resentful feelings; for here I could speakout my bitterness aloud, if I felt so minded, where there were nowitnesses to hear me. I had restrained those unmanly tears, so nearlyshed in Yoletta's presence, and kept back by dark thoughts on the way;now I was sitting quietly by myself, safe from observation, safe evenfrom that sympathy my bruised spirit could not suffer. 

Scarcely had I seated myself before a great brown animal, with blackeyes, round and fierce, rose to the surface of the stream half a dozenyards from my feet; then quickly catching sight of me, it plungednoisily again under water, breaking the clear image reflected there witha hundred ripples. I waited for the last wavelet to fade away, but whenthe surface was once more still and smooth as dark glass, I began to beaffected by the profounded silence and melancholy of nature, and by asomething proceeding from nature--phantom, emanation, essence, I knownot what. My soul, not my sense, perceived it, standing with finger onlips, there, close to me; its feet resting on the motionless water, which gave no reflection of its image, the clear amber sunlight passingundimmed through its substance. To my soul its spoken "Hush!" wasaudible, and again, and yet again, it said "Hush!" until the tumult inme was still, and I could not think my own thoughts. I could thereafteronly listen, breathless, straining my senses to catch some naturalsound, however faint. Far away in the dim distance, in some bluepasture, a cow was lowing, and the recurring sound passed me like thehumming flight of an insect, then fainter still, like an imagined sound, until it ceased. A withered leaf fell from the tree-top; I heard itfluttering downwards, touching other leaves in its fall until the silentgrass received it. Then, as I listened for another leaf, suddenly fromoverhead came the brief gushing melody of some late singer, a robin-likesound, ringing out clear and distinct as a flourish on a clarionet:brilliant, joyous, and unexpected, yet in keeping with that melancholyquiet, affecting the mind like a spray of gold and scarlet embroidery ona pale, neutral ground. The sun went down, and in setting, kindled theboles of the old trees here and there into pillars of red fire, whileothers in deeper shade looked by contrast like pillars of ebony; andwherever the foliage was thinnest, the level rays shining throughimparted to the sere leaves a translucence and splendor that was likethe stained glass in the windows of some darkening cathedral. All alongthe river a white mist began to rise, a slight wind sprang up and thevapor drifted, drowning the reeds and bushes, and wreathing its ghostlyarms about the old trees: and watching the mist, and listening to the"hallowed airs and symphonies" whispered by the low wind, I felt thatthere was no longer any anger in my heart. Nature, and something in andyet more than nature, had imparted her "soft influences" and healed her"wandering and distempered child" until he could no more be a "jarringand discordant thing" in her sweet and sacred presence. 

When I looked up a change had come over the scene: the round, full moonhad risen, silvering the mist, and filling the wide, dim earth with anew mysterious glory. I rose from my seat and returned to the house, andwith that new insight and comprehension which had come to me--that_message_, as I could not but regard it--I now felt nothing butlove and sympathy for the suffering woman who had wounded me with herunmerited displeasure, and my only desire was to show my devotion toher. 

Chapter 13

As I approached the building, soft strains floating far out into thenight-air became audible, and I knew that the sweet spirit of music, towhich they were all so devoted, was present with them. After listeningfor awhile in the shadow of the portico I went in, and, anxious to avoiddisturbing the singers, stole away into a dusky corner, where I sat downby myself. Yoletta had, however, seen me enter, for presently she cameto me. 

"Why did you not come in to supper, Smith?" she said. "And why do youlook so sad?"

"Do you need to ask, Yoletta? Ah, it would have made me so happy if Icould have won your mother's affection! If she only knew how much I wishfor it, and how much I sympathize with her! But she will never like me, and all I wished to say to her must be left unsaid. "

"No, not so, " she said. "Come with me to her now: if you feel like that, she will be kind to you--how should it be otherwise?"

I greatly feared that she advised me to take an imprudent step; but shewas my guide, my teacher and friend in the house, and I resolved to doas she wished. There were no lights in the long gallery when we enteredit again, only the white moonbeams coming through the tall windows hereand there lit up a column or a group of statues, which threw long, blackshadows on floor and Wall, giving the chamber a weird appearance. Oncemore, when I reached the middle of the room, I paused, for there beforeme, ever bending forward, sat that wonderful woman of stone, themoonlight streaming full on her pale, wistful face and silvery hair. 

"Tell me, Yoletta, who is this?" I whispered. "Is it a statue of someone who lived in this house?"

"Yes; you can read about her in the history of the house, and in thisinscription on the stone. She was a mother, and her name was Isarte. "

"But why has she that strange, haunting expression on her face? Was sheunhappy?"

"Oh, can you not see that she was unhappy! She endured many sorrows, andthe crowning calamity of her life was the loss of seven loved sons. Theywere away in the mountains together, and did not return when expected:for many years she waited for tidings of them. It was conjectured that agreat rock had fallen on and crushed them beneath it. Grief for her lostchildren made her hair white, and gave that expression to her face. "

"And when did this happen?"

"Over two thousand years ago. "

"Oh, then it is a very old family tradition. But the statue--when wasthat made and placed here?"

"She had it made and placed here herself. It was her wish that the griefshe endured should be remembered in the house for all time, for no onehad ever suffered like her; and the inscription, which she caused to beput on the stone, says that if there shall ever come to a mother in thehouse a sorrow exceeding hers, the statue shall be removed from itsplace and destroyed, and the fragments buried in the earth with allforgotten things, and the name of Isarte forgotten in the house. "

It oppressed my mind to think of so long a period of time during whichthat unutterably sad face had gazed down on so many generations of theliving. "It is most strange!" I murmured. "But do you think it right, Yoletta, that the grief of one person should be perpetuated like that inthe house; for who can look on this face without pain, even when it isremembered that the sorrow it expresses ended so many centuries ago?"

"But she was a mother, Smith, do you not understand? It would not beright for us to wish to have our griefs remembered for ever, to causesorrow to those who succeed us; but a mother is different: her wishesare sacred, and what she wills is right. "

Her words surprised me not a little, for I had heard of infallible men, but never of women; moreover, the woman I was now going to see was alsoa "mother in the house, " a successor to this very Isarte. Fearing that Ihad touched on a dangerous topic, I said no more, and proceeding on ourway, we soon reached the mother's room, the large glass door of whichnow stood wide open. In the pale light of the moon--for there was noother in the room--we found Chastel on the couch where I had seen herbefore, but she was lying extended at full length now, and had only oneattendant with her. 

Yoletta approached her, and, stooping, touched her lips to the pale, still face. "Mother, " she said, "I have brought Smith again; he isanxious to say something to you, if you will hear him. "

"Yes, I will hear him, " she replied. "Let him sit near me; and now goback, for your voice is needed. And you may also leave me now, " sheadded, addressing the other lady. 

The two then departed together, and I proceeded to seat myself on acushion beside the couch. 

"What is it you wish to say to me?" she asked. The words were not veryencouraging, but her voice sounded gentler now, and I at once began. "Hush, " she said, before I had spoken two words. "Wait until thisends--I am listening to Yoletta's voice. "

Through the long, dusky gallery and the open doors soft strains of musicwere floating to us, and now, mingling with the others, a clearer, bell-like voice was heard, which soared to greater heights; but soonthis ceased to be distinguishable, and then she sighed and addressed meagain. "Where have you been all the evening, for you were not atsupper?"

"Did you know that?" I asked in surprise. 

"Yes, I know everything that passes in the house. Reading and work ofall kinds are a pain and weariness. The only thing left to me is tolisten to what others do or say, and to know all their comings andgoings. My life is nothing now but a shadow of other people's lives. "

"Then, " I said, "I must tell you how I spent the time after seeing youto-day; for I was alone, and no other person can say what I did. I wentaway along the river until I came to the grove of great trees on thebank, and there I sat until the moon rose, with my heart full ofunspeakable pain and bitterness. "

"What made you have those feelings?"

"When I heard of you, and saw you, my heart was drawn to you, and Iwished above all things in the world to be allowed to love and serveyou, and to have a share in your affection; but your looks and wordsexpressed only contempt and dislike towards me. Would it not have beenstrange if I had not felt extremely unhappy?"

"Oh, " she replied, "now I can understand the reason of the surprise yourwords have often caused in the house! Your very feelings seem unlikeours. No other person would have experienced the feelings you speak offor such a cause. It is right to repent your faults, and to bear theburden of them quietly; but it is a sign of an undisciplined spirit tofeel bitterness, and to wish to cast the blame of your suffering onanother. You forget that I had reason to be deeply offended with you. You also forget my continual suffering, which sometimes makes me seemharsh and unkind against my will. "

"Your words seem only sweet and gracious now, " I returned. "They havelifted a great weight from my heart, and I wish I could repay you forthem by taking some portion of your suffering on myself. "

"It is right that you should have that feeling, but idle to express it, "she answered gravely. "If such wishes could be fulfilled my sufferingswould have long ceased, since any one of my children would gladly laydown his life to procure me ease. "

To this speech, which sounded like another rebuke, I made no reply. 

"Oh, this is bitterness indeed--a bitterness you cannot know, " sheresumed after a while. "For you and for others there is always therefuge of death from continued sufferings: the brief pang ofdissolution, bravely met, is nothing in comparison with a lingeringagony like mine, with its long days and longer nights, extending toyears, and that great blackness of the end ever before the mind. Thisonly a mother can know, since the horror of utter darkness, and vainclinging to life, even when it has ceased to have any hope or joy in it, is the penalty she must pay for her higher state. "

I could not understand all her words, and only murmured in reply: "Youare young to speak of death. "

"Yes, young; that is why it is so bitter to think of. In old age thefeelings are not so keen. " Then suddenly she put out her hands towardsme, and, when I offered mine, caught my fingers with a nervous grasp anddrew herself to a sitting position. "Ah, why must I be afflicted with amisery others have not known!" she exclaimed excitedly. "To be liftedabove the others, when so young; to have one child only; then after sobrief a period of happiness, to be smitten with barrenness, and thislingering malady ever gnawing like a canker at the roots of life! Whohas suffered like me in the house? You only, Isarte, among the dead. Iwill go to you, for my grief is more than I can bear; and it may be thatI shall find comfort even in speaking to the dead, and to a stone. Canyou bear me in your arms?" she said, clasping me round the neck. "Takeme up in your arms and carry me to Isarte. "

I knew what she meant, having so recently heard the story of Isarte, andin obedience to her command I raised her from the couch. She was tall, and heavier than I had expected, though so greatly emaciated; but thethought that she was Yoletta's mother, and the mother of the house, nerved me to my task, and cautiously moving step by step through thegloom, I carried her safely to that white-haired, moonlit woman of stonein the long gallery. When I had ascended the steps and brought hersufficiently near, she put her arms about the statue, and pressed itsstony lips with hers. 

"Isarte, Isarte, how cold your lips are!" she murmured, in low, desponding tones. "Now, when I look into these eyes, which are yours, and yet not yours, and kiss these stony lips, how sorely does the hungerin my heart tempt me to sin! But suffering has not darkened my reason; Iknow it is an offense to ask anything of Him who gives us life and allgood things freely, and has no pleasure in seeing us miserable. Thisthought restrains me; else I would cry to Him to turn this stone toflesh, and for one brief hour to bring back to it the vanished spirit ofIsarte. For there is no one living that can understand my pain; but youwould understand it, and put my tired head against your breast, andcover me with your grief-whitened hair as with a mantle. For your painwas like mine, and exceeded mine, and no soul could measure it, therefore in the hunger of your heart you looked far off into thefuture, where some one would perhaps have a like affliction, and sufferwithout hope, as you suffered, and measure your pain, and love yourmemory, and feel united with you, even over the gulf of long centuriesof time. You would speak to me of it all, and tell me that the greatestgrief was to go away into darkness, leaving no one with your blood andyour spirit to inherit the house. This also is my grief, Isarte, for Iam barren and eaten up by death, and must soon go away to be where youare. When I am gone, the father of the house will take no other one tohis bosom, for he is old, and his life is nearly complete; and in alittle while he will follow me, but with no pain and anguish like mineto cloud his serene spirit. And who will then inherit our place? Ah, mysister, how bitter to think of it! for then a stranger will be themother of the house, and my one only child will sit at her feet, callingher mother, serving her with her hands, and loving and worshiping herwith her heart!"

The excitement had now burned itself out: she had dropped her headwearily on my shoulder, and bade me take her back. When I had safelydeposited her on the couch again, she remained for some minutes with herface covered, silently weeping. 

The scene in the gallery had deeply affected me; now, however, while Isat by her, pondering over it, my mind reverted to that vanished worldof sorrow and different social conditions in which I had lived, andwhere the lot of so many poor suffering souls seemed to me so much moredesolate than that of this unhappy lady, who had, I imagined, much toconsole her. It even seemed to me that the grief I had witnessed wassomewhat morbid and overstrained; and, thinking that it would perhapsdivert her mind from brooding too much over her own troubles, Iventured, when she had grown calm again, to tell her some of mymemories. I asked her to imagine a state of the world and the humanfamily, in which all women were, in one sense, on an equality--allpossessing the same capacity for suffering; and where all were, or wouldbe, wives and mothers, and without any such mysterious remedy againstlingering pain as she had spoken of. But I had not proceeded far with mypicture before she interrupted me. 

"Do not say more, " she said, with an accent of displeasure. "This, Isuppose, is another of those grotesque fancies you sometimes giveexpression to, about which I heard a great deal when you first came tous. That all people should be equal, and all women wives and mothersseems to me a very disordered and a very repulsive idea The oneconsolation in my pain, the one glory of my life could not exist in sucha state as that, and my condition would be pitiable indeed. All otherswould be equally miserable. The human race would multiply, until thefruits of the soil would be insufficient for its support; and earthwould be filled with degenerate beings, starved in body and debased inmind--all clinging to an existence utterly without joy. Life is dark tome, but not to others: these are matters beyond you, and it ispresumptuous in one of your condition to attempt to comfort me with idlefancies. "

After some moments of silence, she resumed: "The father has said to-daythat you came to us from an island where even the customs of the peopleare different from ours; and perhaps one of their unhappy methods is toseek to medicine a real misery by imagining some impossible andimmeasurably greater one. In no other way can I account for your strangewords to me; for I cannot believe that any race exists so debased asactually to practice the things you speak of. Remember that I do not askor desire to be informed. We have a different way; for although it isconceivable that present misery might be mitigated, or forgotten for aseason, by giving up the soul to delusions, even by summoning before themind repulsive and horrible images, that would be to put to an unlawfuluse, and to pervert, the brightest faculties our Father has given us:therefore we seek no other support in all sufferings and calamities butthat of reason only. If you wish for my affection, you will not speak ofsuch things again, but will endeavor to purify yourself from a mentalvice, which may sometimes, in periods of suffering, give you a falsecomfort for a brief season, only to degrade you, and sink you later in adeeper misery. You must now leave me. "

This unexpected and sharp rebuke did not anger me, but it made me verysad; for I now perceived plainly enough that no great advantage wouldcome to me from Chastel's acquaintance, since it was necessary to be sovery circumspect with her. Deeply troubled, and in a somewhat confusedstate of mind, I rose to depart. Then she placed her thin, feverishwhite hand on mine. "You need not go away again, " she said, "to indulgein bitter feelings by yourself because I have said this to you. You maycome with the others to see me and talk to me whenever I am able to sithere and bear it. I shall not remember your offense, but shall be gladto know that there is another soul in the house to love and honor me. "

With such comfort as these words afforded I returned to the music-room, and, finding it empty, went out to the terrace, where the others werenow strolling about in knots and couples, conversing and enjoying thelovely moonlight. Wandering a little distance away by myself, I sat downon a bench under a tree, and presently Yoletta came to me there, andclosely scrutinized my face. 

