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+The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Secret Power, by Marie Corelli
+#2 in our series by Marie Corelli
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+Title: The Secret Power
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+Author: Marie Corelli
+
+Release Date: March, 2003  [Etext #3831]
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+The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Secret Power, by Marie Corelli
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+
+
+THE SECRET POWER
+
+
+BY MARIE CORELLI
+
+AUTHOR OF
+
+"God's Good Man" "The Master Christian" "Innocent,"
+"The Treasure of Heaven," etc.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE SECRET POWER
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+A cloud floated slowly above the mountain peak. Vast, fleecy and
+white as the crested foam of a sea-wave, it sailed through the sky
+with a divine air of majesty, seeming almost to express a
+consciousness of its own grandeur. Over a spacious tract of Southern
+California it extended its snowy canopy, moving from the distant
+Pacific Ocean across the heights of the Sierra Madre, now and then
+catching fire at its extreme edge from the sinking sun, which burned
+like a red brand flung on the roof of a roughly built hut situated
+on the side of a sloping hollow in one of the smaller hills. The
+door of the hut stood open; there were a couple of benches on the
+burnt grass outside, one serving as a table, the other as a chair.
+Papers and books were neatly piled on the table,--and on the chair,
+if chair it might be called, a man sat reading. His appearance was
+not prepossessing at a first glance, though his actual features
+could hardly be seen, so concealed were they by a heavy growth of
+beard. In the way of clothing he had little to trouble him. Loose
+woollen trousers, a white shirt, and a leathern belt to keep the two
+garments in place, formed his complete outfit, finished off by wide
+canvas shoes. A thatch of dark hair, thick and ill combed,
+apparently served all his need of head covering, and he seemed
+unconscious of, or else indifferent to, the hot glare of the summer
+sky which was hardly tempered by the long shadow of the floating
+cloud. At some moments he was absorbed in reading,--at others in
+writing. Close within his reach was a small note-book in which from
+time to time he jotted down certain numerals and made rapid
+calculations, frowning impatiently as though the very act of writing
+was too slow for the speed of his thought. There was a wonderful
+silence everywhere,--a silence such as can hardly be comprehended by
+anyone who has never visited wide-spreading country, over-canopied
+by large stretches of open sky, and barricaded from the further
+world by mountain ranges which are like huge walls built by a race
+of Titans. The dwellers in such regions are few--there is no traffic
+save the coming and going of occasional pack-mules across the hill
+tracks--no sign of modern civilisation. Among such deep and solemn
+solitudes the sight of a living human being is strange and
+incongruous, yet the man seated outside his hut had an air of ease
+and satisfied proprietorship not always found with wealthy owners of
+mansions and park-lands. He was so thoroughly engrossed in his books
+and papers that he hardly saw, and certainly did not hear, the
+approach of a woman who came climbing wearily up the edge of the
+sloping hill against which his cabin presented itself to the view as
+a sort of fitment, and advanced towards him carrying a tin pail full
+of milk. This she set down within a yard or so of him, and then,
+straightening her back, she rested her hands on her hips and drew a
+long breath. For a minute or two he took no notice of her. She
+waited. She was a big handsome creature, sun-browned and black-
+haired, with flashing dark eyes lit by a spark that was not
+originally caught from heaven. Presently, becoming conscious of her
+presence, he threw his book aside and looked up.
+
+"Well! So you've come after all! Yesterday you said you wouldn't."
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"I do not wish you to starve."
+
+"Very kind of you! But nothing can starve me."
+
+"If you had no food--"
+
+"I should find some"--he said--"Yes!--I should find some,--
+somewhere! I want very little."
+
+He rose, stretching his arms lazily above his head,--then, stooping,
+he lifted the pail of milk and carried it into his cabin.
+Disappearing for a moment, he returned, bringing back the pail
+empty.
+
+"I have enough for two days now," he said--"and longer. What you
+brought me at the beginning of the week has turned beautifully
+sour,--a 'lovely curd' as our cook at home used to say--, and with
+that 'lovely curd' and plenty of fruit I'm living in luxury." Here
+he felt in his pockets and took out a handful of coins. "That's
+right, isn't it?"
+
+She counted them over as he gave them to her--bit one with her
+strong white teeth and nodded.
+
+"You don't pay ME"--she said, emphatically--"It's the Plaza you
+pay."
+
+"How many times will you remind me of that!" he replied, with a
+laugh--"Of course I know I don't pay YOU! Of course I know I pay the
+Plaza!--that amazing hotel and 'sanatorium' with a tropical garden
+and no comfort--"
+
+"It is more comfortable than this"--she said, with a disparaging
+glance at his log dwelling.
+
+"How do YOU know?" and he laughed again--"What have YOU ever
+experienced in the line of hotels? You are employed at the Plaza to
+fetch and carry;--to wait on the wretched invalids who come to
+California for a 'cure' of diseases incurable--"
+
+"YOU are not an invalid!" she said with a slight accent of contempt.
+
+"No! I only pretend to be!"
+
+"Why do you pretend?"
+
+"Oh, Manella! What a question! Why do we all pretend?--all!--every
+human being from the child to the dotard! Simply because we dare not
+face the truth! For example, consider the sun! It is a furnace with
+flames five thousand miles high, but we 'pretend' it is our
+beautiful orb of day! We must pretend! If we didn't we should go
+mad!"
+
+Manella knitted her black brows perplexedly.
+
+"I do not understand you"--she said--"Why do you talk nonsense about
+the sun? I suppose you ARE ill after all,--you have an illness of
+the head."
+
+He nodded with mock solemnity.
+
+"That's it! You're a wise woman, Manella! That's why I'm here. Not
+tubercles on the lungs,--tubercles on the brain! Oh, those
+tubercles! They could never stand the Plaza!--the gaiety, the
+brilliancy--the--the all-too dazzling social round!. . ." he paused,
+and a gleam of even white teeth under his dark moustache gave the
+suggestion of a smile--"That's why I stay up here."
+
+"You make fun of the Plaza"--said Manella, biting her lips vexedly--
+"And of me, too. I am nothing to you!"
+
+"Absolutely nothing, dear! But why should you be any thing?"
+
+A warm flush turned her sunburnt skin to a deeper tinge.
+
+"Men are often fond of women"--she said.
+
+"Often? Oh, more than often! Too often! But what does that matter?"
+
+She twisted the ends of her rose-coloured neckerchief nervously with
+one hand.
+
+"You are a man"--she replied, curtly--"You should have a woman."
+
+He laughed--a deep, mellow, hearty laugh of pleasure.
+
+"Should I? You really think so? Wonderful Manella? Come here!--come
+quite close to me!"
+
+She obeyed, moving with the soft tread of a forest animal, and, face
+to face with him, looked up. He smiled kindly into her dark fierce
+eyes, and noted with artistic approval the unspoiled beauty of
+natural lines in her form, and the proud poise of her handsome head
+on her full throat and splendid shoulders.
+
+"You are very good-looking, Manella"--he then remarked, lazily--
+"Quite the model for a Juno. Be satisfied with yourself. You should
+have scores of lovers!"
+
+She stamped her foot suddenly and impatiently.
+
+"I have none!" she said--"And you know it! But you do not care!"
+
+He shook a reproachful forefinger at her.
+
+"Manella, Manella, you are naughty! Temper, temper! Of course I do
+not care! Be reasonable! Why should I?"
+
+She pressed both hands tightly against her bosom, seeking to control
+her quick, excited breathing.
+
+"Why should you? I do not know! But _I_ care! I would be your woman!
+I would be your slave! I would wait upon you and serve you
+faithfully! I would obey your every wish. I am a good servant,--I
+can cook and sew and wash and sweep--I can do everything in a house
+and you should have no trouble. You should write and read all day,--
+I would not speak a word to disturb you. I would guard you like a
+dog that loves his master!"
+
+He listened, with a strange look in his eyes,--a look of wonder and
+something of compassion. There was a pause. The silence of the hills
+was, or seemed more intense and impressive--the great white cloud
+still spread itself in large leisure along the miles of slowly
+darkening sky. Presently he spoke. "And what wages, Manella? What
+wages should I have to pay for such a servant?--such a dog?"
+
+Her head drooped, she avoided his steady, searching gaze.
+
+"What wages, Manella? None, you would say, except--love! You tell me
+you would be my woman,--and I know you mean it. You would be my
+slave--you mean that, too. But you would want me to love you!
+Manella, there is no such thing as love!--not in this world! There
+is animal attraction,--the magnetism of the male for the female, the
+female for the male,--the magnetism that pulls the opposite sexes
+together in order to keep this planet supplied with an ever new crop
+of fools,--but love! No, Manella! There is no such thing!"
+
+Here he gently took her two hands away from their tightly folded
+position on her bosom and held them in his own.
+
+"No such thing, my dear!" he went on, speaking softly and
+soothingly, as though to a child--"Except in the dreams of poets,
+and you--fortunately!--know nothing about poetry! The wild animal in
+you is attracted to the tame, ruminating animal in me,--and you
+would be my woman, though I would not be your man. I quite believe
+that it is the natural instinct of the female to select her mate,--
+but, though the rule may hold good in the forest world, it doesn't
+always work among the human herd. Man considers that he has the
+right of selection--quite a mistake of his I'm sure, for he has no
+real sense of beauty or fitness, and generally selects most vilely.
+All the same he is an obstinate brute, and sticks to his brutish
+ideas as a snail sticks to its shell. _I_ am an obstinate brute!--I
+am absolutely convinced that I have the right to choose my own
+woman, if I want one--which I don't,--or if ever I do want one--
+which I never shall!"
+
+She drew her hands quickly from his grasp. There were tears in her
+splendid dark eyes.
+
+"You talk, you talk!" she said, with a kind of sob in her voice--"It
+is all talk with you--talk which I cannot understand! I don't WANT
+to understand!--I am only a poor, ignorant girl. I cannot talk--but
+I can love! Ah yes, I can love! You say there is no such thing as
+love! What is it then, when one prays every night and morning for a
+man?--when one would work one's fingers to the bone for him?--when
+one would die to keep him from sickness and harm? What do you call
+it?"
+
+He smiled.
+
+"Self-delusion, Manella! The beautiful self-delusion of every
+nature-bred woman when her fancy is attracted by a particular sort
+of man. She makes an ideal of him in her mind and imagines him to be
+a god, when he is nothing but a devil!"
+
+Something sinister and cruel in his look startled her,--she made the
+sign of the cross on her bosom.
+
+"A devil?" she murmured--"a devil--?"
+
+"Ah, now you are frightened!" he said, with a flash of amusement in
+his eyes--"You are a good Catholic, and you believe in devils. So
+you make the sign of the cross as a protection. That's right! That's
+the way to defend yourself from my evil influence! Wise Manella!"
+
+The light mockery of his tone roused her pride,--that pride which
+had been suppressed in her by the force of a passionate emotion she
+could not restrain. She lifted her head and regarded him with an air
+of sorrow and scorn.
+
+"After all, I think you must be a wicked man!" she said--"You have
+no heart! You are not worthy to be loved!"
+
+"Quite true, Manella! You've hit the bull's eye in the very middle
+three times! I am a wicked man,--I have no heart,--I'm not worthy to
+be loved. No I'm not. I should find it a bore!"
+
+"Bore?" she echoed--"What is that?"
+
+"What is that? It is itself, Manella! 'Bore' is just 'bore.' It
+means tiredness--worn-out-ness--a state in which you wish yourself
+in a hot bath or a cold one, so that nobody can come near you. To be
+'loved' would finish me off in a month!"
+
+Her big eyes opened more widely than their wont in piteous
+perplexity.
+
+"But how?" she asked.
+
+"How? Why, just as you have put it,--to be prayed for night and
+morning,--to be worked for and waited on till fingers turned to
+bones,--to be guarded from sickness and harm,--heavens!--think of
+it! No more adventures in life,--no more freedom!--just love, love,
+love, which would not be love at all but the chains of a miserable
+wretch in prison!"
+
+She flushed an angry crimson.
+
+"Who is it that would chain you?" she demanded, "Not I! You could do
+as you liked with me--you know it!--and when you go away from this
+place, you could leave me and forget me,--I should never trouble you
+or remind you that I lived!! I should have had my happiness,--enough
+for my day!"
+
+The pathos in her voice moved him though he was not easily moved. On
+a sudden impulse he put an arm about her, drew her to him and kissed
+her. She trembled at his caress, while he smiled at her emotion.
+
+"A kiss is nothing, Manella!" he said--"We kiss children as I kiss
+you! You are a child,--a child-woman. Physically you are a Juno,--
+mentally you are an infant! By and by you will grow up,--and you
+will be glad I did no more than kiss you! It's getting late,--you
+must go home."
+
+He released her and put her gently away from him. Then, as he saw
+her eyes still uplifted questioningly to his face, he laughed.
+
+"Upon my word!" he exclaimed--"I am making a nice fool of myself!
+Actually wasting time on a woman. Go home, Manella, go home! If you
+are wise you won't stop here another minute! See now! You are full
+of curiosity--all women are! You want to know why I stay up here in
+this hill cabin by myself instead of staying at the 'Plaza.' You
+think I'm a rich Englishman. I'm not. No Englishman is ever rich,--
+not up to his own desires. He wants the earth and all that therein
+is--does the Englishman, and of course he can't have it. He rather
+grudges America her large slice of rich plum-pudding territory,
+forgetting that he could have had it himself for the price of tea.
+But I don't grudge anybody anything--America is welcome to the whole
+bulk as far as I'm concerned--Britain ditto,--let them both eat and
+be filled. All _I_ want is to be left alone. Do you hear that,
+Manella? To be left alone! Particularly by women. That's one reason
+why I came here. This cabin is supposed to be a sort of tuberculosis
+'shelter,' where a patient in hopeless condition comes with a
+special nurse to die. I don't want a nurse, and I'm not going to
+die. Tubercles don't touch me--they don't flourish on my soil. So
+this solitude just suits me. If I were at the 'Plaza' I should have
+to meet a lot of women--"
+
+"No, you wouldn't," interrupted Manella, suddenly and sharply--"only
+one woman."
+
+"Only one? You?"
+
+She sighed, and moved impatiently.
+
+"Oh, no! Not me. A stranger."
+
+He looked at her with a touch of inquisitiveness.
+
+"An invalid?"
+
+"She may be. I don't know. She has golden hair."
+
+He gave a gesture of dislike.
+
+"Dreadful! That's enough! I can imagine her,--a die-away creature
+with a cough and a straw-coloured wig. Yes!--that will do, Manella!
+You'd better go and wait upon her. I've got all I want for a couple
+of days at least." He seated himself and took up his note-book. She
+turned away.
+
+"Stop a minute, Manella!"
+
+She obeyed.
+
+"Golden hair, you said?"
+
+She nodded.
+
+"Old or young?"
+
+"She might be either"--and Manella gazed dreamily at the darkening
+sky--"There is nobody old nowadays--or so it seems to me."
+
+"An invalid?"
+
+"I don't think so. She looks quite well. She arrived at the Plaza
+only yesterday."
+
+"Ah! Well, good-night, Manella! And if you want to know anything
+more about me, I don't mind telling you this,--that there's nothing
+in the world I so utterly detest as a woman with golden hair!
+There!"
+
+She looked at him, surprised at his harsh tone. He shook his
+forefinger at her.
+
+"Fact!" he said--"Fact as hard as nails! A woman with golden hair is
+a demon--a witch--a mischief and a curse! See? Always has been and
+always will be! Good-night!"
+
+But Manella paused, meditatively.
+
+"She looks like a witch," she said slowly--"One of those creatures
+they put in pictures of fairy tales,--small and white. Very small,--
+I could carry her."
+
+"I wouldn't try it if I were you"--he answered, with visible
+impatience--"Off you go! Good-night!"
+
+She gave him one lingering glance; then, turning abruptly picked up
+her empty milk pail and started down the hill at a run.
+
+The man she left gave a sigh, deep and long of intense relief.