"Have you nothing to tell me?" she asked. "Are you happier now?"

"Yes, dearest, for I have been spoke to very kindly; and I should havebeen happier if only--" But I checked myself in time, and said no moreto her about my conversation with the mother. To myself I said: "Oh, that island, that island! Why can't I forget its miserable customs, or, at any rate, stick to my own resolution to hold my tongue about them?"

Chapter 14

From that day I was frequently allowed to enter the Mother's Room, but, as I had feared, these visits failed to bring me into any closerrelationship with the lady of the house. She had indeed forgotten myoffense: I was one of her children, sharing equally with the others inher impartial affection, and privileged to sit at her feet to relate toher the incidents of the day, or describe all I had seen, and sometimesto touch her thin white hand with my lips. But the distance separatingus was not forgotten. At the two first interviews she had taught me, once for all, that it was for me to love, honor, and serve her, and thatanything beyond that--any attempt to win her confidence, to enter intoher thoughts, or make her understand my feelings and aspirations--wasregarded as pure presumption on my part. The result was that I was lesshappy than I had been before knowing her: my naturally buoyant andhopeful temper became tinged with melancholy, and that vision ofexquisite bliss in the future, which had floated before me, luring meon, now began to look pale, and to seem further and further away. 

After my walk with Yoletta--if it can be called a walk--I began to lookout for the rainbow lilies, and soon discovered that everywhere underthe grass they were beginning to sprout from the soil. At first I foundthem in the moist valley of the river, but very soon they were equallyabundant on the higher lands, and even on barren, stony places, wherethey appeared latest. I felt very curious about these flowers, of whichYoletta had spoken so enthusiastically, and watched the slow growth ofthe long, slender buds from day to day with considerable impatience. Atlength, in a moist hollow of the forest, I was delighted to find thefull-blown flower. In shape it resembled a tulip, but was more open, andthe color a most vivid orange yellow; it had a slight delicate perfume, and was very pretty, with a peculiar waxy gloss on the thick petals, still, I was rather disappointed, since the name of "rainbow lily, " andYoletta's words, had led me to expect a many-colored flower ofsurpassing beauty. 

I plucked the lily carefully, and was taking it home to present it toher, when all at once I remembered that only on one occasion had I seenflowers in her hand, and in the hands of the others, and that was whenthey were burying their dead. They never wore a flower, nor had I everseen one in the house, not even in that room where Chastel was kept aprisoner by her malady, and where her greatest delight was to havenature in all its beauty and fragrance brought to her in theconversation of her children. The only flowers in the house were intheir illuminations, and those wrought in metal and carved in wood, andthe immortal, stony flowers of many brilliant hues in their mosaics. Ibegan to fear that there was some superstition which made it seem wrongto them to gather flowers, except for funeral ceremonies, and afraid ofoffending from want of thought, I dropped the lily on the ground, andsaid nothing about it to any one. 

Then, before any more open lilies were found, an unexpected sorrow cameto me. After changing my dress on returning from the fields oneafternoon, I was taken to the hall of judgment, and at once jumped tothe conclusion that I had again unwittingly fallen into disgrace; but onarriving at that uncomfortable apartment I perceived that this was notthe case. Looking round at the assembled company I missed Yoletta, andmy heart sank in me, and I even wished that my first impression hadproved correct. On the great stone table, before which the father wasseated, lay an open folio, the leaf displayed being only illuminated atthe top and inner margin; the colored part at the top I noticed wastorn, the rent extending down to about the middle of the page. 

Presently the dear girl appeared, with tearful eyes and flushed face, and advancing hurriedly to the father, she stood before him withdowncast eyes. 

"My daughter, tell me how and why you did this?" he demanded, pointingto the open volume. 

"Oh, father, look at this, " she returned, half-sobbing, and touching thelower end of the colored margin with her finger. "Do you see how badlyit is colored? And I had spent three days in altering and retouching it, and still it displeased me. Then, in sudden anger, I pushed the bookfrom me, and seeing it slipping from the stand I caught the leaf toprevent it from falling, and it was torn by the weight of the book. Oh, dear father, will you forgive me?"

"Forgive you, my daughter? Do you not know how it grieves my heart topunish you; but how can this offense to the house be forgiven, whichmust stand in evidence against us from generation to generation? For wecease to be, but the house remains; and the writing we leave on it, whether it be good or evil, that too remains for ever. An unkind word isan evil thing, an unkind deed a worse, but when these are repented theymay be forgiven and forgotten. But an injury done to the house cannot beforgotten, for it is the flaw in the stone that keeps its place, thecrude, inharmonious color which cannot be washed out with water. Consider, my daughter, in the long life of the house, how many unbornmen will turn the leaves of this book, and coming to this leaf will beoffended at so grievous a disfigurement! If we of this generation weredestined to live for ever, then it might be written on this page for apunishment and warning:" Yoletta tore it in her anger. "But we must passaway and be nothing to succeeding generations, and it would not be rightthat Yoletta's name should be remembered for the wrong she did to thehouse, and all she did for its good forgotten. "

A painful silence ensued, then, lifting her tear-stained face, she said:"Oh father, what must my punishment be?"

"Dear child, it will be a light one, for we consider your youth andimpulsive nature, and also that the wrong you did was partly the resultof accident. For thirty days you must live apart from us, subsisting onbread and water, and holding intercourse with one person only, who willassist you with your work and provide you with all things necessary. "

This seemed to me a harsh, even a cruel punishment for so trivial anoffense, or accident, rather; but she was not perhaps of the same mind, for she kissed his hand, as if in gratitude for his leniency. 

"Tell me, child, " he said, putting his hand on her head, and regardingher with misty eyes, "who shall attend you in your seclusion?"

"Edra, " she murmured; and the other, coming forward, took her by thehand and led her away. 

I gazed eagerly after her as she retired, hungering for one look fromher dear eyes before that long separation; but they were filled withtears and bent on the floor, and in a moment she was gone from sight. 

The succeeding days were to me dreary beyond description. For the firsttime I became fully conscious of the strength of a passion which had nowbecome a consuming fire in my breast, and could only end in uttermisery--perhaps in destruction--or else in a degree of happiness nomortal had ever tasted before. I went about listlessly, like one on whomsome heavy calamity has fallen: all interest in my work was lost; myfood seemed tasteless; study and conversation had become a weariness;even in those divine concerts, which fitly brought each tranquil day toits close, there was no charm now, since Yoletta's voice, which love hadtaught my dull ear to distinguish no longer had any part in it. I wasnot allowed to enter the Mother's Room of an evening now, and theexclusion extended also to the others, Edra only excepted; for at thishour, when it was customary for the family to gather in the music-room, Yoletta was taken from her lonely chamber to be with her mother. Thiswas told me, and I also elicited, by means of some roundaboutquestioning, that it was always in the mother's power to have anyper-son undergoing punishment taken to her, she being, as it were, abovethe law. She could even pardon a delinquent and set him free if she feltso minded, although in this case she had not chosen to exercise herprerogative, probably because her "sufferings had not clouded herunderstanding. " They were treating her very hardly--father and motherboth--I thought in my bitterness. 

The gradual opening of the rainbow lilies served only to remind me everyhour and every minute of that bright young spirit thus harshly deprivedof the pleasure she had so eagerly anticipated. She, above them all, rejoiced in the beauty of this visible world, regarding nature in someof its moods and aspects with a feeling almost bordering on adoration;but, alas! she alone was shut out from this glory which God had spreadover the earth for the delight of all his children. 

Now I knew why these autumnal flowers were called rainbow lilies, andremembered how Yoletta had told me that they gave a beauty to the earthwhich could not be described or imagined. The flowers were allundoubtedly of one species, having the same shape and perfume, althoughvarying greatly in size, according to the nature of the soil on whichthey grew. But in different situations they varied in color, one colorblending with, or passing by degrees into another, wherever the soilaltered its character. Along the valleys, where they first began tobloom, and in all moist situations, the hue was yellow, varying, according to the amount of moisture in different places, from paleprimrose to deep orange, this passing again into vivid scarlet and redsof many shades. On the plains the reds prevailed, changing into variouspurples on hills and mountain slopes; but high on the mountains thecolor was blue; and this also had many gradations, from the lower deepcornflower blue to a delicate azure on the summits, resembling that ofthe forget-me-not and hairbell. 

The weather proved singularly favorable to those who spent their time inadmiring the lilies, and this now seemed to be almost the onlyoccupation of the inmates, excepting, of course, sick Chastel, imprisoned Yoletta, and myself--I being too forlorn to admire anything. Calm, bright days without a cloud succeeded each other, as if the veryelements held the lilies sacred and ventured not to cast any shadow overtheir mystic splendor. Each morning one of the men would go out somedistance from the house and blow on a horn, which could be hearddistinctly two miles away; and presently a number of horses, in couplesand troops, would come galloping in, after which they would remain allthe morning grazing and gamboling about the house. These horses were nowin constant requisition, all the members of the family, male and female, spending several hours every day in careering over the surroundingcountry, seemingly without any particular object. The contagion did notaffect me, however, for, although I had always been a bold rider (in myown country), and excessively fond of horseback exercise, their fashionof riding without bridles, and on diminutive straw saddles, seemed to meneither safe nor pleasant. 

One morning after breakfasting, I took my ax, and was proceeding slowly, immersed in thought, to the forest, when hearing a slight swishing soundof hoofs on the grass, I turned and beheld the venerable father, mountedon his charger, and rushing away towards the hills at an insanelybreak-neck pace. His long garment was gathered tightly round his spareform, his feet drawn up and his head bent far forward, while the wind ofhis speed divided his beard, which flew out in two long streamersbehind. All at once he caught sight of me, and, touching the animal'sneck, swept gracefully round in narrowing circles, each circle bringinghim nearer, until he came to a stand at my side; then his horse beganrubbing his nose on my hand, its breath feeling like fire on my skin. 

"Smith, " said he, with a grave smile, "if you cannot be happy unless youare laboring in the forest with your ax you must proceed with yourwood-cutting; but I confess it surprises me as much to see you going towork on a day like this, as it would to see you walking inverted on yourhands, and dangling your heels in the air. "

"Why?" said I, surprised at this speech. 

"If you do not know I must tell you. At night we sleep; in the morningwe bathe; we eat when we are hungry, converse when we feel inclined, andon most days labor a certain number of hours. But more than thesethings, which have a certain amount of pleasure in them, are theprecious moments when nature reveals herself to us in all her beauty. Wegive ourselves wholly to her then, and she refreshes us; the splendorfades, but the wealth it brings to the soul remains to gladden us. Thatmust be a dull spirit that cannot suspend its toil when the sun issetting in glory, or the violet rainbow appears on the cloud. Every daybrings us special moments to gladden us, just as we have in the houseevery day our time of melody and recreation. But this supreme and moreenduring glory of nature comes only once every year; and while it lasts, all labor, except that which is pressing and necessary, is unseemly, andan offense to the Father of the world. " He paused, but I did not knowwhat to say in reply, and presently he resumed: "My son, there arehorses waiting for you, and unless you are more unlike us in mind than Iever imagined, you will now take one and ride to the hills, where, owingto the absence of forests, the earth can now be seen at its best. "

I was about to thank him and turn back, but the thought of Yoletta, towhom each heavy day now seemed a year, oppressed by heart, and Icontinued standing motionless, with downcast eyes, wishing, yet fearing, to speak. 

"Why is your mind troubled, my son?" he said kindly. 

"Father, " I answered, that word which I now ventured to use for thefirst time trembling from my lips, "the beauty of the earth is very muchto me, but I cannot help remembering that to Yoletta it is even more, and the thought takes away all my pleasure. The flowers will fade, andshe will not see them. "

"My son, I am glad to hear these words, " he answered, somewhat to mysurprise, for I had greatly feared that I had adopted too bold a course. "For I see now, " he continued, "that this seeming indifference, whichgave me some pain, does not proceed from an incapacity on your part tofeel as we do, but from a tender love and compassion--that most preciousof all our emotions, which will serve to draw you closer to us. I havealso thought much of Yoletta during these beautiful days, grieving forher, and this morning I have allowed her to go out into the hills, sothat during this day, at least, she will be able to share in ourpleasure. "

Scarcely waiting for another word to be spoken, I flew back to thehouse, anxious enough for a ride now. The little straw saddle seemed nowas comfortable as a couch, nor was the bridle missed; for, nerved withthat intense desire to find and speak to my love, I could have riddensecurely on the slippery back of a giraffe, charging over rough groundwith a pack of lions at its heels. Away I went at a speed never perhapsattained by any winner of the Derby, which made the shining hairs of myhorse's mane whistle in the still air; down valleys, up hills, flyinglike a bird over roaring burns, rocks, and thorny bushes, never pausinguntil I was far away among those hills where that strange accident hadbefallen me, and from which I had recovered to find the earth sochanged. I then ascended a great green hill, the top of which must havebeen over a thousand feet above the surrounding country. When I had atlength reached this elevation, which I did walking and climbing, mysteed docilely scrambling up after me, the richness and novelty of theunimaginable and indescribable scene which opened before me affected mein a strange way, smiting my heart with a pain intense and unfamiliar. For the first time I experienced within myself that miraculous power themind possesses of reproducing instantaneously, and without perspective, the events, feelings, and thoughts of long years--an experience whichsometimes comes to a person suddenly confronted with death, and in othermoments of supreme agitation. A thousand memories and a thousandthoughts were stirring in me: I was conscious now, as I had not beenbefore, of the past and the present, and these two existed in my mind, yet separated by a great gulf of time--a blank and a nothingness whichyet oppressed me with its horrible vastness. How aimless and solitary, how awful my position seemed! It was like that of one beneath whose feetthe world suddenly crumbles into ashes and dust, and is scatteredthroughout the illimitable void, while he survives, blown to some farplanet whose strange aspect, however beautiful, fills him with anundefinable terror. And I knew, and the knowledge only intensified mypain, that my agitation, the strugglings of my soul to recover that lostlife, were like the vain wing-beats of some woodland bird, blown away athousand miles over the sea, into which it must at last sink down andperish. 

Such a mental state cannot endure for more than a few moments, andpassing away, it left me weary and despondent. With dull, joyless eyes Icontinued gazing for upwards of an hour on the prospect beneath me; forI had now given up all hopes of seeing Yoletta, not yet havingencountered a single person since starting for my ride. All about me thesummit was dotted with small lilies of a delicate blue, but at a littledistance the sober green of the grass became absorbed, as it were, inthe brighter flower-tints, and the neighboring summits all appeared of apure cerulean hue. Lower down this passed into the purples of the slopesand the reds of the plains, while the valleys, fringed with scarlet, were like rivers of crocus-colored fire. Distance, and the light, autumnal haze, had a subduing and harmonizing effect on the sea ofbrilliant color, and further away on the immense horizon it all fadedinto the soft universal blue. Over this flowery paradise my eyeswandered restlessly, for my heart was restless in me, and had lost thepower of pleasure. With a slight bitterness I recalled some of the wordsthe father had spoken to me that morning. It was all very well, Ithought, for this venerable graybeard to talk about refreshing the soulwith the sight of all this beauty; but he seemed to lose sight of theimportant fact that there was a considerable difference in ourrespective ages, that the raging hunger of the heart, which he haddoubtless experienced at one time of his life, was, like bodily hunger, not to be appeased with splendid sunsets, rainbows and rainbow lilies, however beautiful they might seem to the eye. 

Presently, on a second and lower summit of the long mountain I hadascended, I caught sight of a person on horseback, standing motionlessas a figure of stone. At that distance the horse looked no bigger than agreyhound, yet so marvelously transparent was the mountain air, that Idistinctly recognized Yoletta in the rider. I started up, and sprangjoyfully onto my own horse, and waving my hand to attract her attention, galloped recklessly down the slope; but when I reached the opposingsummit she was no longer there, nor anywhere in sight, and it was as ifthe earth had opened and swallowed her. 

Chapter 15

During Yoletta's seclusion, my education was not allowed to suffer, herplace as instructress having been taken by Edra. I was pleased with thisarrangement, thinking to derive some benefit from it, beyond what shemight teach me; but very soon I was forced to abandon all hope ofcommunicating with the imprisoned girl through her friend and jailer. Edra was much disturbed at the suggestion; for I did venture to suggestit, though in a tentative, roundabout form, not feeling sure of myground: previous mistakes had made me cautious. Her manner was asufficient warning; and I did not broach the subject a second time. Oneafternoon, however, I met with a great and unexpected consolation, though even this was mixed with some perplexing matters. 

One day, after looking long and earnestly into my face, said my gentleteacher to me; "Do you know that you are changed? All your gay spiritshave left you, and you are pale and thin and sad. Why is this?"

My face crimsoned at this very direct question, for I knew of thatchange in me, and went about in continual fear that others wouldpresently notice it, and draw their own conclusions. She continuedlooking at me, until for very shame I turned my face aside; for if I hadconfessed that separation from Yoletta caused my dejection, she wouldknow what that feeling meant, and I feared that any such prematuredeclaration would be the ruin of my prospects. 

"I know the reason, though I ask you, " she continued, placing a hand onmy shoulder. "You are grieving for Yoletta--I saw it from the first. Ishall tell her how pale and sad you have grown--how different from whatyou were. But why do you turn your face from me?"

I was perplexed, but her sympathy gave me courage, and made medetermined to give her my confidence. "If you know, " said I, "that I amgrieving for Yoletta, can you not also guess why I hesitate and hide myface from you?"

"No; why is it? You love me also, though not with so great a love; butwe _do_ love each other, Smith, and you can confide in me?"

I looked into her face now, straight into her transparent eyes, and itwas plain to see that she had not yet guessed my meaning. 

"Dearest Edra, " I said, taking her hand, "I love you as much as if onemother had given us birth. But I love Yoletta with a different love--notas one loves a sister. She is more to me than any one else in the world;so much is she that life without her would be a burden. Do you not knowwhat that means?" And then, remembering Yoletta's words on the hills, Iadded: "Do you not know of more than one kind of love?"

"No, " she answered, still gazing inquiringly into my face. "But I knowthat your love for her so greatly exceeds all others, that it is like adifferent feeling. I shall tell her, since it is sweet to be loved, andshe will be glad to know it. "

"And after you have told her, Edra, shall you make known her reply tome?"

"No, Smith; it is an offense to suggest, or even to think, such a thing, however much you may love her, for she is not allowed to converse withany one directly or through me. She told me that she saw you on thehills, and that you tried to go to her, and it distressed her very much. But she will forgive you when I have told her how great your love is, that the desire to look on her face made you forget how wrong it was toapproach her. "

How strange and incomprehensible it seemed that Edra had somisinterpreted my feeling! It seemed also to me that they all, from thefather of the house downwards, were very blind indeed to set down sostrong an emotion to mere brotherly affection. I had wished, yet feared, to remove the scales from their eyes; and now, in an unguarded moment, Ihad made the attempt, and my gentle confessor had failed to understandme. Nevertheless, I extracted some comfort from this conversation; forYoletta would know how greatly my love exceeded that of her own kindred, and I hoped against hope that a responsive emotion would at last awakenin her breast. 

When the last of those leaden-footed thirty days arrived--the day onwhich, according to my computation, Yoletta would recover liberty beforethe sun set--I rose early from the straw pallet where I had tossed allnight, prevented from sleeping by the prospect of reunion, and the feverof impatience I was in. The cold river revived me, and when we wereassembled in the breakfast-room I observed Edra watching me, with acurious, questioning smile on her lips. I asked her the reason. 

"You are like a person suddenly recovered from sickness, " she replied. "Your eyes sparkle like sunshine on the water, and your cheeks that wereso pallid yesterday burn redder than an autumn leaf. " Then, smiling, sheadded these precious words: "Yoletta will be glad to return to us, moreon your account than her own. "

After we had broken our fast, I determined to go to the forest and spendthe day there. For many days past I had shirked woodcutting; but now itseemed impossible for me to settle down to any quiet, sedentary kind ofwork, the consuming impatience and boundless energy I felt making mewish for some unusually violent task, such as would exhaust the body andgive, perhaps, a rest to the mind. Taking my ax, and the usual smallbasket of provisions for my noonday meal, I left the house; and on thismorning I did not walk, but ran as if for a wager, taking long, flyingleaps over bushes and streams that had never tempted me before. Arrivedat the scene of action, I selected a large tree which had been markedout for felling, and for hours I hacked at it with an energy almostsuperhuman; and at last, before I had felt any disposition to rest, thetowering old giant, bowing its head and rustling its sere foliage as ifin eternal farewell to the skies, came with a mighty crash to the earth. Scarcely was it fallen before I felt that I had labored too long andviolently: the dry, fresh breeze stung my burning cheeks like needles ofice, my knees trembled under me, and the whole world seemed to spinround; then, casting myself upon a bed of chips and withered leaves, Ilay gasping for breath, with only life enough left in me to wonderwhether I had fainted or not. Recovered at length from this exhaustedcondition, I sat up, and rejoiced to observe that half the day--thatlast miserable day--had already flown. Then the thoughts of theapproaching evening, and all the happiness it would bring, inspired mewith fresh zeal and strength, and, starting to my feet, and taking nothought of my food, I picked up the ax and made a fresh onslaught on thefallen tree. I had already accomplished more than a day's work, but thefever in my blood and brain urged me on to the arduous task of loppingoff the huge branches; and my exertions did not cease until once morethe world, with everything on it, began revolving like a whirligig, compelling me to desist and take a still longer rest. And sitting thereI thought only of Yoletta. How would she look after that long seclusion?Pale, and sad too perhaps; and her sweet, soulful eyes--oh, would I nowsee in them that new light for which I had watched and waited so long?

Then, while I thus mused, I heard, not far off, a slight rustling sound, as of a hare startled at seeing me, and bounding away over the witheredleaves; and lifting up my eyes from the ground, I beheld Yoletta herselfhastening towards me, her face shining with joy. I sprang forward tomeet her, and in another moment she was locked in my arms. That onemoment of unspeakable happiness seemed to out-weigh a hundred times allthe misery I had endured. "Oh, my sweet darling--at last, at last, mypain is ended!" I murmured, while pressing her again and again to myheart, and kissing that dear face, which looked now so much thinner thanwhen I had last seen it. 

She bent back her head, like Genevieve in the ballad, to look me in theface, her eyes filled with tears--crystal, happy drops, which dimmed nottheir brightness. But her face was pale, with a pensive pallor like thatof the _Gloire de Dijon_ rose; only now excitement had suffused hercheeks with the tints of that same rose--that red so unlike the bloom onother faces in vanished days; so tender and delicate and precious aboveall tints in nature!

"I know, " she spoke, "how you were grieving for me, that you were paleand dejected. Oh, how strange you should love me so much!"

"Strange, darling--that word again! It is the one sweetness and joy oflife. And are you not glad to be loved?"

"Oh, I cannot tell you how glad; but am I not here in your arms to showit? When I heard that you had gone to the wood I did not wait, but ranhere as fast as I could. Do you remember that evening on the hill, whenyou vexed me with questions, and I could not understand your words? Now, when I love you so much more, I can understand them better. Tell me, have I not done as you wished, and given myself to you, body and soul?How thirty days have changed you! Oh, Smith, do you love me so much?"

"I love you so much, dear, that if you were to die, there would be nomore pleasure in life for me, and I should prefer to lie near youunderground. All day long I am thinking of you, and when I sleep you arein all ray dreams. "

She still continued gazing into my face, those happy tears still shiningin her eyes, listening to my words; but alas! on that sweet, beautifulface, so full of changeful expression, there was not the expression Isought, and no sign of that maidenly shame which gave to Genevieve inthe ballad such an exquisite grace in her lover's eyes. 

"I also had dreams of you, " she answered. "They came to me after Edrahad told me how pale and sad you had grown. "

"Tell me one of your dreams, darling. "

"I dreamed that I was lying awake on my bed, with the moon shining onme; I was cold, and crying bitterly because I had been left so longalone. All at once I saw you standing at my side in the moonlight. 'PoorYoletta, ' you said, 'your tears have chilled you like winter rain. ' Thenyou kissed them dry, and when you had put your arms about me, I drewyour face against my bosom, and rested warm and happy in your love. "

Oh, how her delicious words maddened me! Even my tongue and lipssuddenly became dry as ashes with the fever in me, and could onlywhisper huskily when I strove to answer. I released her from my arms andsat down on the fallen tree, all my blissful raptures turned to a greatdespondence. Would it always be thus--would she continue to embrace me, and speak words that simulated passion while no such feeling touched herheart? Such a state of things could not endure, and my passion, mockedand baffled again and again, would rend me to pieces, and hurl me on tomadness and self-destruction. For how many men had been driven by loveto such an end, and the women they had worshiped, and miserably diedfor, compared with Yoletta, were like creatures of clay compared withone of the immortals. And was she not a being of a higher order thanmyself? It was folly to think otherwise. But how had mortals alwaysfared when they aspired to mate with celestials? I tried then toremember something bearing on this important point, but my mind wasbecoming strangely confused. I closed my eyes to think, and presentlyopening them again, saw Yoletta kneeling before me, gazing up into myface with an alarmed expression. 

"What is the matter, Smith, you seem ill?" she said; and then, layingher fresh palm on my forehead, added: "Your head burns like fire. "

"No wonder, " I returned. "I'm worrying my brains trying to remember allabout them. What were their names, and what did they do to those wholoved them--can't you tell me?"

"Oh, you are ill--you have a fever and may die!" she exclaimed, throwingher arms about my neck and pressing her cheek to mine. 

I felt a strange imbecility of mind, yet it seemed to anger me to betold that I was ill. "I am not ill, " I protested feebly. "I never feltbetter in my life! But can't you answer me--who were they, and what didthey do? Tell me, or I shall go mad. "

She started up, and taking the small metal whistle hanging at her side, blew a shrill note that seemed to pierce my brain like a steel weapon. Itried to get up from my seat on the trunk, but only slipped down to theground. A dull mist and gloom seemed to be settling down on everything;daylight, and hope with it, was fast forsaking the world. But somethingwas coming to us--out of that universal mist and darkness closing aroundus it came bounding swiftly through the wood--a huge gray wolf! No, nota wolf--a wolf was nothing to it! A mighty, roaring lion crashingthrough the forest; a monster ever increasing in size, vast and ofhorrible aspect, surpassing all monsters of the imagination--all beasts, gigantic and deformed, that had ever existed in past geologic ages; alion with teeth like elephants' tusks, its head clothed as with a blackthunder-cloud, through which its eyes glared like twin, blood-red suns!And she--my love--with a cry on her lips, was springing forth to meetit--lost, lost for ever! I struggled frantically to rise and fly to herassistance, and rose, after many efforts, to my knees, only to fallagain to the earth, insensible. 

Chapter 16

The violent fever into which I had fallen did not abate until the thirdday, when I fell into a profound slumber, from which I woke refreshedand saved. I did not, on awakening, find myself in my own familiar cell, but in a spacious apartment new to me, on a comfortable bed, besidewhich Edra was seated. Almost my first feeling was one of disappointmentat not seeing Yoletta there, and presently I began to fear that in theravings of delirium I had spoken things which had plucked the scalesfrom the eyes of my kind friends in a very rough way indeed, and thatthe being I loved best had been permanently withdrawn from my sight. Itwas a blessed relief when Edra, in answer to the questions I put withsome heart-quakings to her, informed me that I had talked a great dealin my fever, but unintelligibly, continually asking questions aboutVenus, Diana, Juno, and many other persons whose names had never beforebeen heard in the house. How fortunate that my crazy brain had thuscontinued vexing itself with this idle question! She also told me thatYoletta had watched day and night at my side, that at last, when thefever left me, and I had fallen into that cooling slumber, she too, withher hand on mine, had dropped her head on the pillow and fallen asleep. Then, without waking her, they had carried her away to her own room, andEdra had taken her place by my side. 