+Evening had fallen rapidly, and the purple darkness enveloped him in
+its warm, dense gloom. He sat absorbed in thought, his eyes turned
+towards the east, where the last stretches of the afternoon's great
+cloud trailed filmy threads of woolly black through space. His
+figure seemed gradually drawn within the coming night so as almost
+to become part of it, and the stillness around him had a touch of
+awe in its impalpable heaviness. One would have thought that in a
+place of such utter loneliness, the natural human spirit of a man
+would instinctively desire movement,--action of some sort, to shake
+off the insidious depression which crept through the air like a
+creeping shadow, but the solitary being, seated somewhat like an
+Aryan idol, hands on knees and face bent forwards, had no
+inclination to stir. His brain was busy; and half unconsciously his
+thoughts spoke aloud in words--
+
+"Have we come to the former old stopping place?" he said, as though
+questioning some invisible companion; "Must we cry 'halt!' for the
+thousand millionth time? Or can we go on? Dare we go on? If actually
+we discover the secret--wrapped up like the minutest speck of a
+kernel in the nut of an electron,--what then? Will it be well or
+ill? Shall we find it worth while to live on here with nothing to
+do?--nothing to trouble us or compel us to labour? Without pain
+shall we be conscious of health?--without sorrow shall we understand
+joy?"
+
+A sudden whiteness flooded the dark landscape, and a full moon
+leaped to the edge of the receding cloud. Its rising had been veiled
+in the drift of black woolly vapour, and its silver glare, sweeping
+through the darkness flashed over the land with astonishing
+abruptness. The man lifted his eyes.
+
+"One would think that done for effect!" he said, half aloud--"If the
+moon were the goddess Cynthia beloved of Endymion, as woman and
+goddess in an impulse of vanity she would certainly have done that
+for effect! As it is--"
+
+Here he paused,--an instinctive feeling warned him that some one was
+looking at him, and he turned his head quickly. On the slope of the
+hill where Manella had lately stood, there was a figure, white as
+the white moonlight itself, outlined delicately against the dark
+background. It seemed to be poised on the earth like a bird just
+lightly descended; in the stirless air its garments appeared closed
+about it fold on fold like the petals of an unopened magnolia
+flower. As he looked, it came gliding towards him with the floating
+ease of an air bubble, and the strong radiance of the large moon
+showed its woman's face, pale with the moonbeam pallor, and set in a
+wave of hair that swept back from the brows and fell in a loosely
+twisted coil like a shining snake stealthily losing itself in folds
+of misty drapery. He rose to meet the advancing phantom.
+
+"Entirely for effect!" he said, "Well planned and quite worthy of
+you! All for effect!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+A laugh, clear and cold as a sleigh-bell on a frosty night rang out
+on the silence.
+
+"Why did you run away from me?"
+
+He replied at once, and brusquely.
+
+"Because I was tired of you!"
+
+She laughed again. A strange white elf as she looked In the
+spreading moonbeams she was woman to the core, and the disdainful
+movement of her small uplifted head plainly expressed her utter
+indifference to his answer.
+
+"I followed you"--she said--"I knew I should find you! What are you
+doing up here? Shamming to be ill?"
+
+"Precisely! 'Sham' is as much in my line as yours. I have to
+'pretend' in order to be real!"
+
+"Paradoxical as usual!" and she shrugged her shoulders--"Anyway
+you've chosen a good place to do your shamming in. It's quite lovely
+up here,--much better than the Plaza. I am at the Plaza."
+
+"Automobile and all I suppose!" he said, sarcastically--"How many
+servants?--how many boxes with how many dresses?"
+
+She laughed again.
+
+"That's no concern of yours!" she replied--"I am my own mistress."
+
+"More's the pity!" he retorted.
+
+They faced each other. The moon, now soaring high in clear space,
+shed a luminous rain of silver over all the visible breadth of wild
+country, and their two figures looked mere dark silhouettes half
+drowned in the pearly glamour.
+
+"It's worth travelling all the long miles to see!" she declared,
+stretching her arms out with an enthusiastic gesture--"Oh, beautiful
+big moon of California! I'm glad I came!"
+
+He was silent.
+
+"You are not glad!" she continued--"You are a bear-man in hiding,
+and the moon says nothing to you!"
+
+"It says nothing because it IS nothing"--he answered, impatiently--
+"It is a dead planet without heart,--a mere shell of extinct
+volcanoes where fire once burned, and its light is but the
+reflection of the sun on its barren surface. It is like all women,--
+but mostly like YOU!"
+
+She made him a sweeping curtsy so exquisitely graceful that the
+action resembled nothing so much as the sway of a lily in a light
+wind.
+
+"Thanks, gentle Knight!--flower of chivalry!" she said--"I see you
+love me in spite of yourself!"
+
+He made a quick stride towards her,--then stopped. "Love you!" he
+echoed,--then laughed loudly and derisively-"Great God! Love you?
+YOU? If I did I should be mad! When will you learn the truth of
+me?--that women are less in my estimation than the insects crawling
+on a blade of grass or spawning in a stagnant pond?--that they have
+no power to move me to the smallest pulse of passion or desire?--and
+that you, of all your sex, seem to my mind the most--"
+
+"Hateful?" she suggested, smilingly.
+
+"No--the most complete and unmitigated bore!"
+
+"Dreadful!" and she made a face at him like that of a naughty
+child,--then she sank down on the sun-baked turf in an easy half-
+reclining attitude--"It's certainly much worse to be a bore than to
+be hated. Hate is quite a live sentiment,--besides it always means,
+or HAS meant--love! You can't hate anything that is quite
+indifferent to you, but of course you CAN be bored! YOU are bored by
+me and I am bored by YOU!--and we are absolutely indifferent to each
+other! What a comedy it is! Isn't it?"
+
+He stood still and sombre, gazing down at the figure resting on the
+ground at his feet, its white garments gathering about it as though
+they were sentiently aware that they must keep the line of classic
+beauty in every fold.
+
+"Boredom is the trouble"--she went on--"No one escapes it. The very
+babies of to-day are bored. We all know too much. People used to be
+happy because they were ignorant--they had no sort of idea why they
+were born, or what they came into the world for. Now they've learned
+the horrid truth that they are only here just as the trees and
+flowers are here--to breed other trees and flowers and then go out
+of it--for no purpose, apparently. They are 'disillusioned.' They
+say 'what's the use?' To put up with so much trouble and labour for
+the folks coining after us whom we shall never see,--it seems
+perfectly foolish and futile. They used to believe in another life
+after this--but that hope has been knocked out of them. Besides it's
+quite open to question whether any of us would care to live again.
+Probably it might mean more boredom. There's really nothing left.
+That's why so many of us go reckless--it's just to escape being
+bored."
+
+He listened in cold silence. After a pause--
+
+"Have you done?" he said.
+
+She looked up at him. The moonbeams set tiny frosty sparkles in her
+eyes.
+
+"Have I done?" she echoed--"No,--not quite! I love talking--and it's
+a new and amusing sensation for me to talk to a man in his shirt-
+sleeves on a hill in California by the light of the moon! So wild
+and picturesque you know! All the men I've ever met have been
+dressed to death! Have you had your dinner?"
+
+"I never dine," he replied.
+
+"Really! Don't you eat and drink at all?"
+
+"I live simply,"--he said--"Bread and milk are enough for me, and I
+have these."
+
+She laughed and clapped her hands.
+
+"Like a baby!" she exclaimed--"A big bearded baby! It's too
+delicious! And you're doing all this just to get away from ME! What
+a compliment!"
+
+With angry impetus he bent over her reclining figure and seized her
+two hands.
+
+"Get up!" he said harshly--"Don't lie there like a fallen angel!"
+
+She yielded to his powerful grasp as he pulled her to her feet--then
+looked at him still laughing.
+
+"Plenty of muscle!" she said--"Well?"
+
+He held her hands still and gripped them fiercely. She gave a little
+cry.
+
+"Don't! You forget my rings,--they hurt!"
+
+At once he loosened his hold, and gazed moodily at her small fingers
+on which two or three superb diamond circlets glittered like drops
+of dew.
+
+"Your rings!" he said--"Yes--I forgot them! Wonderful rings!--
+emblems of your inordinate vanity and vulgar wealth--I forgot them!
+How they sparkle in this wide moonlight, don't they? Just a drifting
+of nature's refuse matter, turned into jewels for women! Strange
+ordinance of strange elements! There!" and he let her hands go free-
+-"They are not injured, nor are you."
+
+She was silent pouting her under-lip like a spoilt child, and
+rubbing one finger where a ring had dinted her flesh.
+
+"So you actually think I have coma here to get away from YOU?" he
+went on--"Well for once your ineffable conceit is mistaken. You
+think yourself a personage of importance--but you are nothing,--less
+than nothing to me, I never give you a thought--I have come here to
+study--to escape from the crazy noise of modern life--the hurtling
+to and fro of the masses of modern humanity,--I want to work out
+certain problems which may revolutionise the world and its course of
+living--"
+
+"Why revolutionise it?" she interrupted--"Who wants it to be
+revolutionised? We are all very well as we are--it's a breeding
+place and a dying place--voila tout!"
+
+She gave a French shrug of her shoulder and waved her hands
+expressively. Then she pushed back her flowing hair,--the moonbeams
+trickled like water over it, making a network of silver on gold.
+
+"What did you come here for?" he asked, abruptly.
+
+"To see you!" she answered smilingly--"And to tell you that I'm 'on
+the war-path' as they say, taking scalps as I go. This means that
+I'm travelling about,--possibly I may go to Europe--"
+
+"To pick up a bankrupt nobleman!" he suggested.
+
+She laughed.
+
+"Dear, no! Nothing quite so stupid! Neither noblemen nor bankrupts
+attract me. No! I'm doing a scientific 'prowl,' like you. I believe
+I've discovered something with which I could annihilate you--so!"
+and she made a round O of her curved fingers and blew through it--
+"One breath!--from a distance, too! and hey presto!--the bear-man on
+the hills of California eating bread and milk is gone!--a complete
+vanishing trick--no more of him anywhere!" The bear-man, as she
+called him, gloomed upon her with a scowl.
+
+"You'd better leave such things alone!" he said, angrily--"Women
+have no business with science."
+
+"No, of course not!" she agreed--"Not in men's opinion. That's why
+they never mention Madame Curie without the poor Monsieur! SHE found
+radium and he didn't,--but 'he' is always first mentioned."
+
+He gave an impatient gesture.
+
+"Enough of all this!" he said--"Do you know it's nearly ten o'clock
+at night?--I suppose you do know!--and the people at the Plaza--"
+
+"THEY know!"--she interrupted, nodding sagaciously--"They know I am
+rich--rich--rich! It doesn't matter what I do, because I am rich! I
+might stay out all night with a bear-man, and nobody would say a
+word against me, because I am rich! I might sit on the roof of the
+Plaza and swing my legs over the visitors' windows and it would be
+called 'charming' because I am rich! I can appear at the table
+d'hote in a bath-wrap and eat peas with a hair-pin if I like--and my
+conduct will be admired, because I am rich! When I go to Europe my
+photo will be in all the London pictorials with the grinning chorus-
+girls, because I am rich! And I shall be called 'the beautiful,'
+'the exquisite'--'the fascinating' by all the unwashed penny
+journalists because I am rich! O-ooh!" and she gave a comic little
+screw of her mouth and eyes--"It's great fun to be rich if you know
+what to do with your riches!"
+
+"Do YOU?" he enquired, sarcastically.
+
+"I think so!" here she put her head on one side like a meditative
+bird and her wonderful hair fell aslant like a golden wing--"I amuse
+myself--as much as I can. I learn all that can be done with greedy,
+stupid humanity for so much cash down! I would,"--here she paused,
+and with a sudden feline swiftness of movement came close up to him-
+-"I would have married YOU!--if you would have had me! I would have
+given you all my money to play with,--you could have got everything
+you want for your inventions and experiments, and I would have
+helped you,--and then--then--you could have blown up the world and
+me with it, so long as you gave me time to look at the magnificent
+sight! And I wouldn't have married you for love, mind you!--only for
+curiosity!"
+
+He withdrew from her a couple of paces,--a glimmer of white teeth
+between his dark moustache and beard gave his face the expression of
+a snarl more than a smile.
+
+"For curiosity!" she repeated, stretching out a hand and touching
+his arm--"To see what the thing that calls itself a man is made of!
+I did my very best with you, didn't I?--uncouth as you always were
+and are!--but I did my best! And all Washington thought it was
+settled! Why wouldn't you do what Washington expected?"
+
+The light of the moon fell full on her upturned face. It was a
+wonderful face,--not beautiful according to the monotonous press-
+camera type, but radiant with such a light of daring intelligence as
+to make beauty itself seem cheap and meretricious in comparison with
+its glowing animation. He moved away from her another step, and
+shook his arm free from her touch.
+
+"Why wouldn't you?" she reiterated softly; then with a sudden ripple
+of laughter, she clasped her hands and uplifted them in an attitude
+of prayer--"Why wouldn't he? Oh, big moon of California, why? Oh,
+pagan gods and goddesses and fauns and fairies, tell me why? Why
+wouldn't he?"
+
+He gave her a glance of cool contempt.
+
+"You should have been on the stage!" he said.
+
+"'All the world's a stage,'" she quoted, letting her upraised arms
+fall languidly at her sides--"And ours is a real comedy! Not 'As You
+Like It' but 'As You Don't Like It!' Poor Shakespeare!--he never
+imagined such characters as we are! Now, suppose you had satisfied
+the expectations of all Washington City and married me, of course we
+should have bored each other dreadfully--but with plenty of money we
+could have run away from each other whenever we liked--they all do
+it nowadays!"
+
+"Yes--they all do it!" he repeated, mechanically.
+
+"They don't 'love' you know!" she went on--"Love is too much of a
+bore. YOU would find it so!"
+
+"I should, indeed!" he said, with sudden energy--"It would be worse
+than any imaginable torture!--to be 'loved' and looked after, and
+watched and coddled and kissed--"
+
+"Oh, surely no woman would want to kiss you!" she exclaimed--"Never!
+THAT would be too much of a good thing!"
+
+And she gave a little peal of laughter, merry as the lilt of a sky-
+lark in the dawn. He stared at her angrily, moved by an insensate
+desire to seize her and throw her down the hill like a bundle of
+rubbish.
+
+"To kiss YOU," she said, "one would have to wear a lip-shield of
+leather! As well kiss a bunch of nettles! No, no! I have quite a
+nice little mouth--soft and rosy! I shouldn't like to spoil it by
+scratching it against yours! It's curious how all men imagine women
+LIKE to kiss them! They never grasp an idea of the frequent
+unpleasantness of the operation! Now I'm going!"
+
+"Thank God!" he ejaculated fervently.
+
+"And don't worry yourself"--she continued, airily--"I shall not stay
+long at the Plaza."
+
+"Thank God again!" he interpolated.
+
+"It would be too dull,--especially as I'm not shamming to be ill,
+like you. Besides, I have work to do!--wonderful work! and I don't
+believe in doing it shut up like a hermit. Humanity is my crucible!
+Good-night,--good-bye!"
+
+He checked her movement by a quick, imperious gesture.
+
+"Wait!" he said--"Before you go I want you to know a bit of my mind-
+-"
+
+"Is it necessary?" she queried.
+
+"I think so," he answered--"It will save you the trouble of ever
+trying to see me again, which will be a relief to me, if not to you.
+Listen!--and look at yourself with MY eyes--"
+
+"Too difficult!" she declared--"I can look at nothing with your eyes
+any more than you can with mine!"
+
+"Madam--"
+
+She uttered a little laughing "Oh!" and put her hand to her ears.
+
+"Not 'Madam' for heaven's sake!" she exclaimed; "It sounds as if I
+were either a queen or a dressmaker!"
+
+His sombre eyes had no smile in them.
+
+"How should you be addressed?" he demanded, "A woman of such wealth
+and independence as you possess can hardly be called 'Miss' as if
+she were in parental leading-strings!"
+
+She looked up at the clear dark sky where the moon hung like a huge
+silver air-ball.
+
+"No, I suppose not!" she replied--"The old English word was
+'Mistress.' So quaint and pretty, don't you think?"
+
+  'Oh mistress mine, where are you roaming?
+   Oh stay and hear! your true love's coming!'
+
+She sang the two lines in a deliciously entrancing voice, full of
+youth and tenderness. With one quick stride he advanced upon her and
+caught her by the shoulders.
+
+"My God, I could shake the life out of you!" he said, fiercely--"I
+wonder you are not afraid of me!"
+
+She laughed, careless of his grasp.
+
+"Why should I be? You couldn't kill me if you tried--and if you
+could--"
+
+"If I could--ah, if I could!" he muttered, fiercely.
+
+"Why then there would be another murderer added to the general world
+of murderers!" she said--"That's all! It's not worth it!"
+
+Still he held her in his grip.
+
+"See here!" he said--"Before you go I want yon to know a thing or
+two,--you may as well learn once for all my views on women. They're
+brief, but they're fixed. And they're straight! Women are nothing--
+just necessary for the continuation of the race--no more. They may
+be beautiful or homely--it's all one--they serve the same purpose.
+I'm under no delusions about them. Without men they are utterly
+useless,--mere waste on the wind! To idealise them is a stupid
+mistake. To think that they can do anything original, intellectual
+or imaginative is to set one's self down an idiot. YOU,--you the
+spoilt only child of one of the biggest rascal financiers in New
+York,--YOU, left alone in the world with a fortune so vast as to be
+almost criminal--you think you are something superlative in the way
+of women,--you play the Cleopatra,--you are convinced you can draw
+men after you--but it's your money that draws them,--not YOU! Can't
+you see that?--or are you too vain to see it? And you've no mercy on
+them,--you make them believe you care for them and then you throw
+them over like empty nutshells! That's your way! But you never
+fooled ME,--and you never will!"
+
+He released her as suddenly as he had grasped her,--she drew her
+white draperies round her shoulders with a statuesque grace, and
+lifted her head, smiling.
+
+"Empty nutshells are a very good description of men who come after a
+woman for her money"--she observed, placidly--"and it's quite
+natural that the woman should throw them over her shoulder. There's
+nothing in them--not even a flavour! No--never fooled you,--you
+fooled yourself--you are fooling yourself now, only you don't know
+it. But there!--let's finish talking! I like the romance of the
+situation--you in your shirt-sleeves on a hill in California, and I
+in silken stuff and diamonds paying you a moonlight visit--it's
+really quite novel and charming!--but it can't go on for ever! Just
+now you said you wanted me to know a thing or two, and I presume you
+have explained yourself. What you think or what you don't think
+about women doesn't interest me. I'm one of the 'wastes on the
+wind!' _I_ shall not aid in the continuation of the race,--heaven
+forbid! The race is too stupid and too miserable to merit
+continuance. Everything has been done for it that can be done, over
+and over again, from the beginning--till now,--and now--NOW!" She
+paused, and despite himself the tone of her voice sent a thrill
+through his blood of something like fear.
+
+"NOW?--well! What NOW?" he demanded.
+
+She lifted one hand and pointed upwards. Her face in the moonbeams
+looked austere and almost spectral in outline.
+
+"Now--the Change!" she answered--"The Change when all things shall
+be made new!"
+
+A silence followed her words,--a strange and heavy silence.
+
+It was broken by her voice hushed to an extreme softness, yet
+clearly audible.
+
+"Good-night!--good-bye!"
+
+He turned impatiently away to avoid further leave-taking--then, on a
+sudden impulse, his mood changed.
+
+"Morgana!"
+
+The call echoed through emptiness. She was gone. He called again,--
+the long vowel in the strange name sounding like "Mor-ga-ar-na" as a
+shivering note on the G string of a violin may sound at the
+conclusion of a musical phrase. There was no reply. He was--as he
+had desired to be,--alone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+"She left New York several weeks ago,--didn't you know it? Dear me!-
+-I thought everybody was convulsed at the news!"
+
+The speaker, a young woman fashionably attired and seated in a
+rocking chair in the verandah of a favourite summer hotel on Long
+Island, raised her eyes and shrugged her shoulders expressively as
+she uttered these words to a man standing near her with a newspaper
+in his hand. He was a very stiff-jointed upright personage with iron
+grey hair and features hard enough to suggest their having been
+carved out of wood.
+
+"No--I didn't know it"--he said, enunciating his words in the
+deliberate dictatorial manner common to a certain type of American--
+"If I had I should have taken steps to prevent it."
+
+"You can't take steps to prevent anything Morgana Royal decides to
+do!" declared his companion. "She's a law to herself and to nobody
+else. I guess YOU couldn't stop her, Mr. Sam Gwent!"
+
+Mr. Sam Gwent permitted himself to smile. It was a smile that merely
+stretched the corners of his mouth a little,--it had no geniality.
+
+"Possibly not!" he answered--"But I should have had a try! I should
+certainly have pointed out to her the folly of her present
+adventure."
+
+"Do you know what it is?"
+
+He paused before replying.
+
+"Well,--hardly! But I have a guess!"
+
+"Is that so? Then I'll admit you're cleverer than I am!"
+
+"Thats a great compliment! But even Miss Lydia Herbert, brilliant
+woman of the world as she is, doesn't know EVERYTHING!"
+
+"Not quite!" she replied, stifling a tiny yawn--"Nor do you! But
+most things that are worth knowing I know. There's a lot one need
+never learn. The chief business of life nowadays is to have heaps of
+money and know how to spend it. That's Morgana's way."
+
+Mr. Sam Gwent folded up his newspaper, flattened it into a neat
+parcel, and put it in his pocket.
+
+"She has a great deal too much money"--he said, "and-to my thinking-
+-she does NOT know how to spend it,--not in the right womanly way.
+She has gone off in the midst of many duties to society at a time
+when she should have stayed--"
+
+Miss Herbert opened her brown, rather insolent eyes wide at this and
+laughed.
+
+"Does it matter?" she asked. "The old man left his pile to her
+'absolutely and unconditionally'--without any orders as to society
+duties. And I don't believe YOU'VE any authority over her, have you?
+Or are you suddenly turning up as a trustee?"
+
+He surveyed her with a kind of admiring sarcasm.
+
+"No. I'm only an uncle,"--he said--"Uncle of the boy that shot
+himself this morning for her sake!"
+
+Miss Herbert uttered a sharp cry. She was startled and horrified.
+
+"What!. . . Jack?. . . Shot himself?. . . Oh, how dreadful!--I'm--
+I'm sorry--!"
+
+"You're not!"--retorted Gwent--"So don't pretend. No one is sorry
+for anybody else nowadays. There's no time. And no inclination. Jack
+was always a fool--perhaps he's best out of it. I've just seen him--
+dead. He's better-looking so than when alive."
+
+She sprang up from her rocking chair in a blaze of indignation.
+
+"You are brutal!" she exclaimed, with a half sob--"Positively
+brutal!"
+
+"Not at all!" he answered, composedly--"Only commonplace. It is you
+advanced women that are brutal,--not we left-behind men. Jack was a
+fool, I say--he staked the whole of his game on Morgana Royal, and
+he lost. That was the last straw. If he could have married her he
+would have cleared all his debts over and over--and that's what he
+had hoped for. The disappointment was too much for him."
+
+"But--didn't he LOVE her?" Lydia Herbert put the question almost
+imperatively.
+
+Mr. Sam Gwent raised his eyebrows quizzically. "I guess you came out
+of the Middle Ages!" he observed--"What's 'love'? Did you ever know
+a woman with millions of money who got 'loved'? Not a bit of it! Her
+MONEY is loved--but not herself. She's the encumbrance to the cash."
+
+"Then--then--you mean to tell me Jack was only after the money--?"
+
+"What else should he be after? The woman? There are thousands of
+women,--all to be had for the asking--they pitch themselves at men
+headlong--no hesitation or modesty about them nowadays! Jack's
+asking would never have been refused by any one of them. But the
+millions of Morgana Royal are not to be got every day!"
+
+Miss Herbert's rather thin lips tightened into a close line,--she
+flicked some light tear-drops away from her eyes with a handkerchief
+as fine as a cobweb delicately perfumed, and stood silently looking
+out on the view from the verandah.
+
+"You see," pursued Gwent, in his cold, deliberate accents, "Jack was
+ruined financially. And he has all but ruined ME. Now he has taken
+himself out of the way with a pistol shot, and left me to face the
+music for him. Morgana Royal was his only chance. She led him on,--
+she certainly led him on. He thought he had her,--then--just as he
+was about to pin the butterfly to his specimen card, away it flew!"
+
+"Cute butterfly!" interjected Miss Herbert.
+
+"Maybe. Maybe not. We shall see. Anyway Jack's game is finished."
+
+"And I suppose this is why, as you say, Morgana has gone off 'in the
+midst of many social duties'? Was Jack one of her social duties?"
+
+Gwent gazed at her with an unrevealing placidity.
+
+"No. Not exactly," he replied--"I give her credit for not knowing
+anything of his intention to clear out. Though I don't think she
+would have tried to alter his intention if she had."
+
+Miss Herbert still surveyed the scenery.
+
+"Well,--I don't feel so sorry for him now you tell me it was only
+the money he was after"--she said--"I thought he was a finer
+character--"
+
+"You're talking 'Middle Ages' again,"--interrupted Gwent--"Who wants
+fine characters nowadays? The object of life is to LIVE, isn't it?
+And to 'live' means to get all you can for your own pleasure and
+profit,--take care of Number One!--and let the rest of the world do
+as it likes. It's quite YOUR method,--though you pretend it isn't!"
+
+"You're not very polite!" she said.
+
+"Now, why should I be?" he pursued, argumentatively--"What's
+politeness worth unless you want to flatter something for yourself
+out of somebody? I never flatter, and I'm never polite. I know just
+how you feel,--you haven't got as much money as you want and you're
+looking about for a fellow who HAS. Then you'll marry him--if you
+can. You, as a woman, are doing just what Jack did as a man. But,--
+if you miss your game, I don't think you'll commit suicide. You're
+too well-balanced for that. And I think you'll succeed in your aims-
+-if you're careful!"
+
+"If I'm careful?" she echoed, questioningly.
+
+"Yes--if you want a millionaire. Especially the old rascal you're
+after. Don't dress too 'loud.' Don't show ALL your back--leave some
+for him to think about. Don't paint your face,--let it alone. And
+be, or pretend to be, very considerate of folks' feelings. That'll
+do!"
+
+"Here endeth the first lesson!" she said. "Thanks, preacher Gwent! I
+guess I'll worry through!"
+
+"I guess you will!"--he answered, slowly. "I wish I was as certain
+of anything in the world as I am of THAT!"
+
+She was silent. The corners of her mouth twitched slightly as though
+she sought to conceal a smile. She watched her companion furtively
+as he took a cigar from a case in his pocket and lit it.
+
+"I must go and fix up the funeral business"--he said, "Jack has
+gone, and his remains must be disposed of. That's my affair. Just
+now his mother's crying over him,--and I can't stand that sort of
+thing. It gets over me."
+
+"Then you actually HAVE a heart?" she suggested.
+
+"I suppose so. I used to have. But it isn't the heart,--that's only
+a pumping muscle. I conclude it's the head."
+
+He puffed two or three rings of smoke into the clear air.
+
+"You know where she's gone?" he asked, suddenly.
+
+"Morgana?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Lydia Herbert hesitated.
+
+"I THINK I know," she replied at last--"But I'm not sure."
+
+"Well, I'M sure"--said Gwent--"She's after the special quarry that
+has given her the slip,--Roger Seaton. He went to California a month
+ago."
+
+"Then she's in California?"
+
+"Certain!"
+
+Mr. Gwent took another puff at his cigar.
+
+"You must have been in Washington when every one thought that he and
+she were going to make a matrimonial tie of it"--he went on--"Why,
+nothing else was talked of!"
+
+She nodded.
+
+"I know! I was there. But a man who has set his soul on science
+doesn't want a wife."
+
+"And what about a woman who has set her soul in the same direction?"
+he asked.
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"Oh, that's all popcorn! Morgana is not a scientist,--she's hardly a
+student. She just 'imagines' she can do things. But she can't."
+
+"Well! I'm not so sure!" and Gwent looked ruminative--"She's got a
+smart way of settling problems while the rest of us are talking
+about them."
+
+"To her own satisfaction only"--said Miss Herbert, ironically,--
+"Certainly not to the satisfaction of anybody else! She talks the
+wildest nonsense about controlling the world! Imagine it! A world
+controlled by Morgana!" She gave an impatient little shake of her
+skirts. "I do hate these sorts of mysterious, philosophising women,
+don't you? The old days must have been ever so much better! When it
+was all poetry and romance and beautiful idealism! When Dante and
+Beatrice were possible!"
+
+Gwent smiled sourly.
+
+"They never WERE possible!" he retorted--"Dante was, like all poets,
+a regular humbug. Any peg served to hang his stuff on,--from a child
+of nine to a girl of eighteen. The stupidest thing ever written is
+what he called his 'New Life' or 'Vita Nuova.' I read it once, and
+it made me pretty nigh sick. Think of all that twaddle about
+Beatrice 'denying him her most gracious salutation'! That any
+creature claiming to be a man could drivel along in such a style
+beats me altogether!"
+
+"It's perfectly lovely!" declared Miss Herbert--"You've no taste in
+literature, Mr. Gwent!"
+
+"I've no taste for humbug"--he answered--"That's so! I guess I know
+the difference between tragedy and comedy, even when I see them side
+by side." He flicked a long burnt ash from his cigar. "I've had a
+bit of comedy with you this morning--now I'm going to take up
+tragedy! I tell you there's more written in Jack's dead face than in
+all Dante!"
+
+"The tragedy of a lost gamble for money!" she said, with a scornful
+uplift of her eyebrows.
+
+He nodded.
+
+"That's so! It upsets the mental balance of a man more than a lost
+gamble for love!"
+
+And he walked away.
+
+Lydia Herbert, left to herself, played idly with the leaves of the
+vine that clambered about the high wooden columns of the verandah
+where she stood, admiring the sparkle of her diamond bangle which,
+like a thin circlet of dewdrops, glittered on her slim wrist. Now
+and then she looked far out to the sea gleaming in the burning sun,
+and allowed her thoughts to wander from herself and her elegant
+clothes to some of the social incidents in which she had taken part
+during the past couple of months. She recalled the magnificent ball
+given by Morgana Royal at her regal home, when all the fashion and
+frivolity of the noted "Four Hundred" were assembled, and when the
+one whispered topic of conversation among gossips was the
+possibility of the marriage of one of the richest women in the world
+to a shabbily clothed scientist without a penny, save what he earned
+with considerable difficulty. Morgana herself played the part of an
+enigma. She laughed, shook her head, and moved her daintily attired
+person through the crowd of her guests with all the gliding grace of
+a fairy vision in white draperies showered with diamonds, but gave
+no hint of special favour or attention to any man, not even to Roger
+Seaton, the scientist in question, who stood apart from the dancing
+throng, in a kind of frowning disdain, looking on, much as one might
+fancy a forest animal looking at the last gambols of prey It
+purposed to devour. He had taken the first convenient interval to
+disappear, and as he did not return, Miss Herbert had asked her
+hostess what had become of him? Morgana, her cheeks flushed prettily
+by a just-finished dance, smiled in surprise at the question.
+
+"How should I know?" she replied--"I am not his keeper?"
+
+"But--but--you are interested in him?" Lydia suggested.
+
+"Interested? Oh, yes! Who would not be interested in a man who says
+he can destroy half the world if he wants to! He assumes to be a
+sort of deity, you know!--Jove and his thunderbolts in the shape of
+a man in a badly cut suit of modern clothes! Isn't it fun!" She gave
+a little peal of laughter. "And every one in the room to-night
+thinks I am going to marry him!"
+
+"And are you not?"
+
+"Can you imagine it! ME, married? Lydia, Lydia, do you take me for a
+fool!" She laughed again--then grew suddenly serious. "To think of
+such a thing! Fancy ME!--giving my life into the keeping of a
+scientific wizard who, if he chose, could reduce me to a little heap
+of dust in two minutes, and no one any the wiser! Thank you! The
+sensational press has been pretty full lately of men's brutalities
+to women,--and I've no intention of adding myself to the list of
+victims! Men ARE brutes! They were born brutes, and brutes they will
+remain!"
+
+"Then you don't like him?" persisted Lydia, moved, in spite of
+herself, by curiosity, and also by a vague wonder at the strange
+brilliancy of complexion and eyes which gave to Morgana a beauty
+quite unattainable by features only--"You're not set on him?"
+
+Morgana held up a finger.