"Have you nothing more to ask?" she said at length, with an accent ofsurprise. 

"No; nothing more. What you have told me has made me very happy--whatmore can I wish to know?"

"But there is more to tell you, Smith. We know now that your illness isthe result of your own imprudence; and as soon as you are well enough toleave your room and bear it, you must suffer the punishment. "

"What! Punished for being ill!" I exclaimed, sitting bolt upright in mybed. "What do you mean, Edra? I never heard such outrageous nonsense inmy life!"

She was disturbed at this outburst, but quietly and gravely repeatedthat I must certainly be punished for my illness. 

Remembering what their punishments were, I had the prospect of a secondlong separation from Yoletta, and the thought of such excessiveseverity, or rather of such cruel injustice, made me wild. "By Heaven, Ishall not submit to it!" I exclaimed. "Punished for being ill--who everheard of such a thing! I suppose that by-and-by it will be discoveredthat the bridge of my nose is not quite straight, or that I can't seeround the corner, and that also will be set down as a crime, to beexpiated in solitary confinement, on a bread-and-water diet! No, youshall not punish me; rather than give in to such tyranny I'll walk offand leave the house for ever!"

She regarded me with an expression almost approaching to horror on hergentle face, and for some moments made no reply. Then I remembered thatif I carried out that insane threat I should indeed lose Yoletta, andthe very thought of such a loss was more than I could endure; and for amoment I almost hated the love which made me so helpless andmiserable--so powerless to oppose their stupid and barbarous practices. It would have been sweet then to have felt free--free to fling them acurse, and go away, shaking the dust of their house from my shoes, supposing that any dust had adhered to them. 

Then Edra began to speak again, and gravely and sorrowfully, but withouta touch of austerity in her tone or manner, censured me for making useof such irrational language, and for allowing bitter, resentful thoughtsto enter my heart. But the despondence and sullen rage into which I hadbeen thrown made me proof even against the medicine of an admonitionimparted so gently, and, turning my face away, I stubbornly refused tomake any reply. For a while she was silent, but I misjudged her when Iimagined that she would now leave me, offended, to my own reflections. 

"Do you not know that you are giving me pain?" she said at last, drawinga little closer to me. "A little while ago you told me that you lovedme: has that feeling faded so soon, or do you take any pleasure inwounding those you love?"

Her words, and, more than her words, her tender, pleading tone, piercedme with compunction, and I could not resist. "Edra, my sweet sister, donot imagine such a thing!" I said. "I would rather endure manypunishments than give you pain. My love for you cannot fade while I havelife and understanding. It is in me like greenness in the leaf--thatbeautiful color which can only be changed by sere decay. "

She smiled forgiveness, and with a humid brightness in her eyes, whichsomehow made me think of that joy of the angels over one sinner thatrepenteth, bent down and touched her lips to mine. "How can you love anyone more than that, Smith?" she said. "Yet you say that your love forYoletta exceeds all others. "

"Yes, dear, exceeds all others, as the light of the sun exceeds that ofthe moon and the stars. Can you not understand that--has no man everloved you with a love like that, my sister?"

She shook her head and sighed. Did she not understand my meaningnow--had not my words brought back some sweet and sorrowful memory? Withher hands folded idly on her lap, and her face half averted, she satgazing at nothing. It seemed impossible that this woman, so tender andso beautiful, should never have experienced in herself or witnessed inanother, the feeling I had questioned her about. But she made no furtherreply to my words; and as I lay there watching her, the drowsy spiritthe fever had left in me overcame my brain, and I slept once more. 

For several days, which brought me so little strength that I was notpermitted to leave the sick-room, I heard nothing further about mypunishment, for I purposely refrained from asking any questions, and noperson appeared inclined to bring forward so disagreeable a subject. Atlength I was pronounced well enough to go about the house, althoughstill very feeble, and I was conducted, not to the judgment-room, whereI had expected to be taken, but to the Mother's Room; and there I foundthe father of the house, seated with Chastel, and with them seven oreight of the others. They all welcomed me, and seemed glad to see me outagain; but I could not help remarking a certain subdued, almost solemnair about them, which seemed to remind me that I was regarded as anoffender already found guilty, who had now been brought up to receivejudgment. 

"My son, " said the father, addressing me in a calm, judicial tone whichat once put my last remaining hopes to flight, "it is a consolation tous to know that your offense is of such a nature that it cannot diminishour esteem for you, or loosen the bonds of affection which unite you tous. You are still feeble, and perhaps a little confused in mindconcerning the events of the last few days: I do not therefore press youto give an account of them, but shall simply state your offense, and ifI am mistaken in any particular you shall correct me. The great love youhave for Yoletta, " he continued--and at this I started and blushedpainfully, but the succeeding words served to show that I had only toolittle cause for alarm--"the great love you have for Yoletta caused youmuch suffering during her thirty days' seclusion from us, so that youlost all enjoyment of life, and eating little, and being in continualdejection, your strength was much diminished. On the last day you wereso much excited at the prospect of reunion with her, that you went toyour task in the woods almost fasting, and probably after spending arestless night. Tell me if this is not so?"

"I did not sleep that night, " I replied, somewhat huskily. 

"Unrefreshed by sleep and with lessened strength, " he continued, "youwent to the woods, and in order to allay that excitement in your mind, you labored with such energy that by noon you had accomplished a taskwhich, in another and calmer condition of mind and body, would haveoccupied you more than one day. In thus acting you had already beenguilty of a serious offense against yourself; but even then you mighthave escaped the consequences if, after finishing your work, you hadrested and refreshed yourself with food and drink. This, however, youneglected to do; for when you had fallen insensible to the earth, andYoletta had called the dog and sent it to the house to summonassistance, the food you had taken with you was found untasted in thebasket. Your life was thus placed in great peril; and although it isgood to lay life down when it has become a burden to ourselves andothers, being darkened by that failure of power from which there is norecovery, wantonly or carelessly to endanger it in the flower of itsstrength and beauty is a great folly and a great offense. Consider howdeep our grief would have been, especially the grief of Yoletta, if thisculpable disregard of your own safety and well-being had ended fatally, as it came so near ending! It is therefore just and righteous that anoffense of such a nature should be recompensed; but it is a lightoffense, not like one committed against the house, or even againstanother person, and we also remember the occasion of it, since it was nounworthy motive, but exceeding love, which clouded your judgment, andtherefore, taking all these things into account, it was my intention toput you away from us for the space of thirteen days. "

Here he paused, as if expecting me to make some reply. He had reprovedme so gently, even approving of the emotion, although still entirely inthe dark as to its meaning, which had caused my illness, that I was madeto feel very submissive, and even grateful to him. 

"It is only just, " I replied, "that I should suffer for my fault, andyou have tempered justice with more mercy than I deserve. "

"You speak with the wisdom of a chastened spirit, my son, " he said, rising and placing his hand on my head; "and your words gladden me allthe more for knowing that you were filled with surprise and resentmentwhen told that your offense was one deserving punishment. And now, myson, I have to tell you that you will not be separated from us, for themother of the house has willed that your offense shall be pardoned. "

I looked in surprise at Chastel, for this was very unexpected: she wasgazing at my face with the light of a strange tenderness in her eyes, never seen there before. She extended her hand, and, kneeling beforeher, I took it in mine and raised it to my lips, and tried, with poorsuccess, to speak my thanks for this rare and beautiful act of mercy. Then the others surrounded me to express their congratulations, the menpressing my hands, but not so the women, for they all freely kissed me;but when Yoletta, coming last, put her white arms about my neck andpressed her lips to mine, the ecstasy I felt was so greatly overbalancedby the pain of my position, and the thought, now almost a conviction, that I was powerless to enlighten them with regard to the nature of thelove I felt for her, that I almost shrank from her dear embrace. 

Chapter 17

My attack of illness, although sharp, had passed off so quickly that Iconfidently looked to complete restoration to my former vigorous stateof health in a very short time. Nevertheless, many days went by, and Ifailed to recover strength, but remained pretty much in that conditionof body in which I had quitted the sick-room. This surprised anddistressed me at first, but in a little time I began to get reconciledto such a state, and even to discover that it had certain advantages, the chief of which was that the tumult of my mind was over for a season, so that I craved for nothing very eagerly. My friends advised me to dono work; but not wishing to eat the bread of idleness--although thebread was little now, as I had little appetite--I made it a rule to goevery morning to the workhouse, and occupy myself for two or three hourswith some light, mechanical task which put no strain on me, physical ormental. Even this playing at work fatigued me. Then, after changing mydress, I would repair to the music-room to resume my search after hiddenknowledge in any books that happened to be there; for I could read now, a result which my sweet schoolmistress had been the first to see, and atonce she had abandoned the lessons I had loved so much, leaving me towander at will, but without a guide, in that wilderness of a strangeliterature. I had never been to the library, and did not even know inwhat part of the house it was situated; nor had I ever expressed a wishto see it. And that for two reasons: one was, that I had alreadyhalf-resolved--my resolutions were usually of that complexion--never torun the risk of appearing desirous of knowing too much; the other andweightier reason was, that I had never loved libraries. They oppress mewith a painful sense of my mental inferiority; for all those tens ofthousands of volumes, containing so much important but unappreciatedmatter, seem to have a kind of collective existence, and to look down onme, like a man with great, staring, owlish eyes, as an intruder onsacred ground--a barbarian, whose proper place is in the woods. It is amere fancy, I know, but it distresses me, and I prefer not to put myselfin the way of it. Once in a book I met with a scornful passage aboutpeople with "bodily constitutions like those of horses, and smallbrains, " which made me blush painfully; but in the very next passage thewriter makes amends, saying that a man ought to think himself well offif, in the lottery of life, he draws the prize of a healthy stomachwithout a mind, that it is better than a fine intellect with a crazystomach. I had drawn the healthy stomach--liver, lungs, and heart tomatch--and had never felt dissatisfied with my prize. Now, however, itseemed expedient that I should give some hours each day to reading; forso far my conversations and close intimacy with the people of the househad not dissipated the cloud of mystery in which their customs were hid;and by customs I here refer to those relating to courtship and matrimonyonly, for that was to me the main thing. The books I read, or dippedinto, were all highly interesting, especially the odd volumes I lookedat belonging to that long series on the _Houses of the World_, forthese abounded in marvelous and entertaining matter. There were alsohistories of the house, and works on arts, agriculture, and variousother subjects, but they were not what I wanted. After three or fourhours spent in these fruitless researches, I would proceed to theMother's Room, where I was now permitted to enter freely everyafternoon, and when there, to remain as long as I wished. It was sopleasant that I soon dropped into the custom of remaining untilsupper-time compelled me to leave it, Chastel invariably treating me nowwith a loving tenderness of manner which seemed strange when I recalledthe extremely unfavorable impression I had made at our first interview. 

It was never my nature to be indolent, or to love a quiet, dreamyexistence: on the contrary, my fault had lain in the opposite direction, unlimited muscular exercise being as necessary to my well-being as freshair and good food, and the rougher the exercise the better I liked it. But now, in this novel condition of languor, I experienced a wonderfulrestfulness both of body and mind, and in the Mother's Room, resting asif some weariness of labor still clung to me, breathing and steeped inthat fragrant, summer-like atmosphere, I had long intervals of perfectinactivity and silence, while I sat or reclined, not thinking but in areverie, while many dreams of pleasures to come drifted in a vague, vaporous manner through my brain. The very character of the room--itsdelicate richness, the exquisitely harmonious disposition of colors andobjects, and the illusions of nature produced on the mind--seemed tolend itself to this unaccustomed mood, and to confirm me in it. 

The first impression produced was one of brightness: coming to it by wayof the long, dim sculpture gallery was like passing out into the openair, and this effect was partly due to the white and crystal surfacesand the brilliancy of the colors where any color appeared. It wasspacious and lofty, and the central arched or domed portion of the roof, which was of a light turquoise blue, rested on graceful columns ofpolished crystal. The doors were of amber-colored glass set in agateframes; but the windows, eight in number, formed the principalattraction. On the glass, hill and mountain scenery was depicted, thesummits in some of them appearing beyond wide, barren plains, whitenedwith the noonday splendor and heat of midsummer, untempered by a cloud, the soaring peaks showing a pearly luster which seemed to remove them toan infinite distance. To look out, as it were, from the imitation shadeof such an arbor, or pavilion, over those far-off, sun-lit expanseswhere the light appeared to dance and quiver as one gazed, was anever-failing delight. Such was its effect on me, combined with that ofthe mother's new tender graciousness, resulting I knew not whether fromcompassion or affection, that I could have wished to remain a permanentinvalid in her room. 

Another cause of the mild kind of happiness I now experienced was theconsciousness of a change in my own mental disposition, which made meless of an alien in the house; for I was now able, I imagined, toappreciate the beautiful character of my friends, their crystal purityof heart and the religion they professed. Far back in the old days I hadheard, first and last, a great deal about sweetness and light andPhilistines, and not quite knowing what this grand question was allabout, and hearing from some of my friends that I was without thequalities they valued most, I thereafter proclaimed myself a Philistine, and was satisfied to have the controversy ended in that way, so far asit concerned me personally. Now, however, I was like one to whom someimportant thing has been told, who, scarcely hearing and straightwayforgetting, goes about his affairs; but, lying awake at night in thesilence of his chamber, recalls the unheeded words and perceives theirfull significance. My sojourn with this people--angelic women andmild-eyed men with downy, unrazored lips, so mild in manner yet in theirarts "laying broad bases for eternity"--above all the invalid hoursspent daily in the Mother's Room, had taught me how unlovely a creatureI had been. It would have been strange indeed if, in such an atmosphere, I had not absorbed a little sweetness and light into my system. 

In this sweet refuge--this slumberous valley where I had been cast up bythat swift black current that had borne me to an immeasurable distanceon its bosom, and with such a change going on within me--I sometimesthought that a little more and I would touch that serene, enduring blisswhich seemed to be the normal condition of my fellow-inmates. My passionfor Yoletta now burned with a gentle flame, which did not consume, butonly imparted an agreeable sense of warmth to the system. When she wasthere, sitting with me at her mother's feet, sometimes so near that herdark, shining hair brushed against my cheek, and her fragrant breathcame on my face; and when she caressed my hand, and gazed full at mewith those dear eyes that had no shadow of regret or anxiety in them, but only unfathomable love, I could imagine that our union was alreadycomplete, that she was altogether and eternally mine. 