+
+"Listen!" she said--"Isn't that a lovely valse? Doesn't the music
+seem to sweep round and tie us all up in a garland of melody! How
+far, far above all these twirling human microbes it is!--as far as
+heaven from earth! If we could really obey the call of that music we
+should rise on wings and fly to such wonderful worlds!--as it is, we
+can only hop round and round like motes in a sunbeam and imagine we
+are enjoying ourselves for an hour or two! But the music means so
+much more!" She paused, enrapt;--then in a lighter tone went on--
+"And you think I would marry? I would not marry an emperor if there
+were one worth having--which there isn't!--and as for Roger Seaton,
+I certainly am not 'set' on him as you so elegantly put it! And he's
+not 'set' on me. We're both 'set' on something else!"
+
+She was standing near an open window as she spoke, and she looked up
+at the dark purple sky sprinkled with stars. She continued slowly,
+and with emphasis--
+
+"I might--possibly I might--have helped him to that something else--
+if I had not discovered something more!"
+
+She lifted her hand with a commanding gesture as though
+unconsciously,--then let it drop at her side. Lydia Herbert looked
+at her perplexedly.
+
+"You talk so very strangely!" she said.
+
+Morgana smiled.
+
+"Yes, I know I do!" she admitted--"I am what old Scotswomen call
+'fey'! You know I was born away in the Hebrides,--my father was a
+poor herder of sheep at one time before he came over to the States.
+I was only a baby when I was carried away from the islands of mist
+and rain--but I was 'fey' from my birth--"
+
+"What is fey?" interrupted Miss Herbert.
+
+"It's just everything that everybody else is NOT"--Morgana replied--
+"'Fey' people are magic people; they see what no one else sees,--
+they hear voices that no one else hears--voices that whisper secrets
+and tell of wonders as yet undiscovered--" She broke off suddenly.
+"We must not stay talking here"--she resumed-"All the folks will say
+we are planning the bridesmaids' dresses and that the very day of
+the ceremony is fixed! But you can be sure that I am not going to
+marry anybody--least of all Roger Seaton!"
+
+"You like him though! I can see you like him!"
+
+"Of course I like him! He's a human magnet,--he 'draws'! You fly
+towards him as if he were a bit of rubbed sealing-wax and you a
+snippet of paper! But you soon drop off! Oh, that valse! Isn't it
+entrancing!"
+
+And, swinging herself round lightly like a bell-flower in a breeze
+she danced off alone and vanished in the crowd of her guests.
+
+Lydia Herbert recalled this conversation now, as she stood looking
+from the vine-clad verandah of her hotel towards the sea, and again
+saw, as in a vision, the face and eyes of her "fey" friend,--a face
+by no means beautiful in feature, but full of a sparkling attraction
+which was almost irresistible.
+
+"Nothing in her!" had declared New York society generally--"Except
+her money! And her hair--but not even that unless she lets it down!"
+
+Lydia had seen it so "let down," once, and only once, and the sight
+of such a glistening rope of gold had fairly startled her.
+
+"All your own?" she had gasped.
+
+And with a twinkling smile, and comic hesitation of manner Morgana
+had answered.
+
+"I--I THINK it is! It seems so! I don't believe it will come off
+unless you pull VERY hard!"
+
+Lydia had not pulled hard, but she had felt the soft rippling mass
+falling from head to far below the knee, and had silently envied the
+owner its possession.
+
+"It's a great bother," Morgana declared--"I never know what to do
+with it. I can't dress it 'fashionably' one bit, and when I twist it
+up it's so fine it goes into nothing and never looks the quantity it
+is. However, we must all have our troubles!--with some it's teeth--
+with others it's ankles--we're never QUITE all right! The thing is
+to endure without complaining!"
+
+"And this curious creature who talked "so very strangely," possessed
+millions of money! Her father, who had arrived in the States from
+the wildest north of Scotland with practically not a penny, had so
+gathered and garnered every opportunity that came in his way that
+every investment he touched seemed to turn to five times its first
+value under his fingers. When his wife died very soon after his
+wealth began to accumulate, he was beset by women of beauty and
+position eager to take her place, but he was adamant against all
+their blandishments and remained a widower, devoting his entire care
+to the one child he had brought with him as an infant from the
+Highland hills, and to whom he gave a brilliant but desultory and
+uncommon education. Life seemed to swirl round him in a glittering
+ring of gold of which he made himself the centre,--and when he died
+suddenly "from overstrain" as the doctors said, people were almost
+frightened to name the vast fortune his daughter inherited,
+accustomed as they were to the counting of many millions. And now---
+?"
+
+"California!" mused Lydia--"Sam Gwent thinks she has gone there
+after Roger Seaton. But what can be her object if she doesn't care
+for him? It's far more likely she's started for Sicily--she's having
+a palace built there for her small self to live in 'all by her
+lonesome'! Well! She can afford it!"
+
+And with a short sigh she let go her train of thought and left the
+verandah,--it was time to change her costume and prepare "effects"
+to dazzle and bewilder the uncertain mind of a crafty old Croesus
+who, having freely enjoyed himself as a bachelor up to his present
+age of seventy-four, was now looking about for a young strong woman
+to manage his house and be a nurse and attendant for him in his
+declining years, for which service, should she be suitable, he would
+concede to her the name of "wife" in order to give stability to her
+position. And Lydia Herbert herself was privately quite aware of his
+views. Moreover she was entirely willing to accommodate herself to
+them for the sake of riches and a luxurious life, and the
+"settlement" she meant to insist upon if her plans ripened to
+fulfilment. She had no great ambitions; few women of her social
+class have. To be well housed, well fed and well clothed, and
+enabled to do the fashionable round without hindrance--this was all
+she sought, and of romance, sentiment, emotion or idealism she had
+none. Now and again she caught the flash of a thought in her brain
+higher than the level of material needs, but dismissed it more
+quickly than it came as--"Ridiculous! Absolute nonsense! Like
+Morgana!"
+
+And to be like Morgana, meant to be like what cynics designate "an
+impossible woman,"--independent of opinions and therefore "not
+understood of the people."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+"Why do you stare at me? You have such big eyes!"
+
+Morgana, dotted only in a white silk nightgown, sitting on the edge
+of her bed with her small rosy toes peeping out beneath the tiny
+frill of her thin garment, looked at the broad-shouldered handsome
+girl Manella who had just brought in her breakfast tray and now
+stood regarding her with an odd expression of mingled admiration and
+shyness.
+
+"Such big eyes!" she repeated--"Like great head-lamps flaring out of
+that motor-brain of yours! What do you see in me?"
+
+Manella's brown skin flushed crimson.
+
+"Something I have never seen before!" she answered--"You are so
+small and white! Not like a woman at all!"
+
+Morgana laughed merrily.
+
+"Not like a woman! Oh dear! What am I like then?"
+
+Manella's eyes grew darker than ever in the effort to explain her
+thought.
+
+"I do not know"--she said, hesitatingly--"But--once--here in this
+garden--we found a wonderful butterfly with white wings--all white,-
+-and it was resting on a scarlet flower. We all went out to look at
+it, because it was unlike any other butterfly we had ever seen,--its
+wings were like velvet or swansdown. You remind me of that
+butterfly."
+
+Morgana smiled.
+
+"Did it fly away?"
+
+"Oh, yes. Very soon! And an hour or so after it had flown, the
+scarlet flower where it had rested was dead."
+
+"Most thrilling!" And Morgana gave a little yawn. "Is that
+breakfast? Yes? Stay with me while I have it! Are you the head
+chambermaid at the Plaza?"
+
+Manella shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"I do not know what I am! I do everything I am asked to do as well
+as I can."
+
+"Obliging creature! And are you well paid?"
+
+"As much as I want"--Manella answered, indifferently. "But there is
+no pleasure in the work."
+
+"Is there pleasure in ANY work?"
+
+"If one works for a person one loves,--surely yes!" the girl
+murmured as if she were speaking to herself, "The days would be too
+short for all the work to be done!"
+
+Morgana glanced at her, and the flash of her eyes had the grey-blue
+of lightning. Then she poured out the coffee and tasted it.
+
+"Not bad!" she commented--"Did you make it?"
+
+Manella nodded, and went on talking at random.
+
+"I daresay it's not as good as it ought to be"--she said--"If you
+had brought your own maid I should have asked HER to make it. Women
+of your class like their food served differently to us poor folk,
+and I don't know their ways."
+
+Morgana laughed.
+
+"You quaint, handsome thing! What do you know about it? What, in
+your opinion, IS my class?"
+
+Manella pulled nervously at the ends of the bright coloured kerchief
+she wore knotted across her bosom, and hesitated a moment.
+
+"Well, for one thing you are rich"--she said, at last--"There is no
+mistaking that. Your lovely clothes--you must spend a fortune on
+them! Then--all the people here wonder at your automobile--and your
+chauffeur says it is the most perfect one ever made! And all these
+riches make you think you ought to have everything just as you fancy
+it. I suppose you ought--I'm not sure! I don't believe you have much
+feeling,--you couldn't, you know! It is not as if you wanted
+something very badly and there was no chance of your getting it,--
+your money would buy all you could desire. It would even buy you a
+man!"
+
+Morgana paused in the act of pouring out a second cup of coffee, and
+her face dimpled with amusement.
+
+"Buy me a man!" she echoed--"You think it would?"
+
+"Of course it would!" Manella averred--"If you wanted one, which I
+daresay you don't. For all I know, you may be like the man who is
+living in the consumption hut on the hill,--he ought to have a
+woman, but he doesn't want one."
+
+Morgana buttered her little breakfast roll very delicately.
+
+"The man who lives in the consumption hut on the hill!" she
+repeated, slowly, and with a smile--"What man is that?"
+
+"I don't know--" and Manella's large dark eyes filled with a
+strangely wistful perplexity. "He is a stranger--and he's not ill at
+all. He is big and strong and healthy. But he has chosen to live in
+the 'house of the dying,' as it is sometimes called--where people
+from the Plaza go when there's no more hope for them. He likes to be
+quite alone--he thinks and writes all day. I take him milk and
+bread,--it is all he orders from the Plaza. I would be his woman. I
+would work for him from morning till night. But he will not have
+me."
+
+Morgana raised her eyes, glittering with the "fey" light in them
+that often bewildered and rather scared her friends.
+
+"You would be his woman? You are in love with him?" she said.
+
+Something in her look checked Manella's natural impulse to confide
+in one of her own sex.
+
+"No, I am not!"--she answered coldly--"I have said too much."
+
+Morgana smiled, and stretching out her small white hand, adorned
+with its sparkling rings, laid it caressingly on the girl's brown
+wrist.
+
+"You are a dear!"--she murmured, lazily--"Just a dear! A big,
+beautiful creature with a heart! That's the trouble--your heart!
+You've found a man living selfishly alone, scribbling what he
+perhaps thinks are the most wonderful things ever put on paper, when
+they are very likely nothing but rubbish, and it enters into your
+head that he wants mothering and loving! He doesn't want anything of
+the sort! And YOU want to love and mother him! Oh heavens!--have you
+ever thought what loving and mothering mean?"
+
+Manella drew a quick soft breath.
+
+"All the world, surely!" she answered, with emotion--"To love!--to
+possess the one we love, body and soul!--and to mother a life born
+of such love!--THAT must be heaven!"
+
+The smile flitted away from Morgana's lips, and her expression
+became almost sorrowful.
+
+"You are like a trusting animal!" she said--"An animal all innocent
+of guns and steel-traps! You poor girl! I should like you to come
+with me out of these mountain solitudes into the world! What is your
+name?"
+
+"Manella."
+
+"Manella--what?"
+
+"Manella Soriso"--the girl answered--"I am Spanish by both parents,-
+-they are dead now. I was born at Monterey."
+
+Morgana began to hum softly--
+
+    "Under the walls of Monterey
+     At dawn the bugles began to play
+     Come forth to thy death
+     Victor Galbraith."
+
+She broke off,--then said--
+
+"You have not seen many men?"
+
+"Oh, yes, I have!" and Manella tossed her head airily--"Men all more
+or less alike--greedy for dollars, fond of smoke and cinema women,--
+I do not care for them. Some have asked me to marry, but I would
+rather hang myself than be wife to one of them!"
+
+Morgana slid off the edge of her bed and stood upright, her white
+silk nightgown falling symmetrically round her small figure. With a
+dexterous movement she loosened the knot into which she had twisted
+her hair for the night, and it fell in a sinuous coil like a golden
+snake from head to knee. Manella stepped back in amazement.
+
+"Oh!" she cried--"How beautiful! I have quite as much in quantity,
+but it is black and heavy--ugly!--no good. And he,--that man who
+lives in the hut on the hill--says there is nothing he hates so much
+as a woman with golden hair! How can he hate such a lovely thing!"
+
+Morgana shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"Each one to his taste!" she said, airily--"Some like black hair--
+some red--some gold--some nut-brown. But does it matter at all what
+men think or care for? To me it is perfectly indifferent! And you
+are quite right to prefer hanging to marriage--I do, myself!"
+
+Fascinated by her wonderful elfin look as she stood like a white
+iris in its silken sheath, her small body's outline showing dimly
+through the folds of her garment, Manella drew nearer, somewhat
+timidly.
+
+"Ah, but I do not mean that I prefer hanging to real, true
+marriage!" she said--"When one loves, it is different! In love I
+would rather hang than not give myself to the man I love--give
+myself in all I am, and all I have! And YOU--you who look so pretty
+and wonderful--almost like a fairy!--do YOU not feel like that too?"
+
+Morgana laughed--a little laugh sweet and cold as rain tinkling on
+glass.
+
+"No, indeed!" she answered--"I have never felt like THAT! I hope I
+shall never feel like THAT! To feel like THAT is to feel like the
+female beasts of the field who only wait and live to be used by the
+males, giving 'all they are and all they have,' poor creatures! The
+bull does not 'love' the cow--he gives her a calf. When the calf is
+born and old enough to get along by itself, it forgets its mother
+just as its mother forgets IT, while the sire is blissfully
+indifferent to both! It's really the same thing with human animals,-
+-especially nowadays--only we haven't the honesty to admit it! No,
+Manella Soriso!--with your good looks you ought to be far above
+'feeling like THAT!--you are a nobler creature than a cow! No wonder
+men despise women who are always on the cow level!"
+
+She laughed again, and tripped lightly to the looking-glass.
+
+"I must dress;"--she said--"And you can take a message to my
+chauffeur and tell him to get everything ready to start. I've had a
+lovely night's rest and am quite fit for a long run."
+
+"Oh, are you going?" and Manella gave a little cry of pain--"I am
+sorry! I do want you to stay!"
+
+Morgana's eyes flashed mingled humour and disdain. "You quaint
+creature! Why should I stay? There's nothing to stay for!"
+
+"If there's nothing to stay for, why did you come?"
+
+This was an unexpected question, the result of a subconscious
+suggestion in Manella's mind which she herself could not have
+explained.
+
+Morgana seemed amused.
+
+"What did I come for? Really, I hardly know! I am full of odd whims
+and fancies, and I like to humour myself in my various ways. I think
+I wanted to see a bit of California,--that's all!"
+
+"Then why not see more of it?" persisted Manella.
+
+"Enough is better than too much!" laughed Morgana--"I am easily
+bored! This Plaza hotel would bore me to death! What do you want me
+to stay for? To see your man on the mountain?"
+
+"No!" Manella replied with sudden sharpness--"No! I would not like
+you to see him! He would either hate you or love you!"
+
+The grey-blue lightning flash glittered in Morgana's eyes.
+
+"You ARE a curious girl!" she said, slowly--"You might be a tragic
+actress and make your fortune on the stage, with that voice and that
+look! And yet you stay here as 'help' in a Sanatorium! Well! It's a
+dull, dreary way of living, but I suppose you like it!"
+
+"I DON'T like it!" declared Manella, vehemently, "I hate it! But
+what am I to do? I have no home and no money. I must earn my living
+somehow."
+
+"Will you come away with me?" said Morgana--"I'll take you at once
+if you like!"
+
+Manella stared in a kind of child-like wonderment,--her big dusky
+eyes grew brilliant,--then clouded with a sombre sadness.
+
+"Thank you, Senora!" she answered, pronouncing the Spanish form of
+address with a lingering sweetness, "It is very good of you! But I
+should not please you. I do not know the world, and I am not quick
+to learn. I am better where I am."
+
+A little smile, dreamy and mysterious, crept round Morgana's lips.
+
+"Yes!-perhaps you are!" she said--"I understand! You would not like
+to leave HIM! I am sure that is so! You want to feed your big bear
+regularly with bread and milk--yes, you poor deluded child! Courage!
+You may still have a chance to be, as you say, 'his woman!' And when
+you are I wonder how you will like it!"
+
+She laughed, and began to brush her shining hair out in two silky
+lengths on either side. Manella gazed and gazed at the glittering
+splendour till she could gaze no more for sheer envy, and then she
+turned slowly and left the room.
+
+Alone, Morgana continued brushing her hair meditatively,--then,
+twisting it up in a great coil out of her way, she proceeded with
+her toilette. Everything of the very finest and daintiest was hers
+to wear, from the silken hose to the delicate lace camisole, and
+when she reached the finishing point in her admirably cut summer
+serge gown and becoming close-fitting hat, she studied herself from
+head to foot in the mirror with fastidious care to be sure that
+every detail of her costume was perfect. She was fully aware that
+she was not a newspaper camera "beauty" and that she had subtle
+points of attraction which no camera could ever catch, and it was
+just these points which she knew how to emphasise.
+
+"I hate untidy travellers!"--she would say--"Horrors of men and
+women in oil-skins, smelling of petrol! No goblin ever seen in a
+nightmare could be uglier than the ordinary motorist!"
+
+She had no luggage with her, save an adaptable suitcase which, she
+declared "held everything." This she quickly packed and locked,
+ready for her journey. Then she stepped to the window and waved her
+hand towards the near hill and the "hut of the dying."
+
+"Fool of a bear man!" she said, apostrophising the individual she
+chose to call by that name--"Here you come along to a wild place in
+California running away from ME,--and here you find a sort of
+untutored female savage eager and willing to be your 'woman!' Well,
+why not? She's just the kind of thing you want--to fetch wood, draw
+water, cook food, and--bear children! And when the children come
+they'll run about the hill like savages themselves, and yell and
+dance and be greedy and dirty--and you'll presently wonder whether
+you are a civilised man or a species of unthinking baboon! You will
+be living the baboon life,--and your brain will grow thicker and
+harder as you grow older,--and your great scientific discovery will
+be buried in the thickness and hardness and never see the light of
+day! All this, IF she is 'your woman!' It's a great 'if' of course!-
+-but she's big and handsome, with a beautiful body and splendid
+strength, and I never heard of a man who could resist beauty and
+strength together. As for ME and my 'vulgar wealth' as you call it,
+I'm a little wisp of straw not worth your thought!--or so you
+assume--no, good Bear!--not till we come to a tussle--if we ever
+do!"
+
+She took up her gloves and hand-bag and went downstairs, entering
+the broad, airy flower-bordered lounge of the Plaza with a friendly
+nod and smile to the book-keeper in the office where she paid her
+bill. Her chauffeur, a smart Frenchman in quiet livery, was awaiting
+her with an assistant groom or page beside him.
+
+"We go on to-day, Madame?" he enquired.
+
+"Yes,--we go on"--she replied--"as quickly and as far as possible.
+Just fetch my valise--it's ready packed in my room."
+
+The groom hurried away to obey this order, and Morgana glancing
+around her saw that she was an object of intense curiosity to some
+of the hotel inmates who were in the lounge--men and women both. Her
+grey-blue eyes flashed over them all carelessly and lighted on
+Manella who stood shrinking aside in a corner. To her she beckoned
+smilingly.
+
+"Come and see me off!" she said--"Take a look at my car and see how
+you'd like to travel in it!"
+
+Manella pursed her lips and shook her head.
+
+"I'd rather not!" she murmured--"It's no use looking at what one can
+never have!"
+
+Morgana laughed.
+
+"As you please!" she said--"You are an odd girl, but you are quite
+beautiful! Don't forget that! Tell the man on the mountain that I
+said so!--quite beautiful! Good-bye!"
+
+She passed through the lounge with a swift grace of movement and
+entered her sumptuous limousine, lined richly in corded rose silk
+and fitted with every imaginable luxury like a queen's boudoir on
+wheels, while Manella craned her neck forward to see the last of
+her. Her valise was quickly strapped in place, and in another minute
+to the sound of a high silvery bugle note (which was the only sort
+of "hooter" she would tolerate) the car glided noiselessly away down
+the broad, dusty white road, its polished enamel and silver points
+glittering like streaks of light vanishing into deeper light as it
+disappeared.
+
+"There goes the richest woman in America!" said the hotel clerk for
+the benefit of anyone who might care to listen to the announcement,-
+-"Morgana Royal!"
+
+"Is that so?" drawled a sallow-faced man, reclining in an invalid
+chair--"She's not much to look at!"
+
+And he yawned expansively.
+
+He was right. She was not much to look at. But she was more than
+looks ever made. So, with sorrow and with envy, thought Manella, who
+instinctively felt that though she herself might be something to
+look at and "quite beautiful," she was nothing else. She had never
+heard the word "fey." The mystic glamour of the Western Highlands
+was shut away from her by the wide barrier of many seas and curtains
+of cloud. And therefore she did not know that "fey" women are a race
+apart from all other women in the world.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+That evening at sunset Manella made her way towards the hill and the
+"House of the Dying," moved by she knew not what strange impulse.
+She had no excuse whatever for going; she knew that the man living
+up there in whom she was so much interested had as much food for
+three days as he asked for or desired, and that he was likely to be
+vexed at the very sight of her. Yet she had an eager wish to tell
+him something about the wonderful little creature with lightning
+eyes who had left the Plaza that morning and had told her, Manella,
+that she was "quite beautiful." Pride, and an innocent feminine
+vanity thrilled her; "if another woman thinks so, it must be so,"--
+she argued, being aware that women seldom admire each other. She
+walked swiftly, with head bent,--and was brought to a startled halt
+by meeting and almost running against the very individual she
+sought, who in his noiseless canvas shoes and with his panther-like
+tread had come upon her unawares. Checked in her progress she stood
+still, her eyes quickly lifted, her lips apart. In her adoration of
+the strength and magnificent physique of the stranger whom she knew
+only as a stranger, she thought he looked splendid as a god
+descending from the hill. Far from feeling god-like, he frowned as
+he saw her.
+
+"Where are you going?" he demanded, brusquely.
+
+The rich colour warmed her cheeks to a rose-red that matched the
+sunset.
+
+"I was going--to see if you--if you wanted anything"--she stammered,
+almost humbly.
+
+"You know I do not"--he said--"You can spare yourself the trouble."
+
+She drew herself up with a slight air of offence.
+
+"If you want nothing why do you come down into the valley?" she
+asked. "You say you hate the Plaza!"
+
+"I do!" and he spoke almost vindictively--"But, at the moment,
+there's some one there I want to see."
+
+Her black eyes opened inquisitively.
+
+"A man?"
+
+"No. Strange to say, a woman."
+
+A sudden light flashed on her mind.
+
+"I know!" she exclaimed--"But you will not see her! She has gone!"
+
+"What do you mean?" he asked, impatiently--"What do you know?"
+
+"Oh, I know nothing!" and there was a sobbing note of pathos in her
+voice--"But I feel HERE!"--and she pressed her hands against her
+bosom--"something tells me that you have seen HER--the little
+wonderful white woman, sweetly perfumed like a rose,--with her silks
+and jewels and her fairy car!--and her golden hair. . . ah!--you
+said you hated a woman with golden hair! Is that the woman you
+hate?"
+
+He stood looking at her with an amused, half scornful expression.
+
+"Hate is too strong a word"--he answered--"She isn't worth hating!"
+
+Her brows contracted in a frown.
+
+"I do not believe THAT!"--she said--"You are not speaking truly.
+More likely it is, I think, you love her!"
+
+He caught her roughly by the arm.
+
+"Stop that!" he exclaimed, angrily--"You are foolish and insolent!
+Whether I love or hate anybody or anything is no affair of yours!
+How dare you speak to me as if it were!"
+
+She shrank away from him. Her lips quivered, and tears welled
+through her lashes.
+
+"Forgive me! . . . oh, forgive!" she murmured, pleadingly--"I am
+sorry! . . ."
+
+"So you ought to be!" he retorted--"You--Manella--imagine yourself
+in love with me . . . yes, you do!--and you cannot leave me alone!
+No amorous man ever cadged round for love as much or as shamelessly
+as an amorous woman! Then you see another woman on the scene, and
+though she's nothing but a stray visitor at the Plaza where you help
+wash up the plates and dishes, you suddenly conceive a lot of
+romantic foolery in your head and imagine me to be mysteriously
+connected with her! Oh, for God's sake don't cry! It's the most
+awful bore! There's nothing to cry for. You've set me up like a sort
+of doll in a shrine and you want to worship me--well!--I simply
+won't be worshipped. As for your 'little wonderful white woman
+sweetly perfumed like a rose,' I don't mind saying that I know her.
+And I don't mind also telling you that she came up the hill last
+night to ferret me out."
+
+Step by step Manella drew nearer, her eyes blazing.
+
+"She went to see you?--She did THAT!--In the darkness?--like a thief
+or a serpent!"
+
+He laughed aloud.
+
+"No thief and no serpent in it!" he said--"And no darkness, but in
+the full light of the moon! Such a moon it was, too! A regular stage
+moon! A perfect setting for such an actress, in her white gown and
+her rope of gold hair! Yes--it was very well planned!--effective in
+its way, though it left me cold!"
+
+"Ah, but it did NOT leave you cold!" cried Manella; "Else you would
+not have come down to see her to-day! You say she went 'to ferret
+you out'--"
+
+"Of course she did"--he interrupted her--"She would ferret out any
+man she wanted for the moment. Forests could not hide him,--caves
+could not cover him if she made up her mind to find him. I had hoped
+she would not find ME--but she has--however,--you say she has gone--
+"
+
+The colour had fled from Manella's face,--she was pale and rigid.
+
+"She will come back," she said stiffly.
+
+"I hope not!" And he threw himself carelessly down on the turf to
+rest--"Come and sit beside me here and tell me what she said to
+you!"
+
+But Manella was silent. Her dark, passionate eyes rested upon him
+with a world of scorn and sorrow in their glowing depths.
+
+"Come!" he repeated--"Don't stare at me as if I were some new sort
+of reptile!"
+
+"I think you are!" she said, coldly--"You seem to be a man, but you
+have not the feelings of a man!"
+
+"Oh, have I not!" and he gave a light gesture of indifference--"I
+have the feelings of a modern man,--the 'Kultur' of a perfect super-
+German! Yes, that is so! Sentiment is the mere fly-trap of
+sensuality--the feeler thrust out to scent the prey, but once the
+fly is caught, the trap closes. Do you understand? No, of course you
+don't! You are a dreadfully primitive woman!"
+
+"I did not think you were German," she said.
+
+"Nor did I!" and he laughed--"Nor am I. I said just now that I had
+the 'Kultur' of a super-German--and a super-German means something
+above every other male creature except himself. He cannot get away
+from himself--nor can I! That's the trouble! Come, obey me, Manella!
+Sit down here beside me!"
+
+Very slowly and very reluctantly she did as he requested. She sat on
+the grass some three or four paces off. He stretched out a hand to
+touch her, but she pushed it back very decidedly. He smiled.
+
+"I mustn't make love to you this morning, eh?" he queried. "All
+right! I don't want to make love--it doesn't interest me--I only
+want to put you in a good temper! You are like a rumpled pussy-cat--
+your fur must be stroked the right way."
+
+"YOU will not stroke it so!" said Manella, disdainfully.
+
+"No?"
+
+"No. Never again!"
+
+"Oh, dire tragedy!" And he stretched himself out on the turf with
+his arms above his head--"But what does it matter! Give me your
+news, silly child! What did the 'little wonderful white woman' say
+to you?"
+
+"You want to know?"
+
+"I think so! I am conscious of a certain barbaric spirit of
+curiosity, like that of a savage who sees a photograph of himself
+for the first time! Yes! I want to know what the modern feminine
+said to the primitive!"
+
+Manella gave an impatient gesture.
+
+"I do not understand all your fine words"--she said--"But I will
+answer you. I told her about you--how you had come to live in the
+hut for the dying on the hill rather than at the Plaza--and how I
+took to you all the food you asked for, and she seemed amused--"
+
+"Amused?" he echoed.
+
+"Yes--amused. She laughed,--she looks very pretty when she laughs.
+And--and she seemed to fancy--"
+
+He lifted himself upright in a sitting posture.
+
+"Seemed to fancy? . . . what?--"
+
+"That I was not bad to look at--" and Manella, gathering sudden
+boldness, lifted her dark eyes to his face--"She said I could tell
+you that she thinks me quite beautiful! Yes!--quite beautiful!"
+
+He smiled--a smile that was more like a sneer.
+
+"So you are! I've told you so, often. 'There needs no ghost come
+from the grave' to emphasise the fact. But she--the purring cat!--
+she told you to repeat her opinion to me, because--can you guess
+why?"
+
+"No!"
+
+"Simpleton! Because she wishes you to convey to me the message that
+she considers me your lover and that she admires my taste! Now
+she'll go back to New York full of the story! Subtle little devil!
+But I am not your lover, and never shall be,--not even for half an
+hour!"
+
+Manella sprang up from the turf where she had been sitting.
+
+"I know that!" she said, and her splendid eyes flashed proud
+defiance--"I know I have been a fool to let myself care for you! I
+do not know why I did--it was an illness! But I am well now!"
+
+"You are well now? Good! O let us be joyful! Keep well, Manella!--
+and be 'quite beautiful'--as you are! To be quite beautiful is a
+fine thing--not so fine as it used to be in the Greek period--still,
+it has its advantages! I wonder what you will do with your beauty?"
+
+As he spoke, he rose, stretching and shaking him self like a forest
+animal.
+
+"What will you do with it?" he repeated--"You must give it to
+somebody! You must transmit it to your offspring! That's the old law
+of nature--it's getting a bit monotonous, still it's the law! Now
+she--the wonderful white woman--she's all for upsetting the law!
+Fortunately she's not beautiful--"
+
+"She IS!" exclaimed Manella--"_I_ think her so!" He looked down upon
+her from his superior height with a tolerant amusement.
+
+"Really! YOU think her so! And SHE thinks you so! Quite a mutual
+admiration society! And both of you obsessed by the same one man! I
+pity that man! The only thing for him to do is to keep out of it!
+No, Manella!--think as you like, she is not beautiful. You ARE
+beautiful. But SHE is clever, You are NOT clever. You may thank God
+for that! SHE is outrageously, unnaturally, cursedly clever! And her
+cleverness makes her see the sham of life all through; the absurdity
+of birth that ends in death--the freakishness of civilisation to no
+purpose--and she's out for something else. She wants some thing
+newer than sex-attraction and family life. A husband would bore her
+to extinction--the care of children would send her into a lunatic
+asylum!"
+
+Manella looked bewildered.
+
+"I cannot understand!" she said--"A woman lives for husband and
+children!"
+
+"SOME women do!" he answered--"Not all! There are a good few who
+don't want to stay on the animal level. Men try to keep them there--
+but it's a losing game nowadays. ('Foxes have holes and birds of the
+air have nests'--but we cannot fail to see that when Mother Fox has
+reared her puppies she sends them off about their own business and
+doesn't know them any more--likewise Mother Bird does the same.
+Nature has no sentiment.) We have, because we cultivate artificial
+feelings--we imagine we 'love,' when we only want something that
+pleases us for the moment. To live, as you say, for husband and
+children would make a woman a slave--a great many women are slaves--
+but they are beginning to get emancipated--the woman with the gold
+hair, whom you so much admire, is emancipated."
+
+Manella gave a slight disdainful movement of her head.
+
+"That only means she is free to do as she likes"--she said--"To
+marry or not to marry--to love or not to love. I think if she loved
+at all, she would love very greatly. Why did she go so secretly in
+the evening to see you? I suppose she loves you!"
+
+A sudden red flush of anger coloured his brow.
+
+"Yes"--he answered with a kind of vindictive slowness--"I suppose
+she does! You, Manella, are after me as a man merely--she is after
+me as a Brain! You would steal my physical liberty,--she would steal
+my innermost thought! And you will both be disappointed! Neither my
+body nor my brain shall ever be dominated by any woman!"