I knew that this could not continue. Sometimes I could not prevent mythoughts from flying away from the present; then suddenly the complexionof my dream would change, darkening like a fair landscape when a cloudobscures the sun. Not forever would the demon of passion slumber anddream in my breast; with recovered strength it would wake again, and, ever increasing in power and ever baffled of its desire, would raiseonce more that black tempest of that past to overwhelm me. Other darkervisions followed: I would see myself as in a magic glass, lying withupturned, ghastly face, with many people about me, hurrying to and fro, wringing their hands and weeping aloud with grief, shuddering at theabhorred sight of blood on their sacred, shining floors; or, worsestill, I saw myself shivering in sordid rags and gaunt with long-lastingfamine, a fugitive in some wintry, desolate land, far from all humancompanionship, the very image of Yoletta scorched by madness to formlessashes in my brain; and for all sensations, feelings, memories, thoughts, nothing left to me but a distorted likeness of the visible world, and aterrible unrest urging me, as with a whip of scorpions, ever on and on, to ford yet other black, icy torrents, and tear myself bleeding throughyet other thorny thickets, and climb the ramparts of yet other gigantic, barren hills. 

But these moments of terrible depression, new to my life, wereinfrequent, and seldom lasted long. Chastel was my good angel; a word, atouch from her hand, and the ugly spirits would vanish. She appeared topossess a mysterious faculty--perhaps only the keen insight and sympathyof a highly spiritualized nature--which informed her of much that waspassing in my heart: if a shadow came there when she had no wish orstrength to converse, she would make me draw close to her seat, and resther hand on mine, and the shadow would pass from me. 

I could not help reflecting often and wonderingly at this great changein her manner towards me. Her eyes dwelt lovingly on me, and her keenestsuffering, and the unfortunate blundering expressions I frequently letfall, seemed equally powerless to wring one harsh or impatient word fromher. I was not now only one among her children, privileged to come andsit at her feet, to have with them a share in her impartial affection;and remembering that I was a stranger in the house, and compared butpoorly with the others, the undisguised preference she showed for me, and the wish to have me almost constantly with her, seemed a greatmystery. 

One afternoon, as I sat alone with her, she made the remark that myreading lessons had ceased. 

"Oh yes, I can read perfectly well now, " I answered. "May I read to youfrom this book?" Saying which, I put my hand towards a volume lying onthe couch at her side. It differed from the other books I had seen, inits smaller size and blue binding. 

"No, not in this book, " she said, with a shade of annoyance in hervoice, putting out her hand to prevent my taking it. 

"Have I made another mistake?" I asked, withdrawing my hand. "I am veryignorant. "

"Yes, poor boy, you are very ignorant, " she returned, placing her handon my forehead. "You must know that this is a mother's book, and only amother may read in it. "

"I am afraid, " I said, with a sigh, "that it will be a long time beforeI cease to offend you with such mistakes. "

"There is no occasion to say that, for you have not offended me, onlyyou make me feel sorry. Every day when you are with me I try to teachyou something, to smooth the path for you; but you must remember, myson, that others cannot feel towards you as I do, and it may come topass that they will sometimes be offended with you, because their loveis less than mine. "

"But why do you care so much for me?" I asked, emboldened by her words. "Once I thought that you only of all in the house would never love me:what has changed your feelings towards me, for I know that they havechanged?" She looked at me, smiling a little sadly, but did not reply. "I think I should be happier for knowing, " I resumed, caressing herhand. "Will you not tell me?"

There was a strange trouble on her face as her eyes glanced away andthen returned to mine again, while her lips quivered, as if withunspoken words. Then she answered: "No, I cannot tell you now. It wouldmake you happy, perhaps, but the proper time has not yet arrived. Youmust be patient, and learn, for you have much to learn. It is my desirethat you should know all those things concerning the family of which youare ignorant, and when I say all, I mean not only those suitable to onein your present condition, as a son of the house, but also those highermatters which belong to the heads of the house--to the father andmother. "

Then, casting away all caution, I answered: "It is precisely a knowledgeof those greater matters concerning the family which I have beenhungering after ever since I came into the house. "

"I know it, " she returned. "This hunger you speak of was partly thecause of your fever, and it is in you, keeping you feverish and feeblestill; but for this, instead of being a prisoner here, you would now beabroad, feeling the sun and wind on your face. "

"And if you know that, " I pleaded, "why do you not now impart theknowledge that can make me whole? For surely, all those lessermatters--those things suitable for one in my condition to know--can belearned afterwards, in due time. For they are not of pressingimportance, but the other is to me a matter of life and death, if youonly knew it. "

"I know everything, " she returned quickly. But a cloud had come over herface at my concluding words, and a startled look into her eyes. "Lifeand death! do you know what you are saying?" she exclaimed, fixing hereyes on me with such intense earnestness in them that mine fell abashedbefore their gaze. Then, after a while, she drew my head down againsther knees, and spoke with a strange tenderness. "Do you then find it sohard to exercise a little patience, my son, that you do not acquiesce inwhat I say to you, and fear to trust your future in my hands? My time isshort for all that I have to do, yet I also must be patient and wait, although for me it is hardest. For now your coming, which I did notregard at first, seeing in you only a pilgrim like others--one whothrough accidents of travel had been cast away and left homeless in theworld, until we found and gave you shelter--now, it has broughtsomething new into my life: and if this fresh hope, which is only anold, perished hope born again, ever finds fulfillment, then death willlose much of its bitterness. But there are difficulties in the way whichonly time, and the energy of a soul that centers all its faculties inone desire, one enterprise, can overcome. And the chief difficulty Ifind is in yourself--in that strange, untoward disposition so oftenrevealed in your conversation, which you have shown even now; for to bethus questioned and pressed, and to have my judgment doubted, would havegreatly offended me in another. Remember this, and do not abuse theprivilege you enjoy: remember that you must greatly change before I canshare with you the secrets of my heart that concern you. And bear inmind, my son, that I am not rebuking you for a want of knowledge; for Iknow that for many deficiencies you are not blameworthy. I know, forinstance, that nature has denied to you that melodious and flexiblevoice in which it is our custom every day to render homage to theFather, to express all the sacred feelings of our hearts, all our lovefor each other, the joy we have in life, and even our griefs andsorrows. For grief is like a dark, oppressive cloud, until from lip andhand it breaks in the rain of melody, and we are lightened, so that eventhe things that are painful give to life a new and chastened glory. Andas with music, so with all other arts. There is a twofold pleasure incontemplating our Father's works: in the first and lower kind you sharewith us; but the second and more noble, springing from the first, isours through that faculty by means of which the beauty and harmony ofthe visible world become transmuted in the soul, which is like a pencilof glass receiving the white sunbeam into itself, and changing it tored, green, and violet-colored light: thus nature transmutes itself inour minds, and is expressed in art. But in you this second faculty iswanting, else you would not willingly forego so great a pleasure as itsexercise affords, and love nature like one that loves his fellow-man, but has no words to express so sweet a feeling. For the happiness oflove with sympathy, when made known and returned, is increased anhundredfold; and in all artistic work we commune not with blind, irrational nature, but with the unseen spirit which is in nature, inspiring our hearts, returning love for love, and rewarding our laborwith enduring bliss. Therefore it is your misfortune, not your fault, that you are deprived of this supreme solace and happiness. "

To this speech, which had a depressing effect on me, I answered sadly:"Every day I feel my deficiencies more keenly, and wish more ardently tolessen the great distance between us; but now--sweet mother, forgive mefor saying it!--your words almost make me despond. "

"And yet, my son, I have spoken only to encourage you. I know yourlimitations, and expect nothing beyond your powers; nor do your errorsgreatly trouble me, believing as I do that in time you will be able todismiss them from your mind. But the temper of your mind must be changedto be worthy of the happiness I have designed for you. Patience mustchasten that reckless spirit in you; for feverish diligence, alternatingwith indifference or despondence, there must be unremitting effort; andfor that unsteady flame of hope, which burns so brightly in the morningand in the evening sings so low, there must be a bright, unwavering, andrational hope. It would be strange indeed if after this you were castdown; and, lest you forget anything, I will say again that only bygiving you enduring happiness and the desire of your heart can my onehope be fulfilled. Consider how much I say to you in these words; itsaddens me to think that so much was necessary. And do not think hardlyof me, my son, for wishing to keep you a little longer in this prisonwith me: for in a little while your weakness will pass away like amorning cloud. But for me there shall come no change, since I mustremain day and night here with the shadow of death; and when I am takenforth, and the sunshine falls once more on my face, I shall not feel it, and shall not see it, and I shall lie forgotten when you are in themidst of your happy years. "

Her words smote on my heart with a keen pain of compassion. "Do not saythat you will be forgotten!" I exclaimed passionately; "for should yoube taken away, I shall still love and worship your memory, as I worshipyou now when you are alive. "

She caressed my hand, but did not speak; and when I looked up, her wornface had dropped on the pillow, and her eyes were closed. "I amtired--tired, " she murmured. "Stay with me a little longer, but leave meif I sleep. "

And in a little while she slept. The light was on her face, resting onthe purple pillow, and with the soulful eyes closed, and the lips thathad no red color of life in them also closed and motionless, it was likea face carved in ivory of one who had suffered like Isarte in the houseand perished long generations ago; and the abundant dark, lusterlesshair that framed it, looked dead too, and of the color of wrought iron. 

Chapter 18

Chastel's words sank deep in my heart--deeper than words had ever sunkbefore into that somewhat unpromising soil; and although she hadpurposely left me in the dark with regard to many important matters, Inow resolved to win her esteem, and bind her yet more closely to me bycorrecting those faults in my character she had pointed out with so muchtenderness. 

Alas! the very next day was destined to bring me a sore trouble. Onentering the breakfast-room I became aware that a shadow had fallen onthe house. Among his silent people the father sat with gray, haggardface and troubled eyes; then Yoletta entered, her sweet face lookingpaler than when I had first seen it after her long punishment, whileunder her heavy, drooping eyelids her skin was stained with thatmournful purple which tells of a long vigil and a heart oppressed withanxiety. I heard with profound concern that Chastel's malady hadsuddenly become aggravated; that she had passed the night in thegreatest suffering. What would become of me, and of all those brightdreams of happiness, if she were to die? was my first idea. But at thesame time I had the grace to feel ashamed of that selfish thought. Nevertheless, I could not shake off the gloom it had produced in me, and, too distressed in mind to work or read, I repaired to the Mother'sRoom, to be as near as possible to the sufferer on whose recovery somuch now depended. How lonely and desolate it seemed there, now that shewas absent! Those mountain landscapes, glowing with the white radianceof mimic sunshine, still made perpetual summer; yet there seemed to be awintry chill and death-like atmosphere which struck to the heart, andmade me shiver with cold. The day dragged slowly to its close, and norest came to the sufferer, nor sign of improvement to relieve ouranxiety. Until past midnight I remained at my post, then retired forthree or four miserable, anxious hours, only to return once more when itwas scarcely light. Chastel's condition was still unchanged, or, ifthere had been any change, it was for the worse, for she had not slept. Again I remained, a prey to desponding thoughts, all day in the room;but towards evening Yoletta came to take me to her mother. The summonsso terrified me that for some moments I sat trembling and unable toarticulate a word; for I could not but think that Chastel's end wasapproaching. Yoletta, however, divining the cause of my agitation, explained that her mother could not sleep for torturing pains in herhead, and wished me to place my hand on her forehead, to try whetherthat would cause any relief. This seemed to me a not very promisingremedy; but she told me that on former occasions they had oftensucceeded in procuring her ease by placing a hand on her forehead, andthat having failed now, Chastel had desired them to call me to her totry my hand. I rose, and for the first time entered that sacred chamber, where Chastel was lying on a low bed placed on a slightly raisedplatform in the center of the floor. In the dim light her face lookedwhite as the pillow on which it rested, her forehead contracted withsharp pain, while low moans came at short intervals from her twitchinglips; but her wide-open eyes were fixed on my face from the moment Ientered the room, and to me they seemed to express mental anguish ratherthan physical suffering. At the head of the bed sat the father, holdingher hand in his; but when I entered he rose and made way for me, retiring to the foot of the bed, where two of the women were seated. Iknelt beside the bed, and Yoletta raised and tenderly placed my righthand on the mother's forehead, and, after whispering to me to let itrest very gently there, she also withdrew a few paces. 

Chastel did not speak, but for some minutes continued her low, piteousmoanings, only her eyes remained fixed on my face; and at last, becominguneasy at her scrutiny, I said in a whisper: "Dearest mother, do youwish to say anything to me?"

"Yes, come nearer, " she replied; and when I had bent my cheek close toher face, she continued: "Do not fear, my son; I shall not die. I cannotdie until that of which I have spoken to you has been accomplished. "

I rejoiced at her words, yet, at the same time, they gave me pain; forit seemed as though she knew how much my heart had been troubled by thatignoble fear. 

"Dear mother, may I say something?" I asked, wishing to tell her of myresolutions. 

"Not now; I know what you wish to say, " she returned. "Be patient andhopeful always, and fear nothing, even though we should be long divided;for it will be many days before I can leave this room to speak with youagain. "

So softly had she whispered, that the others who stood so near were notaware that she had spoken at all. 

After this brief colloquy she closed her eyes, but for some time the lowmoans of pain continued. Gradually they sank lower, and became less andless frequent, while the lines of pain faded out of her white, death-like face. And at length Yoletta, stealing softly to my side, whispered, "She is sleeping, " and withdrawing my hand, led me away. 

When we were again in the Mother's Room she threw her arms about my neckand burst into a tempest of tears. 

"Dearest Yoletta, be comforted, " I said, pressing her to my breast; "shewill not die. "

"Oh, Smith, how do you know?" she returned quickly, looking up with hereyes still shining with large drops. 

Then, of Chastel's whispered words to me, I repeated those four, "Ishall not die, " but nothing more; they were however, a great relief toher, and her sweet, sorrowful face brightened like a drooping flowerafter rain. 

"Ah, she knew, then, that the touch of your hand would cause sleep, thatsleep would save her, " she said, smiling up at me. 

"And you, my darling, how long is it since you closed those sweeteyelids that seem so heavy?"

"Not since I slept three nights ago. "

"Will you sit by me here, resting your head on me, and sleep a littlenow?"

"Not there!" she cried quickly. "Not on the mother's couch. But if youwill sit here, it will be pleasant if I can sleep for a little while, resting on you. "

I placed myself on the low seat she led me to, and then, when she hadcoiled herself up on the cushions, with her arms still round my neck, and her head resting on my bosom, she breathed a long happy sigh, anddropped like a tired child to sleep. 

How perfect my happiness would have been then, with Yoletta in my arms, clasping her weary little ministering hands in mine, and tenderlykissing her dark, shining hair, but for the fear that some person mightcome there to notice and disturb me. And pretty soon I was startled tosee the father himself coming from Chastel's chamber to us. Catchingsight of me he paused, smiling, then advanced, and deliberately sat downby my side. 

"This one is sleeping also, " he said cheerfully, touching the girl'shair with his hand. "But you need not fear, Smith; I think we shall beable to talk very well without waking her. "

I had feared something quite different, if he had only known it, andfelt considerably relieved by his words; nevertheless, I was notover-pleased at the prospect of a conversation just then, and shouldhave preferred being left alone with my precious burden. 

"My son, " he continued, placing a hand on my shoulder, "I sometimesrecall, not without a smile, the effect your first appearance producedon us, when we were startled at your somewhat grotesque pilgrim costume. Your attempts at singing, and ignorance of art generally, also impressedme unfavorably, and gave me some concern when I thought about thefuture--that is, _your_ future; for it seemed to me that you hadbut slender foundations whereon to build a happy life. These doubts, however, no longer trouble me; for on several occasions you have shownus that you possess abundantly that richest of all gifts and safestguide to happiness--the capacity for deep affection. To this spirit oflove in you--this summer of the heart which causes it to blossom withbeautiful thoughts and deeds--I attribute your success just now, whenthe contact of your hand produced the long-desired, refreshing slumberso necessary to the mother at this stage of her malady. I know that thisis a mysterious thing; and it is commonly said that in such cases reliefis caused by an emanation from the brain through the fingers. Doubtlessthis is so; and I also choose to believe that only a powerful spirit oflove in the heart can rightly direct this subtle energy, that where sucha spirit is absent the desired effect cannot be produced. "

"I do not know, " I replied. "Great as my love and devotion is, I cannotsuppose it to equal, much less to surpass, that of others who yet failedon this occasion to give relief. "

"Yes, yes; only that is looking merely at the surface of the matter, andleaving out of sight the unfathomable mysteries of a being compounded offlesh and spirit. There are among our best instruments peculiar to thishouse, especially those used chiefly in our harvest music, some of suchfinely-tempered materials, and of so delicate a construction, that theperson wishing to perform on them must not only be inspired with themelodious passion, but the entire system--body and soul--must be in theproper mood, the flesh itself elevated into harmony with the exaltedspirit, else he will fail to elicit the tones or to give the expressiondesired. This is a rough and a poor simile, when we consider howwonderful an instrument a human being is, with the body that burns withthought, and the spirit that quivers and cries with pain, and when wethink how its innumerable, complex chords may be injured and untuned bysuffering. The will may be ours, but something, we know not what, interposes to defeat our best efforts. That you have succeeded inproducing so blessed a result, after we had failed, has served to deepenand widen in our hearts the love we already felt for you; for how muchmore precious is this melody of repose, this sweet interval of relieffrom cruel pain the mother now experiences, than many melodies fromclear voices and trained hands. "

In my secret heart I believed that he was taking much too lofty a viewof the matter; but I had no desire to argue against so flattering adelusion, if it were one, and only wished that I could share it withhim. 

"She is sleeping still, " he said presently, "perhaps without pain, likeYoletta here, and her sleep will now probably last for some hours. "

"I pray Heaven that she may wake refreshed and free from pain, " Iremarked. 

He seemed surprised at my words, and looked searchingly into my face. "My son, " he said, "it grieves me, at a moment like the present, to haveto point out a great error to you; but it is an error hurtful toyourself and painful to those who see it, and if I were to pass it overin silence, or put off speaking of it to another time, I should not befulfilling the part of a loving father towards you. "

Surprised at this speech, I begged him to tell me what I had said thatwas wrong. 

"Do you not then know that it is unlawful to entertain such a thought asyou have expressed?" he said. "In moments of supreme pain or bitternessor peril we sometimes so far forget ourselves as to cry out to Heaven tosave us or to give us ease; but to make any such petition when we are inthe full possession of our faculties is unworthy of a reasonable being, and an offense to the Father: for we pray to each other, and are movedby such prayers, remembering that we are fallible, and often err throughhaste and forgetfulness and imperfect knowledge. But he who freely gaveus life and reason and all good gifts, needs not that we should remindhim of anything; therefore to ask him to give us the thing we desire isto make him like ourselves, and charge him with an oversight; or worse, we attribute weakness and irresolution to him, since the petitionerthinks my importunity to incline the balance in his favor. "

I was about to reply that I had always considered prayer to be anessential part of religion, and not of my form of religion only, but ofall religions all over the world. Luckily I remembered in time that heprobably knew more about matters "all over the world" than I did, and soheld my tongue. 

"Have you any doubts on the subject?" he asked, after a while. 

"I must confess that I still have some doubts, " I replied. "I believethat our Creator and Father desires the happiness of all his creaturesand takes no pleasure in seeing us miserable; for it would be impossiblenot to believe it, seeing how greatly happiness overbalances misery inthe world. But he does not come to us in visible form to tell us in anaudible voice that to cry out to him in sore pain and distress isunlawful. How, then, do we know this thing? For a child cries to itsmother, and a fledgling in the nest to its parent bird; and he isinfinitely more to us than parent to child--infinitely stronger to help, and knows our griefs as no fellow-mortal can know them. May we not, then, believe, without hurt to our souls, that the cry of one of hischildren in affliction may reach him; that in his compassion, and bymeans of his sovereign power over nature, he may give ease to the rackedbody, and peace and joy to the desolate mind?"

"You ask me, How, then, do we know this thing? and you answer thequestion yourself, yet fail to perceive that you answer it, when you saythat although he does not come in a visible form to teach us this thingand that thing, yet we know that he desires our happiness; and to thisyou might have added a thousand or ten thousand other things which weknow. If the reason he gave us to start with makes it unnecessary thathe should come to tell us in an audible voice that he desires ourhappiness, it must also surely suffice to tell us which are lawful andwhich unlawful of all the thoughts continually rising in our hearts. That any one should question so evident and universally accepted atruth, the foundation of all religion, seems very surprising to me. Ifit had consisted with his plan to make these delicate mortal bodiescapable of every agreeable sensation in the highest degree, yet notliable to accident, and not subject to misery and pain, he would surelyhave done this for all of us. But reason and nature show us that such anend did not consist with his plan; therefore to ask him to suspend theoperations of nature for the benefit of any individual sufferer, howeverpoignant and unmerited the sufferings may be, is to shut our eyes to theonly light he has given us. All our highest and sweetest feelings unitewith reason to tell us with one voice that he loves us; and ourknowledge of nature shows us plainly enough that he also loves all thecreatures inferior to man. To us he has given reason for a guide, andfor the guidance and protection of the lower kinds he has giveninstinct: and though they do not know him, it would make us doubt hisimpartial love for all his creatures, if we, by making use of ourreason, higher knowledge, and articulate speech, were able to call downbenefits on ourselves, and avert pain and disaster, while the dumb, irrational brutes suffered in silence--the languishing deer that leavesthe herd with a festering thorn in its foot; the passage bird blown fromits course to perish miserably far out at sea. "

His conclusions were perhaps more logical than mine; nevertheless, although I could not argue the matter any more with him, I was not yetprepared to abandon this last cherished shred of old beliefs, althoughperhaps not cherished for its intrinsic worth, but rather because it hadbeen given to me by a sweet woman whose memory was sacred to myheart--my mother before Chastel. 

Fortunately, it was not necessary to continue the discussion any longer, for at this juncture one of the watchers from the sick-room came toreport that the mother was still sleeping peacefully, hearing which, thefather rose to seek a little needful rest in an adjoining room. Beforegoing, however, he proposed, with mistaken kindness, to relieve me of myburden, and place the girl without waking her on a couch. But I wouldnot consent to have her disturbed; and finally, to my great delight, they left her still in my arms, the father warmly pressing my hand, andadvising me to reflect well on his words concerning prayer. 

It was growing dark now, and how welcome that obscurity seemed, whilewith no one nigh to see or hear I kissed her soft tresses a hundredtimes, and murmured a hundred endearing words in her sleeping ears. 

Her waking, which gave me a pang at first, afforded me in the end astill greater bliss. 

"Oh, how dark it is--where am I?" she exclaimed, starting suddenly fromrepose. 

"With me, sweetest, " I said. "Do you not remember going to sleep on mybreast?"

"Yes; but oh, why did you not wake me sooner? My mother--my mother--"

"She is still quietly sleeping, dearest. Ah, I wish you also hadcontinued sleeping! It was such a delight to have you in my arms. "

"My love!" she said, laying her soft cheek against mine. "How sweet itwas to fall asleep in your arms! When we came in here I could scarcelysay a word, for my heart was too full for speech; and now I have ahundred things to say. After all, I should only finish by giving you akiss, which is more eloquent than speech; so I shall kiss you at once, and save myself the trouble of talking so much. "

"Say one of the hundred things, Yoletta. "

"Oh, Smith, before this evening I did not think that I could love youmore; and sometimes, when I recalled what I once said to you--on thehill, do you remember?--it seemed to me that I already loved you alittle too much. But now I am convinced that I was mistaken, for athousand offenses could not alienate my heart, which is all yoursforever. "

"Mine for ever, without a doubt, darling?" I murmured, holding heragainst my breast; and in my rapture almost forgetting that this angelicaffection she lavished on me would not long satisfy my heart. 

"Yes, for ever, for you shall never, never leave the house. Yourpilgrimage, from which you derived so little benefit, is over now. Andif you ever attempt to go forth again to find out new wonders in theworld, I shall clasp you round with my arms, as I do now, and keep youprisoner against your will; and if you say 'Farewell' a hundred times tome, I shall blot out that sad word every time with my lips, and put abetter one in its place, until my word conquers yours. "

Chapter 19

Although deprived for the present of all intercourse with Chastel andYoletta, now in constant attendance on her mother, I ought to have beenhappy, for all things seemed conspiring to make my life precious to me. Nevertheless, I was far from happy; and, having heard so much said aboutreason in my late conversations with the father and mother of the house, I began to pay an unusual amount of attention to this faculty in me, inorder to discover by its aid the secret of the sadness which continuedat all times during this period to oppress my heart. I only discovered, what others have discovered before me, that the practice ofintrospection has a corrosive effect on the mind, which only serves toaggravate the malady it is intended to cure. During those restful daysin the Mother's Room, when I had sat with Chastel, this spirit ofmelancholy had been with me; but the mother's hallowing presence hadgiven something of a divine color to it, my passions had slumbered, and, except at rare intervals, I had thought of sorrow as of something at animmeasurable distance from me. Then to my spirit

 "_The gushing of the wave Far, far away, did seem to mourn and rave On alien shores_";

and so sweet had seemed that pause, that I had hoped and prayed for itscontinuance. No sooner was I separated from her than the charmdissolved, and all my thoughts, like evening clouds that appear luminousand rich in color until the sun has set, began to be darkened with amysterious gloom. Strive how I might, I was unable to compose my mind tothat serene, trustful temper she had desired to see in me, and withoutwhich there could be no blissful futurity. After all the admonitions andthe comforting assurances I had received, and in spite of reason and allit could say to me, each night I went to my bed with a heavy heart; andeach morning when I woke, there, by my pillow, waited that sad phantom, to go with me where I went, to remind me at every pause of an implacableFate, who held my future in its hands, who was mightier than Chastel, and would shatter all her schemes for my happiness like vessels ofbrittle glass. 

Several days--probably about fifteen, for I did not count them--hadpassed since I had been admitted into the mother's sleeping-room, whenthere came an exceedingly lovely day, which seemed to bring to me apleasant sensation of returning health, and made me long to escape frommorbid dreams and vain cravings. Why should I sit at home and mope, Ithought; it was better to be active: sun and wind were full of healing. Such a day was in truth one of those captain jewels "that seldom placedare" among the blusterous days of late autumn, with winter alreadypresent to speed its parting. For a long time the sky had been overcastwith multitudes and endless hurrying processions of wild-lookingclouds--torn, wind-chased fugitives, of every mournful shade of color, from palest gray to slatey-black; and storms of rain had been frequent, impetuous, and suddenly intermitted, or passing away phantom-liketowards the misty hills, there to lose themselves among other phantoms, ever wandering sorrowfully in that vast, shadowy borderland where earthand heaven mingled; and gusts of wind which, as they roared by over athousand straining trees and passed off with hoarse, volleying sounds, seemed to mimic the echoing thunder. And the leaves--the millions andmyriads of sere, cast-off leaves, heaped ankle-deep under the desolategiants of the wood, and everywhere, in the hollows of the earth, lyingsilent and motionless, as became dead, fallen things--suddenly catching amock fantastic life from the wind, how they would all be up andstirring, every leaf with a hiss like a viper, racing, many thousands ata time, over the barren spaces, all hurriedly talking together in theirdead-leaf language! until, smitten with a mightier gust, they would risein flight on flight, in storms and stupendous, eddying columns, whirledup to the clouds, to fall to the earth again in showers, and freckle thegrass for roods around. Then for a moment, far off in heavens, therewould be a rift, or a thinning of the clouds, and the sunbeams, strikinglike lightning through their ranks, would illumine the pale blue mist, the slanting rain, the gaunt black boles and branches, glittering withwet, casting a momentary glory over the ocean-like tumult of nature. 

In the condition I was in, with a relaxed body and dejected mind, thistempestuous period, which would have only afforded fresh delight to aperson in perfect health, had no charm for my spirit; but, on thecontrary, it only served to intensify my gloom. And yet day after day itdrew me forth, although in my weakness I shivered in the rough gale, andshrank from the touch of the big cold drops the clouds flung down on me. It fascinated me, like the sight of armies contending in battle, or ofsome tragic action from which the spectator cannot withdraw his gaze. For I had become infected with strange fancies, so persistent and somberthat they were like superstitions. It seemed to me that not I but naturehad changed, that the familiar light had passed like a kindly expressionfrom her countenance, which was now charged with an awful menacing gloomthat frightened my soul. Sometimes, when straying alone, like an unquietghost among the leafless trees, when a deeper shadow swept over theearth, I would pause, pale with apprehension, listening to the manydirge-like sounds of the forest, ever prophesying evil, until in mytrepidation I would start and tremble, and look to this side and tothat, as if considering which way to fly from some unimaginable calamitycoming, I knew not from where, to wreck my life for ever. 