+
+He turned from her abruptly and began the ascent that led to his
+solitary retreat. Once he looked back--
+
+"Don't let me see you for two days at least!" he called--"I've more
+than enough food to keep me going."
+
+He strode on, and Manella stood watching him, her tall handsome
+figure silhouetted against the burning sky. Her dark eyes were moist
+with suppressed tears of shame and suffering,--she felt herself to
+be wronged and slighted undeservedly. And beneath this personal
+emotion came now a smarting sense of jealousy, for in spite of all
+he had said, she felt that there was some secret between him and
+"the little wonderful white woman," which she could not guess and
+which was probably the reason of his self-sought exile and
+seclusion.
+
+"I wish now I had gone with her!" she mused--"for if I am 'quite
+beautiful,' as she said, she might have helped me in the world,--I
+might have become a lady!"
+
+She walked slowly and dejectedly back to the Plaza, knowing in her
+heart that lady or no lady, her rich beauty was useless to her,
+inasmuch as it made no effect on the one man she had elected to care
+for, unwanted and unasked. Certain physiologists teach that the law
+of natural selection is that the female should choose her mate, but
+the difficulty along this line of argument is that she may choose
+where her choice is unwelcome and irresponsive. Manella was a
+splendid type of primitive womanhood,--healthy, warm-blooded and
+full of hymeneal passion,--as a wife she would have been devoted,--
+as a mother superb in her tenderness; but, measured by modern
+standards of advanced and restless femininity she was a mere drudge,
+without the ability to think for herself or to analyse subtleties of
+emotion. Intellectuality had no part in her; most people's talk was
+for her meaningless, and she had not the patience to listen to any
+conversation that rose above the food and business of the day. She
+was confused and bewildered by everything the strange recluse on the
+hill said to her,--she could not follow him at all,--and yet, the
+purely physical attraction he exercised over her nature drew her to
+him like a magnet and kept her in a state of feverish craving for a
+love she knew she could never win. She would have gladly been his
+servant on the mere chance and hope that possibly in some moment of
+abandonment he might have yielded to the importunity of her
+tenderness; Adonis himself in all the freshness of his youth never
+exercised a more potent spell upon enamoured Venus than this plain,
+big bearded man over the lonely, untutored Californian girl with the
+large loveliness of a goddess and the soul of a little child. What
+was the singular fascination which like the "pull" of a magnetic
+storm on telegraph wires, forced a woman's tender heart under the
+careless foot of a rough creature as indifferent to it as to a
+flower he trampled in his path? Nature might explain it in some
+unguarded moment of self-betrayal,--but Nature is jealous of her
+secrets,--they have to be coaxed out of her in the slow course of
+centuries. And with all the coaxing, the subtle work of her woven
+threads between the Like and the Unlike remains an unsolved mystery.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+From California to Sicily is a long way. It used to be considered
+far longer than it is now but in these magical days of aerial and
+motor travelling, distance counts but little,--indeed as almost
+nothing to the mind of any man or woman brought up in America and
+therefore accustomed to "hustle." Morgana Royal had "hustled" the
+whole business, staying in Paris a few days only,--in Rome but two
+nights; and now here she was, as if she had been spirited over sea
+and land by supernatural power, seated in a perfect paradise-garden
+of flowers and looking out on the blue Mediterranean with dreamy
+eyes in which the lightning flash was nearly if not wholly subdued.
+About quarter of a mile distant, and seen through the waving tops of
+pines and branching oleander, stood the house to which the garden
+belonged,--a "restored" palace of ancient days, built of rose-marble
+on the classic lines of Greek architecture. Its "restoration" was
+not quite finished; numbers of busy workmen were employed on the
+facade and surrounded loggia; and now and again she turned to watch
+them with a touch of invisible impatience in her movement. A slight
+smile sweetened her mouth as she presently perceived one figure
+approaching her,--a lithe, dark, handsome man, who, when he drew
+near enough, lifted his hat with a profoundly marked reverence, and,
+as she extended her hand, raised it to his lips.
+
+"A thousand welcomes, Madama!" he said, speaking in English with a
+scarcely noticeable foreign accent--"Last night I heard you had
+arrived, but could hardly believe the good fortune! You must have
+travelled quickly?"
+
+"Never quickly enough for my mind!" she answered--"The whole world
+moves too slowly for me!"
+
+"You must carry that complaint to the buon Dio!" he said, gaily--
+"Perhaps He will condescend to spin this rolling planet a little
+faster! But in my mind, time flies far too rapidly! I have worked--
+we all have worked--to get this place finished for you, yet much
+remains to be done--"
+
+She interrupted him.
+
+"The interior is quite perfect"--she said--"You have carried out my
+instructions more thoroughly than I imagined could be possible. It
+is now an abode for fairies to live in,--for poets to dream in--"
+
+"For women to love in!" he said, with a sudden warmth in his dark
+eyes.
+
+She looked at him, laughing.
+
+"You poor Marchese!"--she said--"Still you think of love! I really
+believe Italians keep all the sentiment of le moyen age in their
+hearts,--other peoples are gradually letting it go. You are like a
+child believing in childish things! You imagine I could be happy
+with a lover--or several lovers! To moon all day and embrace all
+night! Oh fie! What a waste of time! And in the end nothing is so
+fatiguing!" She broke off a spray of flowering laurel and hit him
+with it playfully on the hand. "Don't moon or spoon, caro amico!
+What is it all about? Do I leave you nothing on which to write
+poetry? I find you out in Sicily--a delightful poor nobleman with a
+family history going back to the Caesars!--handsome, clever, with
+beautiful ideas--and I choose and commission you to restore and
+rebuild for me a fairy palace out of a half-ruined ancient one,
+because you have taste and skill, and I know you can do everything
+when money is no object--and you have done, and are doing it all
+perfectly. Why then spoil it by falling in love with me? Fie, fie!"
+
+She laughed again and rising, gave him her hand.
+
+"Hold that!" she said--"And while you hold it, tell me of my other
+palace--the one with wings!"
+
+He clasped her small white fingers in his own sun-browned palm and
+walked beside her bare-headed.
+
+"Ah!" And he drew a deep breath--"That is a miracle! What we called
+your 'impossible' plan has been made possible! But who would have
+thought that a woman--"
+
+"Stop there!" she interrupted--"Do not repeat the old gander-cackle
+of barbaric man, who, while owing his every comfort as well as the
+continuance of his race, to woman, denied her every intellectual
+initiative! 'Who would have thought that a woman'--could do anything
+but bend low before a man with grovelling humility saying 'My lord,
+here am I, the waiting vessel of your lordship's pleasure!--possess
+me or I die!' We have changed that beggarly attitude!"
+
+Her eyes flashed,--her voice rang out--the little fingers he held,
+stiffened resolutely in his clasp. He looked at her with a touch of
+anxiety.
+
+"Pardon me!--I did not mean--" he stammered.
+
+In a second her mood changed, and she laughed.
+
+"No!--Of course you 'did not mean' anything, Marchese! You are
+naturally surprised that my 'idea' which was little more than an
+idea, has resolved itself into a scientific fact--but you would have
+been just as surprised if the conception had been that of a man
+instead of a woman. Only you would not have said so!"
+
+She laughed again,--a laugh of real enjoyment,--then went on--
+
+"Now tell me--what of my White Eagle?--what movement?--what speed?"
+
+"Amazing!" and the Marchese lowered his voice to almost a whisper--
+"I hardly dare speak of it!--it is like something supernatural! We
+have carried out your instructions to the letter--the thing is
+LIVING, in all respects save life. I made the test with the fluid
+you gave me--I charged the cells secretly--none of the mechanics saw
+what I did--and when she rose in air they were terrified--"
+
+"Brave souls!" said Morgana, and now she withdrew her hand from his
+grasp--"So you went up alone?"
+
+"I did. The steering was easy--she obeyed the helm,--it was as
+though she were a light yacht in a sea,--wind and tide in her
+favour. But her speed outran every air-ship I have ever known--as
+also the height to which she ascends."
+
+"We will take a trip in her to-morrow pour passer le temps"--said
+Morgana, "You shall choose a place for us to go. Nothing can stop
+us--nothing on earth or in the air!--and nothing can destroy us. I
+can guarantee that!"
+
+Giulio Rivardi gazed at her wonderingly,--his dark deep Southern
+eyes expressed admiration with a questioning doubt commingled.
+
+"You are very sure of yourself"--he said, gently. "Of course one
+cannot but marvel that your brain should have grasped in so short a
+time what men all over the world are still trying to discover--"
+
+"Men are slow animals!" she said, lightly. "They spend years in
+talking instead of in doing. Then again, when one of them really
+does something, all the rest are up in arms against him, and more
+years are wasted in trying to prove him right or wrong. I, as a mere
+woman, ask nobody for an opinion--I risk my own existence--spend my
+own money--and have nothing to do with governments. If I succeed I
+shall be sought after fast enough!--but I do not propose to either
+give or sell my discovery."
+
+"Surely you will not keep it to yourself?"
+
+"Why not? The world is too full of inventions as it is--and it is
+not the least grateful to its inventors or explorers. It would make
+the fool of a film a three-fold millionaire--but it would leave a
+great scientist or a noble thinker to starve. No, no! Let It swing
+on its own round--I shall not enlighten it!"
+
+She walked on, gathering a flower here and there, and he kept pace
+beside her.
+
+"The men who are working here"--he at last ventured to say--"are
+deeply interested. You can hardly expect them not to talk among each
+other and in the outside clubs and meeting-places of the wonderful
+mechanism on which they have been engaged. They have been at it now
+steadily for fifteen months."
+
+"Do I not know it?" And she turned her head to him, smiling, "Have I
+not paid their salaries regularly?--and yours? I do not care how
+they talk or where,--they have built the White Eagle, but they
+cannot make her fly!--not without ME! You were as brave as I thought
+you would be when you decided to fly alone, trusting to the means I
+gave you and which I alone can give!"
+
+She broke off and was silent for a moment, then laying her hand
+lightly on his arm, she added--
+
+"I thank you for your confidence in me! As I have said, you were
+brave!--you must have felt that you risked your life on a chance!--
+nevertheless, for once, you allowed yourself to believe in a woman!"
+
+"Not only for once but for always would I so believe!--in SUCH a
+woman--if she would permit me!" he answered in a low tone of intense
+passion. She smiled.
+
+"Ah! The old story! My dear Marchese, do not fret your intellectual
+perception uselessly! Think what we have in store for us!--such
+wonders as none have yet explored,--the mysteries of the high and
+the low--the light and the dark--and in those far-off spaces strewn
+with stars, we may even hear things that no mortal has yet heard--"
+
+"And what is the use of it all?" he suddenly demanded.
+
+She opened her deep blue eyes in amaze.
+
+"The use of it?. . .  You ask the use of it?--"
+
+"Yes--the use of it--without love!" he answered, his voice shaken
+with a sudden emotion--"Madonna, forgive me!--Listen with patience
+for one moment!--and think of the whole world mastered and
+possessed--but without anyone to love in it--without anyone to love
+YOU! Suppose you could command the elements--suppose every force
+that science could bestow were yours, and yet!--no love for you--no
+love in yourself for anyone--what would be the use of it all? Think,
+Madonna!"
+
+She raised her delicate eyebrows in a little surprise,--a faint
+smile was on her lips.
+
+"Dear Marchese, I DO think! I HAVE thought!" she answered--"And I
+have observed! Love--such as I imagined it when I was quite a young
+girl--does not exist. The passion called by that name is too petty
+and personal for me. Men have made love to me often--not as prettily
+perhaps as you do!--but in America at least love means dollars! Yes,
+truly! Any man would love my dollars, and take me with them, just
+thrown in! You, perhaps--"
+
+"I should love you if you were quite poor!" he interposed
+vehemently.
+
+She laughed.
+
+"Would you? Don't be angry if I doubt it! If I were 'quite poor' I
+could not have given you your big commission here--this house would
+not have been restored to its former beauty, and the White Eagle
+would be still a bird of the brain and not of the air! No, you very
+charming Marchese!--I should not have the same fascination for you
+without my dollars!--and I may tell you that the only man I ever
+felt disposed to like,--just a little,--is a kind of rude brute who
+despises my dollars and me!"
+
+His brows knitted involuntarily.
+
+"Then there IS some man you like?" he asked, stiffly.
+
+"I'm not sure!" she answered, lightly--"I said I felt 'disposed' to
+like him! But that's only in the spirit of contradiction, because he
+detests ME! And it's a sort of duel between us of sheer
+intellectuality, because he is trying to discover--in the usual
+slow, laborious, calculating methods of man--the very thing I HAVE
+discovered! He's on the verge--But not across it!"
+
+"And so--he may outstrip you?" And the Marchese's eyes glittered
+with sudden anger--"He may claim YOUR discovery as his own?"
+
+Morgana smiled. She was ascending the steps of the loggia, and she
+paused a moment in the full glare of the Sicilian sunshine, her
+wonderful gold hair shining in it with the hue of a daffodil.
+
+"I think not!" she said--"Though of course it depends on the use he
+makes of it. He--like all men--wishes to destroy; I, like all women,
+wish to create!"
+
+One or two of the workmen who were busy polishing the rose-marble
+pilasters of the loggia, here saluted her--she returned their
+salutations with an enchanting smile.
+
+"How delightful it all is!" she said--"I feel the real use of
+dollars at last! This beautiful 'palazzo,' in one of the loveliest
+places in the world--all the delicious flowers running down in
+garlands to the very shore of the sea-and liberty to enjoy life as
+one wishes to enjoy it, without hindrance or argument--without even
+the hindrance and argument of--love!" She laughed, and gave a
+mirthful upward glance at the Marchese's somewhat sullen
+countenance. "Come and have luncheon with me! You are the major-domo
+for the present--you have engaged the servants and you know the run
+of the house--you must show me everything and tell me everything! I
+have quite a nice chaperone--such a dear old English lady 'of title'
+as they say in the 'Morning Post'--so it's all quite right and
+proper--only she doesn't know a word of Italian and very little
+French. But that's quite British you know!"
+
+She passed, smiling, into the house, and he followed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+Perhaps there is no lovelier effect in all nature than a Sicilian
+sunset, when the sky is one rich blaze of colour and the sea below
+reflects every vivid hue as in a mirror,--when the very air breathes
+voluptuous indolence, and all the restless work of man seems an
+impertinence rather than a necessity. Morgana, for once in her quick
+restless life, felt the sudden charm of sweet peace and holy
+tranquility, as she sat, or rather reclined at ease in a long lounge
+chair after dinner in her rose-marble loggia facing the sea and
+watching the intense radiance of the heavens burning into the still
+waters beneath. She had passed the afternoon going over her whole
+house and gardens, and to the Marchese Giulio Rivardi had expressed
+herself completely satisfied,--while he, to whom unlimited means had
+been entrusted to carry out her wishes, wondered silently as to the
+real extent of her fortune, and why she should have spent so much in
+restoring a "palazzo" for herself alone. An occasional thought of
+"the only man" she had said she was "disposed" to like, teased his
+brain; but he was not petty-minded or jealous. He was keenly and
+sincerely interested in her intellectual capacity, and he knew, or
+thought he knew, the nature of woman. He watched her now as she
+reclined, a small slim figure in white, with the red glow of the sun
+playing on the gold uptwisted coil of her hair,--a few people of the
+neighbourhood had joined her at dinner, and these were seated about,
+sipping coffee and chatting in the usual frivolous way of after-
+dinner guests--one or two of them were English who had made their
+home in Sicily,--the others were travelling Americans.
+
+"I guess you're pretty satisfied with your location, Miss Royal"--
+said one of these, a pleasant-faced grey-haired man, who for four or
+five years past had wintered in Sicily with his wife, a frail little
+creature always on the verge of the next world--"It would be
+difficult to match this place anywhere! You only want one thing to
+complete it!"
+
+Morgana turned her lovely eyes indolently towards him over the top
+of the soft feather fan she was waving lightly to and fro.
+
+"One thing? What is that?" she queried.
+
+"A husband!"
+
+She smiled.
+
+"The usual appendage!" she said--"To my mind, quite unnecessary, and
+likely to spoil the most perfect environment! Though the Marchese
+Rivardi DID ask me to-day what was the use of my pretty 'palazzo'
+and gardens without love! A sort of ethical conundrum!"