This bright day was better suited to my complaint. The sun shone as inspring; not a stain appeared on the crystal vault of heaven; everywherethe unfailing grass gave rest to the eye with its verdure; and a lightwind blew fresh and bracing in my face, making my pulses beat faster, although feebly still. Remembering my happy wood-cutting days, before mytrouble had come to me, I got my ax and started to walk to the wood;then seeing Yoletta watching my departure from the terrace, I waved myhand to her. Before I had gone far, however, she came running to me, full of anxiety, to warn me that I was not yet strong enough for suchwork. I assured her that I had no intention of working hard and tiringmyself, then continued my walk, while she returned to attend on hermother. 

The day was so bright with sunshine that it inspired me with a kind ofpassing gladness, and I began to hum snatches of old half-rememberedsongs. They were songs of departing summer, tinged with melancholy, andsuggested other verses not meant for singing, which I began repeating. 

 "Rich flowers have perished on the silent earth-- Blossoms of valley and of wood that gave A fragrance to the winds. "

And again:

 "The blithesome birds have sought a sunnier shore; They lingered till the cold cold winds went in And withered their green homes. "

And these also were fragments, breathing only of sadness, which made meresolve to dismiss poetry from my mind and think of nothing at all. Itried to interest myself in a flight of buzzard-like hawks, soaring inwide circles at an immense height above me. Gazing up into that far bluevault, under which they moved so serenely, and which seemed so infinite, I remembered how often in former days, when gazing up into such a sky, Ihad breathed a prayer to the Unseen Spirit; but now I recalled the wordsthe father of the house had spoken to me, and the prayer died unformedin my heart, and a strange feeling of orphanhood saddened me, andbrought my eyes to earth again. 

Half-way to the wood, on an open reach where there were no trees orbushes, I came on a great company of storks, half a thousand of them atleast, apparently resting on their travels, for they were all standingmotionless, with necks drawn in, as if dozing. They were very stately, handsome birds, clear gray in color, with a black collar on the neck, and red beak and legs. My approach did not disturb them until I waswithin twenty yards of the nearest--for they were scattered over an acreof ground; then they rose with a loud, rustling noise of wings, only tosettle again at a short distance off. 

Incredible numbers of birds, chiefly waterfowl, had appeared in theneighborhood since the beginning of the wet, boisterous weather; theriver too was filled with these new visitors, and I was told that mostof them were passengers driven from distant northern regions, which theymade their summer home, and were now flying south in search of a warmerclimate. 

All this movement in the feathered world had, during my troubled days, brought me as little pleasure as the other changes going on about me:those winged armies ever hurrying by in broken detachments, wailing andclanging by day and by night in the clouds, white with their own terror, or black-plumed like messengers of doom, to my distempered fancy onlyadded a fresh element of fear to a nature racked with disorders, andfull of tremendous signs and omens. 

The interest with which I now remarked these pilgrim storks seemed to mea pleasant symptom of a return to a saner state of mind, and beforecontinuing my walk I wished that Yoletta had been there with me to seethem and tell me their history; for she was curious about such matters, and had a most wonderful affection for the whole feathered race. She hadher favorites among the birds at different seasons, and the kind shemost esteemed now had been arriving for over a month, their numbersincreasing day by day until the woods and fields were alive with theirflocks. 

This kind was named the cloud-bird, on account of its starling-likehabit of wheeling about over its feeding-ground, the birds throwingthemselves into masses, then scattering and gathering again many times, so that when viewed at a distance a large flock had the appearance of acloud, growing dark and thin alternately, and continually changing itsform. It was somewhat larger than a starling, with a freer flight, andhad a richer plumage, its color being deep glossy blue, or blue-black, and underneath bright chestnut. When close at hand and in the brightsunshine, the aerial gambols of a flock were beautiful to witness, asthe birds wheeled about and displayed in turn, as if moved by oneimpulse, first the rich blue, then the bright chestnut surfaces to theeye. The charming effect was increased by the bell-like, chirping notesthey all uttered together, and as they swept round or doubled in the airat intervals came these tempests of melodious sound--a most perfectexpression of wild jubilant bird-life. Yoletta, discoursing in the mostdelightful way about her loved cloud-birds, had told me that they spentthe summer season in great solitary marshes, where they built theirnests in the rushes; but with cold weather they flew abroad, and at suchtimes seemed always to prefer the neighborhood of man, remaining ingreat flocks near the house until the next spring. On this bright sunnymorning I was amazed at the multitudes I saw during my walk: yet it wasnot strange that birds were so abundant, considering that there were nolonger any savages on the earth, with nothing to amuse their vacantminds except killing the feathered creatures with their bows and arrows, and no innumerable company of squaws clamorous for trophies--unchristianwomen of the woods with painted faces, insolence in their eyes, and forornaments the feathered skins torn from slain birds on their heads. 

When I at length arrived at the wood, I went to that spot where I hadfelled the large tree on the occasion of my last and disastrous visit, and where Yoletta, newly released from confinement, had found me. Therelay the rough-barked giant exactly as I had left it, and once more Ibegan to hack at the large branches; but my feeble strokes seemed tomake little impression, and becoming tired in a very short time, Iconcluded that I was not yet equal to such work, and sat myself down torest. I remembered how, when sitting on that very spot, I had heard aslight rustling of the withered leaves, and looking up beheld Yolettacoming swiftly towards me with outstretched arms, and her face shiningwith joy. Perhaps she would come again to me to-day: yes, she wouldsurely come when I wished for her so much; for she had followed me outto try to dissuade me from going to the woods, and would be anxiouslythinking about me; and she could spare an hour from the sick-room now. The trees and bushes would prevent me from seeing her approach, but Ishould hear her, as I had heard her before. I sat motionless, scarcelybreathing, straining my sense to catch the first faint sound of herlight, swift step; and every time a small bird, hopping along theground, rustled a withered leaf, I started up to greet and embrace her. But she did not come; and at last, sick at heart with hope deferred, Icovered my face with my hands, and, weak with misery, cried like adisappointed child. 

Presently something touched me, and, removing my hands from my face, Isaw that great silver-gray dog which had come to Yoletta's call when Ifainted, sitting before me with his chin resting on my knees. No doubthe remembered that last wood-cutting day very well, and had come to takecare of me now. 

"Welcome, dear old friend!" said I; and in my craving for sympathy ofsome kind I put my arms over him, and pressed my face against his. ThenI sat up again, and gazed into the pair of clear brown eyes watching myface so gravely. 

"Look here, old fellow, " said I, talking audibly to him for want ofsomething in human shape to address, "you didn't lick my face just nowwhen you might have done so with impunity; and when I speak to you, youdon't wag that beautiful bushy tail which serves you for ornament. Thisreminds me that you are not like the dogs I used to know--the dogs thattalked with their tails, caressed with their tongues, and were neverover-clean or well-behaved. Where are they now--collies, rat-worryingterriers, hounds, spaniels, pointers, retrievers--dogs rough and dogssmooth; big brute boarhounds, St. Bernard's, mastiffs, nearly or quiteas big as you are, but not so slender, silky-haired, and sharp-nosed, and without your refined expression of keenness without cunning. Andafter these canine noblemen of the old _regime_, whither hasvanished the countless rabble of mongrels, curs, and pariah dogs; andlast of all--being more degenerate--the corpulent, blear-eyed, wheezypet dogs of a hundred breeds? They are all dead, no doubt: they havebeen dead so long that I daresay nature extracted all the valuable saltsthat were contained in their flesh and bones thousands of years ago, andused it for better things--raindrops, froth of the sea, flowers andfruit, and blades of grass. Yet there was not a beast in all that crewof which its master or mistress was not ready to affirm that it could doeverything but talk! No one says that of you, my gentle guardian; fordog-worship, with all the ten thousand fungoid cults that sprang up andflourished exceedingly in the muddy marsh of man's intellect, haswithered quite away, and left no seed. Yet in intelligence you are, Ifancy, somewhat ahead of your far-off progenitors: long use has alsogiven you something like a conscience. You are a good, sensible beast, that's all. You love and serve your master, according to your lights;night and day, you, with your fellows, guard his flocks and herds, hishouse and fields. Into his sacred house, however, you do not intrudeyour comely countenance, knowing your place. "

"What, then, happened to earth, and how long did that undreaming slumberlast from which I woke to find things so altered? I do not know, nordoes it matter very much. I only know that there has been a sort ofmighty Savonarola bonfire, in which most of the things once valued havebeen consumed to ashes--politics, religions, systems of philosophy, ismsand ologies of all descriptions; schools, churches, prisons, poorhouses;stimulants and tobacco; kings and parliaments; cannon with its hostileroar, and pianos that thundered peacefully; history, the press, vice, political economy, money, and a million things more--all consumed likeso much worthless hay and stubble. This being so, why am I notoverwhelmed at the thought of it? In that feverish, full age--so full, and yet, my God, how empty!--in the wilderness of every man's soul, wasnot a voice heard crying out, prophesying the end? I know that a thoughtsometimes came to me, passing through my brain like lightning throughthe foliage of a tree; and in the quick, blighting fire of thatintolerable thought, all hopes, beliefs, dreams, and schemes seemedinstantaneously to shrivel up and turn to ashes, and drop from me, andleave me naked and desolate. Sometimes it came when I read a book ofphilosophy; or listened on a still, hot Sunday to a dull preacher--theywere mostly dull--prosing away to a sleepy, fashionable congregationabout Daniel in the lions' den, or some other equally remote matter; orwhen I walked in crowded thoroughfares; or when I heard some greatpolitician out of office--out in the cold, like a miserable working-manwith no work to do--hurling anathemas at an iniquitous government; andsometimes also when I lay awake in the silent watches of the night. Alittle while, the thought said, and all this will be no more; for wehave not found out the secret of happiness, and all our toil and effortis misdirected; and those who are seeking for a mechanical equivalent ofconsciousness, and those who are going about doing good, are alikewasting their lives; and on all our hopes, beliefs, dreams, theories, and enthusiasms, 'Passing away' is written plainly as the _Mene, mene, tekel, upharsin_ seen by Belshazzar on the wall of his palace inBabylon. "

"That withering thought never comes to me now. 'Passing away' is notwritten on the earth, which is still God's green footstool; the grasswas not greener nor the flowers sweeter when man was first made out ofclay, and the breath of life breathed into his nostrils. And the humanfamily and race--outcome of all that dead, unimaginable past--this alsoappears to have the stamp of everlastingness on it; and in its tranquilpower and majesty resembles some vast mountain that lifts its head abovethe clouds, and has its granite roots deep down in the world's center. Afeeling of awe is in me when I gaze on it; but it is vain to ask myselfnow whether the vanished past, with its manifold troubles and transitorydelights, was preferable to this unchanging peaceful present. I care fornothing but Yoletta; and if the old world was consumed to ashes that shemight be created, I am pleased that it was so consumed; for nobler thanall perished hopes and ambitions is the hope that I may one day wearthat bright, consummate flower on my bosom. "

"I have only one trouble now--a wolf that follows me everywhere, alwaysthreatening to rend me to pieces with its black jaws. Not you, oldfriend--a great, gaunt, man-eating, metaphorical wolf, far more terriblethan that beast of the ancients which came to the poor man's door. Inthe darkness its eyes, glowing like coals, are ever watching me, andeven in the bright daylight its shadowy form is ever near me, stealingfrom bush to bush, or from room to room, always dogging my footsteps. Will it ever vanish, like a mere phantom--a wolf of the brain--or willit come nearer and more near, to spring upon and rend me at the last? Ifthey could only clothe my mind as they have my body, to make me likethemselves with no canker at my heart, ever contented and calmly glad!But nothing comes from taking thought. I am sick of thought--I hate it!Away with it! I shall go and look for Yoletta, since she does not cometo me. Good-by, old friend, you have been well-behaved and listened withconsiderable patience to a long discourse. It will benefit you about asmuch as I have been benefited by many a lecture and many a sermon I wascompelled to listen to in the old vanished days. "

Bestowing another caress on him I got up and went back to the house, thinking sadly as I walked that the bright weather had not yet greatlyimproved my spirits. 

Chapter 20

Arrived at the house I was again disappointed at not seeing Yoletta; yetwithout reasonable cause, since it was scarcely past midday, and shecame out from attending on her mother only at long intervals--in themorning, and again just before evening--to taste the freshness of naturefor a few minutes. 

The music-room was deserted when I went there; but it was made warm andpleasant by the sun shining brightly in at the doors opening to thesouth. I went on to the extreme end of the room, remembering now that Ihad seen some volumes there when I had no time or inclination to look atthem, and I wanted something to read; for although I found reading veryirksome at this period, there was really little else I could do. I foundthe books--three volumes--in the lower part of an alcove in the wall;above them, within a niche in the alcove, on a level with my face as Istood there, I observed a bulb-shaped bottle, with a long thin neck, very beautifully colored. I had seen it before, but without payingparticular attention to it, there being so many treasures of its kind inthe house; now, seeing it so closely, I could not help admiring itsexquisite beauty, and feeling puzzled at the scene depicted on it. Inthe widest part it was encircled with a band, and on it appeared slimyouths and maidens, in delicate, rose-colored garments, with butterflywings on their shoulders, running or hurriedly walking, playing oninstruments of various forms, their faces shining with gladness, theirgolden hair tossed by the wind--a gay procession, without beginning orend. Behind these joyful ones, in pale gray, and half-obscured by themists that formed the background, appeared a second procession, hurryingin an opposite direction--men and women of all ages, but mostly old, with haggard, woebegone faces; some bowed down, their eyes fixed on theground; others wringing their hands, or beating their breasts; and allapparently suffering the utmost affliction of mind. 

Above the bottle there was a deep circular cell in the alcove, aboutfifteen inches in diameter; fitted in it was a metal ring, to which wereattached golden strings, fine as gossamer threads: behind the first ringwas a second, and further in still others, all stringed like the first, so that looking into the cell it appeared filled with a mist of goldencobweb. 