+
+She glanced at Rivardi as she spoke--he was rolling a cigarette in
+his slim brown fingers and his face was impassively intent on his
+occupation.
+
+"Well, that's so!"--and her American friend looked at her kindly--
+"Even a fairy palace and a fairy garden might prove lonesome for
+one!"
+
+"And boresome for two!" laughed Morgana--"My dear Colonel Boyd! It
+is not every one who is fitted for matrimony--and there exist so
+many that ARE,--eminently fitted--we can surely allow a few
+exceptions! I am one of those exceptions. A husband would be
+excessively tiresome to me, and very much in my way!"
+
+Colonel Boyd laughed heartily.
+
+"You won't always think so!" he said--"Such a charming little woman
+must have a heart somewhere!"
+
+"Oh, yes, dear!" chimed in his fragile invalid wife, "I am sure you
+have a heart!"
+
+Morgana raised herself on her cushions to a sitting posture and
+looked round her with a curious little air or defiance.
+
+"A heart I MUST have!" she said--"otherwise I could not live. It is
+a necessary muscle. But what YOU call 'heart'--and what the dear
+elusive poets write about, is simply brain,--that is to say, an
+impulsive movement of the brain, suggesting the desirability of a
+particular person's companionship--and we elect to call that 'love'!
+On that mere impulse people marry."
+
+"It's a good impulse"--said Colonel Boyd, still smiling broadly--"It
+founds families and continues the race!"
+
+"Ah, yes! But I often wonder why the race should be continued at
+all!" said Morgana--"The time is ripe for a new creation!"
+
+A slow footfall sounded on the garden path, and the tall figure of a
+man clad in the everyday ecclesiastical garb of the Roman Church
+ascended the steps of the loggia.
+
+"Don Aloysius!" quickly exclaimed the Marchese, and every one rose
+to greet the newcomer, Morgana receiving him with a profound
+reverence. He laid his hand on her head with a kindly touch of
+benediction.
+
+"So the dreamer has come to her dream!" he said, in soft accents--
+"And it has not broken like an air-bubble!--it still floats and
+shines!" As he spoke he courteously saluted all present by a bend of
+his head,--and stood for a moment gazing at the view of the sea and
+the dying sunset. He was a very striking figure of a man--tall, and
+commanding in air and attitude, with a fine face which might be
+called almost beautiful. The features were such as one sees in
+classic marbles--the full clear eyes were set somewhat widely apart
+under shelving brows that denoted a brain with intelligence to use
+it, and the smile that lightened his expression as he looked from,
+the sea to his fair hostess was of a benignant sweetness.
+
+"Yes"--he continued--"you have realised your vision of loveliness,
+have you not? Our friend Giulio Rivardi has carried out all your
+plans?"
+
+"Everything is perfect!" said Morgana--"Or will be when it is
+finished. The workmen still have things to do."
+
+"All workmen always have things to do!" said Don Aloysius,
+tranquilly--"And nothing is ever finished! And you, dear child!--you
+are happy?"
+
+She flushed and paled under his deep, steady gaze.
+
+"I--I think so!" she murmured--"I ought to be!"
+
+The priest smiled and after a pause took the chair which the
+Marchese Rivardi offered him. The other guests in the loggia looked
+at him with interest, fascinated by his grave charm of manner.
+Morgana resumed her seat.
+
+"I ought to be happy"--she said--"And of course I am--or I shall
+be!"
+
+"'Man never is but always to be blest'!" quoted Colonel Boyd--"And
+woman the same! I have been telling this lady, reverend father, that
+maybe she will find her 'palazzo' a bit lonesome without some one to
+share its pleasures."
+
+Don Aloysius looked round with a questioning glance.
+
+"What does she herself think about it?" he asked, mildly.
+
+"I have not thought at all"--said Morgana, quickly, "I can always
+fill it with friends. No end of people are glad to winter in
+Sicily."
+
+"But will such 'friends' care for YOU or YOUR happiness?" suggested
+the Marchese, pointedly.
+
+Morgana laughed.
+
+"Oh, no, I do not expect that! Nowadays no one really cares for
+anybody else's happiness but their own. Besides, I shall be much too
+busy to want company. I'm bent on all sorts of discoveries, you
+know!--I want to dive 'deeper than ever plummet sounded'!"
+
+"You will only find deeper depths!" said Don Aloysius, slowly--"And
+in the very deepest depth of all is God!"
+
+There was a sudden hush as he spoke. He went on in gentle accents.
+
+"How wonderful it is that He should be THERE,--and yet HERE! No one
+need 'dive deep' to find Him. He is close to us as our very
+breathing! Ah!" and he sighed--"I am sorry for all the busy
+'discoverers'--they will never arrive at the end,--and meanwhile
+they miss the clue--the little secret by the way!"
+
+Another pause ensued. Then Morgana spoke, in a very quiet and
+submissive tone.
+
+"Dear Don Aloysius, you are a 'religious' as they say--and naturally
+you mistrust all seekers of science--science which is upsetting to
+your doctrine."
+
+Aloysius raised a deprecating hand.
+
+"My child, there is no science that can upset the Source of all
+science! The greatest mathematician that lives did not institute
+mathematics--he only copies the existing Divine law."
+
+"That is perfectly true"--said the Marchese Rivardi--"But la Signora
+Royal means that the dogma of the Church is in opposition to
+scientific discovery--"
+
+"I have not found it so"--said Don Aloysius, tranquilly--"We have
+believed in what you call your 'wireless telephony'--for centuries;-
+-when the Sanctus bell rings at Mass, we think and hope a message
+from Our Lord comes to every worshipper whose soul is 'in tune' with
+the heavenly current; that is one of your 'scientific discoveries'--
+and there are hundreds of others which the Church has incorporated
+through a mystic fore-knowledge and prophetic instinct. No--I find
+nothing upsetting in science,--the only students who are truly upset
+both physically and morally, are they who seek to discover God while
+denying His existence."
+
+There followed a silence. The group in the loggia seemed for the
+moment mesmerised by the priest's suave calm voice, steady eyes and
+noble expression, A bell rang slowly and sweetly--a call to prayer
+in some not far distant monastery, and the first glimmer of the
+stars began to sparkle faintly in the darkening heavens. A little
+sigh from Morgana stirred the stillness.
+
+"If one could always live in this sort of mood!" she suddenly
+exclaimed--"This lovely peace in the glow of the sunset and the
+perfume of the flowers!--and you, Don Aloysius, talking beautiful
+things!--why then, one would be perpetually happy and good! But such
+living would not be life!--one must go with the time--"
+
+Don Aloysius smiled indulgently.
+
+"Must one? Is it so vitally necessary? If I might take the liberty
+to go on speaking I would tell you a story--a mere tradition--but it
+might weary you--"
+
+A general chorus of protest from all present assured him of their
+eagerness to hear.
+
+"As if YOU could weary anybody!" Morgana said. "You never do--only
+you have an effect upon ME which is not very flattering to my self-
+love!--you make me feel so small!"
+
+You ARE small, physically"--said Don Aloysius--Do you mind that?
+Small things are always sweetest!"
+
+She flushed, and turned her head away as she caught the Marchese
+Rivardi's eyes fixed upon her.
+
+"You should not make pretty compliments to a woman, reverend
+father!" she said, lightly--"It is not your vocation!"
+
+His grave face brightened and he laughed with real heartiness.
+
+"Dear lady, what do you know of my vocation?" he asked--"Will you
+teach it to me? No!--I am sure you will not try! Listen now!--as you
+all give me permission--let me tell you of certain people who once
+'went with the time'--and decided to stop en route, and are still at
+the stopping-place. Perhaps some of you who travel far and often,
+have heard of the Brazen City?"
+
+Each one looked at the other enquiringly, but with no responsive
+result.
+
+"Those who visit the East know of it"--went on Aloysius--"And some
+say they have seen a glimpse of its shining towers and cupolas in
+the far distance. However this may be, tradition declares that it
+exists, and that it was founded by St. John, the 'beloved disciple.'
+You will recall that when Our Lord was asked when and how John
+should die He answered--'If I will that he tarry till I come, what
+is that to thee?' So--as we read--the rumour went forth that John
+was the one disciple for whom there should be no death. And now--to
+go on with the legend--it is believed by many, that deep in the as
+yet unexplored depths of the deserts of Egypt--miles and miles over
+rolling sand-waves which once formed the bed of a vast ocean, there
+stands a great city whose roofs and towers are seemingly of brass,--
+a city barricaded and built in by walls of brass and guarded by
+gates of brass. Here dwells a race apart--a race of beautiful human
+creatures who have discovered the secret of perpetual youth and
+immortality on this earth. They have seen the centuries come and
+go,--the flight of time touches them not,--they only await the day
+when the whole world will be free to them--that 'world to come'
+which is not made for the 'many,' but the 'few.' All the discoveries
+of our modern science are known to them--our inventions are their
+common everyday appliances--and on the wings of air and rays of
+light they hear and know all that goes on in every country. Our wars
+and politics are no more to them than the wars and politics of ants
+in ant-hills,--they have passed beyond all trivialities such as
+these. They have discovered the secret of life's true enjoyment--
+and--they enjoy!"
+
+"That's a fine story if true!" said Colonel Boyd--
+
+"But all the same, it must be dull work living shut up in a city
+with nothing to do,--doomed to be young and to last for ever!"
+
+Morgana had listened intently,--her eyes were brilliant.
+
+"Yes--I think it would be dull after a couple of hundred years or
+so"--she said--"One would have tested all life's possibilities and
+pleasures by then."
+
+"I am not so sure of that!" put in the Marchese Rivardi--"With youth
+nothing could become tiresome--youth knows no ennui."
+
+Some of the other listeners to the conversation laughed.
+
+"I cannot quite agree to that"--said a lady who had not yet spoken--
+"Nowadays the very children are 'bored' and ever looking for
+something new--it is just as if the world were 'played out'--and
+another form of planet expected."
+
+"That is where we retain the vitality of our faith--" said Don
+Aloysius--"We expect--we hope! We believe in an immortal progress
+towards an ever Higher Good."
+
+"But I think even a soul may grow tired!" said Morgana, suddenly--
+"so tired that even the Highest Good may seem hardly worth
+possessing!"
+
+There was a moment's silence.
+
+"Povera figlia!" murmured Aloysius, hardly above his breath,--but
+she caught the whisper, and smiled.
+
+"I am too analytical and pessimistic," she said--"Let us all go for
+a ramble among the flowers and down to the sea! Nature is the best
+talker, for the very reason that she has no speech!"
+
+The party broke up in twos and threes and left the loggia for the
+garden. Rivardi remained a moment behind, obeying a slight sign from
+Aloysius.
+
+"She is not happy!" said the priest--"With all her wealth, and all
+her gifts of intelligence she is not happy, nor is she satisfied. Do
+you not find it so?"
+
+"No woman is happy or satisfied till love has kissed her on the
+mouth and eyes!" answered Rivardi, with a touch of passion in his
+voice,--"But who will convince her of that? She is satisfied with
+her beautiful surroundings,--all the work I have designed for her
+has pleased her,--she has found no fault--"
+
+"And she has paid you loyally!" interpolated Aloysius--"Do not
+forget that! She has made your fortune. And no doubt she expects you
+to stop at that and go no further in an attempt to possess herself
+as well as her millions!"
+
+The Marchese flushed hotly under the quiet gaze of the priest's
+steady dark eyes.
+
+"It is a great temptation," went on Aloysius, gently--"But you must
+resist it, my son! I know what it would mean to you--the restoration
+of your grand old home--that home which received a Roman Emperor in
+the long ago days of history and which presents now to your eyes so
+desolate a picture with its crumbling walls and decaying gardens
+beautiful in their wild desolation!--yes, I know all this!--I know
+how you would like to rehabilitate the ancient family and make the
+venerable genealogical tree sprout forth into fresh leaves and
+branches by marriage with this strange little creature whose vast
+wealth sets her apart in such loneliness,--but I doubt the wisdom or
+the honour of such a course--I also doubt whether she would make a
+fitting wife for you or for any man!"
+
+The Marchese raised his eyebrows expressively with the slightest
+shrug of his shoulders.
+
+"You may doubt that of every modern woman!" he said--"Few are really
+'fitting' for marriage nowadays. They want something different--
+something new!--God alone knows what they want!"
+
+Don Aloysius sighed.
+
+"Aye! God alone knows! And God alone will decide what to give them!"
+
+"It must be something more 'sensational' than husband and children!"
+said Rivardi a trifle bitterly--"Only a primitive woman will care
+for these!"
+
+The priest laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.
+
+"Come, come! Do not be cynical, my son! I think with you that if
+anything can find an entrance to a woman's soul it is love--but the
+woman must be capable of loving. That is the difficulty with the
+little millionairess Royal. She is not capable!"
+
+He uttered the last words slowly and with emphasis.
+
+Rivardi gave him a quick searching glance.
+
+"You seem to know that as a certainty"--he said, "How and why do you
+know it?"
+
+Aloysius raised his eyes and looked straight ahead of him with a
+curious, far-off, yet searching intensity.
+
+"I cannot tell you how or why"--he answered--"You would not believe
+me if I told you that sometimes in this wonderful world of ours,
+beings are born who are neither man nor woman, and who partake of a
+nature that is not so much human as elemental and ethereal--or might
+one not almost say, atmospheric? That is, though generated of flesh
+and blood, they are not altogether flesh and blood, but possess
+other untested and unproved essences mingled in their composition,
+of which as yet we can form no idea. We grope in utter ignorance of
+the greatest of mysteries--Life!--and with all our modern
+advancement, we are utterly unable to measure or to account for
+life's many and various manifestations. In the very early days of
+imaginative prophecy, the 'elemental' nature of certain beings was
+accepted by men accounted wise in their own time,--in the long ago
+discredited assertions of the Count de Gabalis and others of his
+mystic cult,--and I am not entirely sure that there does not exist
+some ground for their beliefs. Life is many-sided;--humanity can
+only be one facet of the diamond."
+
+Giulio Rivardi had listened with surprised attention.
+
+"You seem to imply then"--he said--"that this rich woman, Morgana
+Royal, is hardly a woman at all?--a kind of sexless creature
+incapable of love?"
+
+"Incapable of the usual kind of so-called 'love'--yes!" answered
+Aloysius--"But of love in other forms I can say nothing, for I know
+nothing!--she may be capable of a passion deep and mysterious as
+life itself. But come!--we might talk all night and arrive no closer
+to the solving of this little feminine problem! You are fortunate in
+your vocation of artist and designer, to have been chosen by her to
+carry out her conceptions of structural and picturesque beauty--let
+the romance stay there!--and do not try to become the husband of a
+Sphinx!"
+
+He smiled, resting his hand on the Marchese's shoulder with easy
+familiarity.
+
+"See where she stands!" he continued,--and they both looked towards
+the beautiful flower-bordered terrace at the verge of the gardens
+overhanging the sea where for the moment Morgana stood alone, a
+small white figure bathed in the deep rose afterglow of the sunken
+sun--"Like a pearl dropped in a cup of red wine!--ready to dissolve
+and disappear!"
+
+His voice had a strange thrill in it, and Giulio looked at him
+curiously.
+
+"You admire her very much, my father!" he said, with a touch of
+delicate irony in his tone.
+
+"I do, my son!" responded Aloysius, composedly, "But only as a poor
+priest may--at a distance!"
+
+The Marchese glanced at him again quickly,--almost suspiciously--and
+seemed about to say something further, but checked himself,--and the
+two walked on to join their hostess, side by side together.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+Early dawn peered through the dark sky like the silvery light of a
+pale lamp carried by an advancing watchman,--and faintly illumined
+the outline of a long, high, vastly extending wooden building which,
+at about a mile distant from Morgana's "palazzo" ran parallel with
+the sea-shore. The star-sparkle of electric lamps within showed it
+to be occupied--and the murmur of men's voices and tinkle of working
+tools suggested that the occupants were busy. The scarcely visible
+sea made pleasant little kissing murmurs on the lip-edges of the
+sand, and Nature, drowsing in misty space, seemed no more than the
+formless void of the traditional beginning of things.