Drawing a cushioned seat to this secluded nook, where no person passingcasually through the room would be able to see me, I sat down, andfeeling too indolent to get myself a reading-stand, I supported thevolume I had taken up to read on my knees. It was entitled _Conductand Ceremonial, _ and the subject-matter was divided into shortsections, each with an appropriate heading. Turning over the leaves, andreading a sentence here and there in different sections, it occurred tome that this might prove a most useful work for me to study, whenever Icould bring my mind into the right frame for such a task; for itcontained minute instructions upon all points relating to individualconduct in the house--as the entertainment of pilgrims, the dress to beworn, and the conduct to be observed at the various annual festivals, with other matters of the kind. Glancing through it in this rapid way, Isoon finished with the first volume, then went through the second ineven less time, for many of the concluding sections related tolugubrious subjects which I did not care to linger over; the titlesalone were enough to trouble me--Decay through Age, Ailments of Mind andof Body; then Death, and, finally, the Disposal of the Dead. This done Itook up the third volume, the last of the series, the first portion ofwhich was headed, _Renewal of the Family_. This part I began toexamine with some attention, and pretty soon discovered that I had nowat last accidentally stumbled upon a perfect mine of information of theprecise kind I had so long and so vainly been seeking. Struggling toovercome my agitation I read on, hurrying through page after page withthe greatest rapidity; for there was here much matter that had nospecial interest for me, but incidentally the things which concerned memost to know were touched on, and in some cases minutely explained. As Iproceeded, the prophetic gloom which had oppressed me all that day, andfor so many days before, darkened to the blackness of despair, andsuddenly throwing up my arms, the book slipped from my knees and fellwith a crash upon the floor. There, face downwards, with its beautifulleaves doubled and broken under its weight, it rested unheeded at myfeet. For now the desired knowledge was mine, and that dream ofhappiness which had illumined my life was over. Now I possessed thesecret of that passionless, everlasting calm of beings who had for everoutlived, and left as immeasurably far behind as the instincts of thewolf and ape, the strongest emotion of which my heart was capable. Forthe children of the house there could be no union by marriage; in bodyand soul they differed from me: they had no name for that feeling whichI had so often and so vainly declared; therefore they had told me againand again that there was only one kind of love, for they, alas! couldexperience one kind only. I did not, for the moment, seek further in thebook, or pause to reflect on that still unexplained mystery, which wasthe very center and core of the whole mater, namely, the existence ofthe father and mother in the house, from whose union the family wasrenewed, and who, fruitful themselves, were yet the parents of a barrenrace. Nor did I ask who their successors would be: for albeitlong-lived, they were mortal like their own passionless children, and inthis particular house their lives appeared now to be drawing to an end. These were questions I cared nothing about. It was enough to know thatYoletta could never love me as I loved her--that she could never bemine, body and soul, in my way and not in hers. With unspeakablebitterness I recalled my conversation with Chastel: now all herprofessions of affection and goodwill, all her schemes for smoothing myway and securing my happiness, seemed to me the veriest mockery, sinceeven she had read my heart no better than the others, and that chillmoonlight felicity, beyond which her children were powerless to imagineanything, had no charm for my passion-torn heart. 

Presently, when I began to recover somewhat from my stupefaction, and torealize the magnitude of my loss, the misery of it almost drove me mad. I wished that I had never made this fatal discovery, that I might havecontinued still hoping and dreaming, and wearing out my heart withstriving after the impossible, since any fate would have been preferableto the blank desolation which now confronted me. I even wished topossess the power of some implacable god or demon, that I might shatterthe sacred houses of this later race, and destroy them everlastingly, and repeople the peaceful world with struggling, starving millions, asin the past, so that the beautiful flower of love which had withered inmen's hearts might blossom again. 

While these insane thoughts were passing through my brain I had risenfrom my seat, and stood leaning against the edge of the alcove, withthat curious richly-colored bottle close to my eyes. There were letterson it, noticed now for the first time--minute, hair-like lines beneaththe strange-contrasted processionists depicted on the band--and even inmy excited condition I was a little startled when these letters, formingthe end of a sentence, shaped themselves into the words--_and for theold life there shall be a new life_. 

Turning the bottle round I read the whole sentence. _When time anddisease oppress, and the sun grows cold in heaven, and there is nolonger any joy on the earth, and the fire of love grows cold in theheart, drink of me, and for the old life there shall be a new life. _

"Another important secret!" thought I; "this day has certainly beenfruitful in discoveries. A panacea for all diseases, even for thedisease of old age, so that a man may live two hundred years, and stillfind some pleasure in existence. But for me life has lost its savor, andI have no wish to last so long. There is more writing here--anothersecret perhaps, but I doubt very much that it will give me any comfort. "

_When your soul is darkened, so that it is hard to know evil fromgood, and the thoughts that are in you lead to madness, drink of me, andbe cured. _

"No, I shall not drink and be cured! Better a thousand times thethoughts that lead to madness than this colorless existence withoutlove. I do not wish to recover from so sweet a malady. "

I took the bottle in my hand and unstopped it. The stopper formed acurious little cup, round the rim of which was written, _Drink ofme_. I poured some of the liquid out into the cup; it was pale yellowin color, and had a faint sickly smell as of honeysuckles. Then I pouredit back again and replaced the bottle in its niche. 

_Drink and be cured_. No, not yet. Some day, perhaps, my troubleincreasing till it might no longer be borne, would drive me to seek suchdreary comfort as this cure-all bottle contained. To love without hopewas sad enough, but to be without love was even sadder. 

I had grown calm now: the knowledge that I had it in my power to escapeat once and for eyer from that rage of desire, had served to sober mymind, and at last I began to reason about the matter. The nature of mysecret feelings could never be suspected, and in the unsubstantial realmof the imagination it would still be in my power to hide myself with mylove, and revel in all supreme delight. Would not that be better thanthis cure--this calm contentment held out to me? And in time also myfeelings would lose their present intensity, which often made them anagony, and would come at last to exist only as a gentle rapture stirringin my heart when I clasped my darling to my bosom and pressed her sweetlips with mine. Ah, no! that was a vain dream, I could not be deceivedby it; for who can say to the demon of passion in him, thus far shaltthou go and no further?

Perplexed in mind and unable to decide which thing was best, my troubledthoughts at length took me back to that far-off dead past, when thepassion of love was so much in man's life. It was much; but in thatover-populated world it divided the empire of his soul with a great, ever-growing misery--the misery of the hungry ones whose minds weredarkened, through long years of decadence, with a sullen rage againstGod and man; and the misery of those who, wanting nothing, yet fearedthat the end of all things was coming to them. 

For the space of half an hour I pondered on these things, then said: "IfI were to tell a hundredth part of this black retrospect to Yoletta, would not she bid me drink and forget, and herself pour out the divineliquor, and press it to my lips?"

Again I took the bottle with trembling hand, and filled the same smallcup to the brim, saying: "For your sake then, Yoletta, let me drink, andbe cured; for this is what you desire, and you are more to me than lifeor passion or happiness. But when this consuming fire has left me--thisfeeling which until now burns and palpitates in every drop of my blood, every fiber of my being--I know that you shall still be to me a sweet, sacred sister and immaculate bride, worshipped more of my soul than anymother in the house; that loving and being loved by you shall be my onegreat joy all my life long. "

I drained the cup deliberately, then stopped the bottle and put it backin its place. The liquor was tasteless, but colder than ice, and made meshiver when I swallowed it. I began to wonder whether I would beconscious of the change it was destined to work in me or not; and then, half regretting what I had done, I wished that Yoletta would come to me, so that I might clasp her in my arms with all the old fervor once more, before that icy-cold liquor had done its work. Finally, I carefullyraised the fallen book, and smoothed out its doubled leaves, regrettingthat I had injured it; and, sitting down again, I held the open volumeas before, resting on my knees. Now, however, I perceived that it hadopened at a place some pages in advance of the passages which hadexcited me; but, feeling no desire to go back to resume my reading justwhere I had left off, my eyes mechanically sought the top of the pagebefore me, and this is what I read:

". .. Make choice of one of the daughters of the house; it is fitting thatshe should rejoice for that brighter excellence which caused her to beraised to so high a state, and to have authority over all others, sincein her, with the father, all the majesty and glory of the house iscentered; albeit with a solemn and chastened joy, like that of thepilgrim who, journeying to some distant tropical region of the earth, and seeing the shores of his native country fading from sight, thinks atone and the same time of the unimaginable beauties of nature and artthat fire his mind and call him away, and of the wide distance whichwill hold him for many years divided from all familiar scenes and thebeings he loves best, and of the storms and perils of the greatwilderness of waves, into which so many have ventured and have notreturned. For now a changed body and soul shall separate her foreverfrom those who were one in nature with her; and with that superiorhappiness destined to be hers there shall be the pains and perils ofchildbirth, with new griefs and cares unknown to those of humblercondition. But on that lesser gladness had by the children of the housein her exaltation, and because there will be a new mother in thehouse--one chosen from themselves--there shall be no cloud or shadow;and, taking her by the hand, and kissing her face in token of joy, andof that new filial love and obedience which will be theirs, they shalllead her to the Mother's Room, thereafter to be inhabited by her as longas life lasts. And she shall no longer serve in the house or sufferrebuke; but all shall serve her in love, and hold her in reverence, whois their predestined mother. And for the space of one year she shall bewithout authority in the house, being one apart, instructing herself inthe secret books which it is not lawful for another to read, andobserving day by day the directions contained therein, until that newknowledge and practice shall ripen her for that state she has beenchosen to fill. "

* * * * *

This passage was a fresh revelation to me. Again I recalled Chastel'swords, her repeated assurances that she knew what was passing in mymind, that her eyes saw things more clearly than others could see them, that only by giving me the desire of my heart could the one remaininghope of her life be fulfilled. Now I seemed able to understand thesedark sayings, and a new excitement, full of the joy of hope, sprang upin me, making me forget the misery I had so recently experienced, andeven that increasing sensation of intense cold caused by the draughtfrom the mysterious bottle. 

I continued reading, but the above passage was succeeded by minuteinstructions, extending over several pages, concerning the dress, bothfor ordinary and extraordinary occasions, to be worn by the chosendaughter during her year of preparation: the conduct to be observed byher towards other members of the family, also towards pilgrims visitingthe house in the interval, with many other matters of secondaryimportance. Impatient to reach the end, I tried to turn the leavesrapidly, but now found that my arm had grown strangely stiff and cold, and seemed like an arm of iron when I raised it, so that the turningover of each leaf was an immense labor. Then I read yet another page, but with the utmost difficulty; for, notwithstanding the eagerness of mymind, my eyes began to remain more and more rigidly fixed on the centerof the leaf, so that I could scarcely force them to follow the lines. Here I read that the bride-elect, her year of preparation being over, rises before daylight, and goes out alone to an appointed place at agreat distance from the house, there to pass several hours in solitudeand silence, communing with her own heart. Meanwhile, in the house allthe others array themselves in purple garments, and go out singing atsunrise to gather flowers to adorn their heads; then, proceeding to theappointed spot, they seek for their new mother, and, finding her, leadher home with music and rejoicing. 

When, reading in this miserable, painful way, I had reached the bottomof the page, and attempted to turn it over, I found that I could nolonger move my hand--my arms being now like arms of iron, absolutelydevoid of sensation, while my hands, rigidly grasping the book like thehands of a frozen corpse, held it upright and motionless before me. Itried to start up and shake off this strange deadness from my body, butwas powerless to move a muscle. What was the meaning of this condition?for I had absolutely no pain, no discomfort even; for the sensation ofintense cold had almost ceased, and my mind was active and clear, and Icould hear and see, and yet was as powerless as if I had been buried ina marble coffin a thousand fathoms deep in earth. 

Suddenly I remembered the draught from the bottle, and a terrible doubtshot through my heart. Alas! had I mistaken the meaning of those strangewords I had read?--was _death_ the cure which that mysteriousvessel promised to those who drank of its contents? "When life becomes aburden, it is good to lay it down"; now too late the words of thefather, when reproving me after my fever, came back to my mind in alltheir awful significance. 

All at once I heard a voice calling my name, and in a moment the tempestin me was stilled. Yes, it was my darling's voice--she was coming tome--she would save me in this dire extremity. Again and again shecalled, but the voice now sounded further and further away; and withineffable anguish I remembered that she would not be able to see mewhere I sat. I tried to cry out, "Come quick, Yoletta, and save me fromdeath!" but though I mentally repeated the words again and again in anextreme agony of terror, my frozen tongue refused to make a sound. Presently I heard a light, quick step on the floor, then Yoletta's clearvoice. 

"Oh, I have found you at last!" she cried. "I have been seeking you allover the house. I have something glad to tell you--something to make youhappier than on that day--do you remember?--when you saw me coming toyou in the wood. The mother has left her chamber at last; she is in theMother's Room again, waiting impatiently to see you. Come, come!"

Her words sounded distinctly in my ears, and although I could not liftor turn my rigid eyes to see her, yet I seemed to see her now betterthan ever before, with some fresh glory, as of a new, unaccustomedgladness or excitement enhancing her unsurpassed loveliness, so clearlyat that moment did her image shine in my soul! And not hers only, fornow suddenly, by a miracle of the mind, the entire family appeared therebefore me; and in the midst sat Chastel, my sweet, suffering mother, ason that day after my illness when she had pardoned me, and put out herhand for me to kiss. As on that occasion, now--now she was gazing on mewith such divine love and compassion in her eyes, her lips half parted, and a slight color flushing her pale face, recalling to it the bloom andradiance of which cruel disease had robbed her! And in my soul also, atthat supreme moment, like a scene starting at the lightning's flash outof thick darkness, shone the image of the house, with all its wide, tranquil rooms rich in art and ancient memories, every stone within themglowing, with everlasting beauty--a house enduring as the green plainsand rushing rivers and solemn woods and world-old hills amid which itwas set like a sacred gem! O sweet abode of love and peace and purity ofheart! O bliss surpassing that of the angels! O rich heritage, must Ilose you for ever! Save me from death, Yoletta, my love, my bride--saveme--save me--save me!

Then something touched or fell on my neck, and at the same moment adeeper shadow passed over the page before me, with all its rich coloringfloating formless, like vapors, mingling and separating, or dancingbefore my vision, like bright-winged insects hovering in the sunlight;and I knew that she was bending over me, her hand on my neck, her loosehair falling on my forehead. 

In that enforced stillness and silence I waited expectant for somemoments. 

Then a great cry, as of one who suddenly sees a black phantom, rang outloud in the room, jarring my brain with the madness of its terror, andstriking as with a hundred passionate hands on all the hidden harps inwall and roof; and the troubled sounds came back to me, now loud and nowlow, burdened with an infinite anguish and despair, as of voices ofinnumerable multitudes wandering in the sunless desolations of space, every voice reverberating anguish and despair; and the successivereverberations lifted me like waves and dropped me again, and the wavesgrew less and the sounds fainter, then fainter still, and died ineverlasting silence.