+
+Outside the building which, by its shape, though but dimly defined
+among shadows, was easily recognisable as a huge aerodrome, the tall
+figure of Giulio Rivardi paced slowly up and down like a sentinel on
+guard. He, whose Marquisate was inherited from many noble Sicilian
+houses renowned in Caesar's day, apparently found as much
+satisfaction in this occupation as any warrior of a Roman Legion
+might have experienced in guarding the tent of his Emperor,--and
+every now and then he lifted his eyes to the sky with a sense of
+impatience at the slowness of the sun's rising. In his mind he
+reviewed the whole chapter of events which during the past three
+years had made him the paid vassal of a rich woman's fancy--his
+entire time taken up, and all the resources of his inventive and
+artistic nature (which were exceptionally great) drawn upon for the
+purpose of carrying out designs which at first seemed freakish and
+impossible, but which later astonished him by the extraordinary
+scientific acumen they displayed, as well as by their adaptability
+to the forces of nature. Then, the money!--the immense sums which
+this strange creature, Morgana Royal, had entrusted to him!--and
+with it all, the keen, business aptitude she had displayed, knowing
+to a centime how much she had spent, though there seemed no limit to
+how much she yet intended to spend! He looked back to the time he
+had first seen her, when on visiting Sicily apparently as an
+American tourist only, she had taken a fancy to a ruined "palazzo"
+once an emperor's delight, but crumbling slowly away among its
+glorious gardens, and had purchased the whole thing then and there.
+Her guide to the ruins at that period had been Don Aloysius, a
+learned priest, famous for his archaeological knowledge--and it was
+through Don Aloysius that he, the Marchese Rivardi, had obtained the
+commission to restore to something of its pristine grace and beauty
+the palace of ancient days. And now everything was done, or nearly
+done; but much more than the "palazzo" had been undertaken and
+completed, for the lady of many millions had commanded an air-ship
+to be built for her own personal use and private pleasure with an
+aerodrome for its safe keeping and anchorage. This airship was the
+crux of the whole business, for the men employed to build it were
+confident that it would never fly, and laughed with one another as
+they worked to carry out a woman's idea and a woman's design. How
+could it fly without an engine?--they very sensibly demanded,--for
+engine there was none! However, they were paid punctually and most
+royally for their labours; and when, despite their ominous
+predictions, the ship was released on her trial trip, manipulated by
+Giulio Rivardi, who ascended in her alone, sailing the ship with an
+ease and celerity hitherto unprecedented, they were more scared than
+enthusiastic. Surely some devil was in it!--for how could the thing
+fly without any apparent force to propel it? How was it that its
+enormous wings spread out on either side as by self-volition and
+moved rhythmically like the wings of a bird in full flight? Every
+man who had worked at the design was more or less mystified. They
+had, according to plan and instructions received, "plumed" the
+airship for electricity in a new and curious manner, but there was
+no battery to generate a current. Two small boxes or chambers, made
+of some mysterious metal which would not "fuse" under the strongest
+heat, were fixed, one at either end of the ship;--these had been
+manufactured secretly in another country and sent to Sicily by
+Morgana herself,--but so far, they contained nothing. They seemed
+unimportant--they were hardly as large as an ordinary petrol-can
+holding a gallon. When Rivardi had made a trial ascent he had
+inserted in each of these boxes a cylindrical tube made to fit an
+interior socket as a candle fits into a candle-stick,--all the
+workmen watched him, waiting for a revelation, but he made none. He
+was only particular and precise as to the firm closing down of the
+boxes when the tubes were in. And then in a few minutes the whole
+machine began to palpitate noiselessly like a living thing with a
+beating heart,--and to the amazement and almost fear of all who
+witnessed what seemed to be a miracle, the ship sprang up like a
+bird springing from the ground, and soared free and away into space,
+its vast white wings cleaving the air with a steady rise and fall of
+rhythmic power. Once aloft she sailed in level flight, apparently at
+perfect ease--and after several rapid "runs," and circlings,
+descended slowly and gracefully, landing her pilot without shock or
+jar. He was at once surrounded and was asked a thousand questions
+which it was evident he could not answer.
+
+"How can I tell!" he replied, to all interrogations. "The secret is
+the secret of a woman!"
+
+A woman! Man's pretty toy!--man's patient slave! How should a woman
+master any secret! Engineers and mechanics laughed scornfully and
+shrugged their shoulders--yet--yet--the great airship stared them in
+the face as a thing created,--a thing of such power and possibility
+as seemed wholly incredible. And now the creator,--the woman--had
+arrived,--the woman whose rough designs on paper had been carefully
+followed and elaborated into actual shape;--and there was a tense
+state of expectation among all the workers awaiting her presence.
+Meanwhile the lantern-gleam in the sky broadened and the web of mist
+which veiled the sea began to lift and Giulio Rivardi, pacing to and
+fro, halted every now and then to look in the direction of a path
+winding downward from the mainland to the shore, in watchful
+expectation of seeing an elfin figure, more spiritlike than mortal,
+floating towards him through the dividing vapours of the morning.
+The words of Don Aloysius haunted him strangely, though his common
+sense sharply rejected the fantastic notions to which they had given
+rise. She,--Morgana Royal,--was "not capable" of love, the priest
+had implied,--and yet, at times--only at times,--she seemed
+eminently lovable. At times,--again, only at times--he was conscious
+of a sweeping passion of admiration for her that well-nigh robbed
+him of his self-control. But a strong sense of honour held him in
+check--he never forgot that he was her paid employe, and that her
+wealth was so enormous that any man presuming too personally upon
+her indulgence could hardly be exonerated from ulterior sordid aims.
+And while he mused, somewhat vexedly, on all the circumstances of
+his position, the light widened in the heavens, showing the very
+faintest flush of rose in the east as an indication of the coming
+sun. He lifted his eyes. . . .
+
+"At last!" he exclaimed, with relief, as he saw a small gliding
+shadow among shadows approaching him,--he figure of Morgana so
+wrapped in a grey cloak and hood as to almost seem part of the
+slowly dispersing mists of the morning. She pushed back the hood as
+she came near, showing a small eager white face in which the eyes
+glittered with an almost unearthly brightness.
+
+"I have slept till now,"--she said--"Imagine!--all night through
+without waking! So lazy of me!--but the long rest has done me good
+and I'm ready for anything! Are you? You look very solemn and
+morose!--like a warrior in bronze! Anything gone wrong?"
+
+"Not that I am aware of"--he replied--"The men are finishing some
+small detail of ornament. I have only looked in to tell them you are
+coming."
+
+"And are they pleased?"
+
+"Madama, they are not of a class to be either pleased or
+displeased"--he said--"They are instructed to perform certain work,
+and they perform it. In all that they have been doing for you,
+according to your orders, I truly think they are more curious than
+interested."
+
+A streak of rose and silver flared through the sky flushing the
+pallor of Morgana's face as she lifted it towards him, smiling.
+
+"Quite natural!" she said--"No man is ever 'interested' in woman's
+work, but he is always 'curious.' Woman is a many-cornered maze--and
+man is always peeping round one corner or another in the hope to
+discover her--but he never does!"
+
+Rivardi gave an almost imperceptible shrug.
+
+"Never?" he queried.
+
+"Never!" she affirmed, emphatically--"Don't be sarcastic, amico!--
+even in this dim morning light I can see the scornful curve of your
+upper lip!--you are really very good-looking, you know!--and you
+imply the same old Garden of Eden story of man giving away woman as
+a wholly incomprehensible bad job! Adam flung her back as a reproach
+to her Creator--'the woman thou gavest me;'--oh, that woman and that
+apple! But he had to confess 'I did eat.' He always eats,--he eats
+everything woman can give him--he will even eat HER if he gets the
+chance!" She laughed and pointed to the brightening sky. "See? ''Tis
+almost morning!' as Shakespeare's Juliet remarked--but I would not
+'have thee gone'--not unless I go also. Whither shall we fly?"
+
+He looked at her, moved as he often was by a thrill of admiration
+and wonder.
+
+"It is for you to decide"--he answered--"You know best the
+possibilities-and the risks---"
+
+"I know the possibilities perfectly,"--she said--"But I know nothing
+of risks--there are none. This is our safety"--and she drew out from
+the folds of her cloak, two small packets of cylindrical form--"This
+emanation of Nature's greatest force will keep us going for a year
+if needful! Oh man!--I do not mean YOU particularly, but man
+generally!--why could you not light on this little, little clue!--
+why was it left to a woman! Come!--let us see the White Eagle in its
+nest,--it shall spread its wings and soar to-day--we will give it
+full liberty!"
+
+The dawn was spreading in threads of gold and silver and blue all
+over the heavens, and the sea flushed softly under the deepening
+light, as she went towards the aerodrome, he walking slowly by her
+side.
+
+"Are you so sure?" he said--"Will you not risk your life in this
+attempt?"
+
+She stopped abruptly.
+
+"My life? What is it? The life of a midge in the sun! It is no good
+to me unless I do something with it! I would live for ever if I
+could!--here, on this dear little ball of Earth--I do not want a
+better heaven. The heaven which the clergy promise us is so
+remarkably unattractive! But I run no risk of losing my life or
+yours in our aerial adventures; we carry the very essence of
+vitality with us. Come!--I want to see my flying palace! When I was
+a small child I used to feed my fancy on the 'Arabian Nights,' and
+most dearly did I love the story of Aladdin and his palace that was
+transported through the air. I used to say 'I will have a flying
+palace myself!' And now I have realised my dream."
+
+"That remains to be proved"--said Rivardi--"With all our work we may
+not have entirely carried out your plan."
+
+"If not, it will HAVE to be carried out"--returned Morgana,
+tranquilly--"There is no reason, moral or scientific, why it should
+NOT be carried out--we have all the forces of Nature on our side."
+
+He was silent, and accompanied her as she walked to the aerodrome
+and entered it. There were half a dozen or more men within, all
+working--but they ceased every movement as they saw her,--while she,
+on her part, scarcely seemed to note their presence. Her eyes were
+uplifted and fixed on a vast, smooth oblong object, like the body of
+a great bird with shut wings, which swung from the roof of the
+aerodrome and swayed lightly to and fro as though impelled by some
+mysterious breathing force. Morgana's swift glance travelled from
+its one end to the other with a flash of appreciation, while at the
+same time she received the salutations of all the men who advanced
+to greet her.
+
+"You have done well, my friends!"--she said, speaking in fluent
+French--"This beautiful creature you have made seems a perfect
+thing,--from the OUTSIDE. What of the interior?"
+
+A small, dark, intelligent looking man, in evident command of the
+rest, smiled and shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Ah, Signora! It is as you commanded!" he answered--"It is
+beautiful--like a chrysalis for a butterfly. But a butterfly has the
+advantage--it comes to LIFE, to use its wings!"
+
+"Quite true, Monsieur Gaspard!" and Morgana gave him a smile as
+sunny as his own. "But what is life? Is it not a composition of many
+elements? And should we not learn to combine such elements to
+vitalise our 'White Eagle'? It is possible!"
+
+"With God all things are possible!" quoted the Marchese Rivardi--
+"But with man--"
+
+"We are taught that God made man 'in His image. In the image of God
+created He him.' If this is true, all things should be possible to
+man"--said Morgana, quietly--"To man,--and to that second thought of
+the Creator--Woman! And we mustn't forget that second thoughts are
+best!" She laughed, while the man called Gaspard stared at her and
+laughed also for company. "Now let me see how I shall be housed in
+air!" and with very little assistance she climbed into the great
+bird-shaped vessel through an entrance so deftly contrived that it
+was scarcely visible,--an entrance which closed almost hermetically
+when the ship was ready to start, air being obtained through other
+channels.
+
+Once inside it was easy to believe in Fairyland. Not a scrap of any
+sort of mechanism could be seen. There were two exquisitely
+furnished saloons--one a kind of boudoir or drawing-room where
+everything that money could buy or luxury suggest as needful or
+ornamental was collected and arranged with thoughtful selection and
+perfect taste. A short passage from these apartments led at one end
+to some small, daintily fitted sleeping-rooms beyond,--at the other
+was the steering cabin and accommodation for the pilot and observer.
+The whole interior was lined with what seemed to be a thick rose-
+coloured silk of a singularly smooth and shining quality, but at a
+sign from Morgana, Rivardi and Gaspard touched some hidden spring
+which caused this interior covering to roll up completely, thus
+disclosing a strange and mysterious "installation" beneath. Every
+inch of wall-space was fitted with small circular plates of some
+thin, shining substance, set close together so that their edges
+touched, and in the center of each plate or disc was a tiny white
+knob resembling the button of an ordinary electric bell. There
+seemed to be at least two or three thousand of these discs--seen all
+together in a close mass they somewhat resembled the "suckers" on
+the tentacles of a giant octopus. Morgana, seating herself in an
+easy chair of the richly carpeted "drawing-room" of her "air
+palace," studied every line, turn and configuration of this
+extraordinary arrangement with a keenly observant and criticising
+eye. The Marchese Rivardi and Gaspard watched her expression
+anxiously.
+
+"You are satisfied?" asked Rivardi, at last--"It is as you planned?"
+
+She turned towards Gaspard with a smile.
+
+"What do YOU think about it?" she queried--"You are an expert in
+modern scientific work--you understand many of the secrets of
+natural force--what do YOU think?"
+
+"Madama, I think as I have always thought!--a body without soul!"
+
+"What IS soul?" she said--"Is it not breath?--the breath of life? Is
+it not said that God 'made man of the dust of the ground and
+breathed into his nostrils the breath of life and man became a
+living soul!' And what is the breath of life? Is it not composed of
+such elements as are in the universe and which we may all discover
+if we will, and use to our advantage? You cannot deny this! Come,
+Marchese!--and you, Monsieur Gaspard! Call to them below to set this
+Eagle free; we will fly into the sunrise for an hour or two,--no
+farther, as we are not provisioned."
+
+"Madama!" stammered Gaspard--"I am not prepared--"
+
+"You are frightened, my friend!" and Morgana smiled, laying her
+little white hand soothingly on his arm--"But if I tell you there is
+no cause for fear, will you not believe me? Do you not think I love
+my own life? Oh yes, I love it so much that I seek to prolong it,
+not risk it by sudden loss. Nor would I risk YOUR life--or HIS!" and
+she looked towards Rivardi--"HE is not frightened--he will come with
+me wherever I go! Now, Monsieur Gaspard, see! Here is our breath of
+life!" And she held up before his eyes the two cylindrically shaped
+packages she had previously shown to Rivardi--"The Marchese has
+already had some experience of it"--here she unfastened the
+wrappings of the packages, and took out two tubes made of some
+metallic substance which shone like purest polished gold--"I will
+fix these in myself--will you open the lower end chamber first,
+please?"
+
+Silently the two men obeyed her gesture and opened the small
+compartment fixed at what might be called the hull end of the air-
+ship. The interior was seen to be lined with the same round discs
+which covered the walls of the vessel, every disc closely touching
+its neighbour. With extreme caution and delicacy Morgana set one of
+the tubes she held upright in the socket made to receive it, and as
+she did this, fine sharp, needle like flashes of light broke from it
+in a complete circle, filling the whole receptacle with vibrating
+rays which instantly ran round each disc, and glittered in and out
+among them like a stream of quicksilver. As soon as this
+manifestation occurred, Morgana beckoned to her two assistants to
+shut the compartment. They did so with scarcely an effort, yet it
+closed down with a silent force and tenacity that suggested some
+enormous outward pressure, yet pressure there seemed none. And now a
+sudden throbbing movement pulsated through the vessel--its huge
+folded wings stirred.
+
+"Quick! Tell them below to lose no time! Open the shed and let her
+rise!--when the contact is once established there will not be half a
+second to spare!"
+
+Hurriedly the man Gaspard, though obviously terrified, shouted the
+necessary orders, while Morgana went to the other end of the ship
+where Rivardi opened for her the second compartment into which she
+fixed the second tube. Once again the circular flashes broke out,
+but this time directly the compartment was closed down, the shining
+stream of light was seen to run rapidly and completely round the
+interior of the vessel, touching every disc that lined the walls as
+with the sparkling point of a jewel. The wings of the ship
+palpitated as with life and began to spread open. . . .
+
+"Let her go!" cried Morgana--"Away to your place, pilot!" and she
+waved a commanding hand as Rivardi sprang to the steering gear--
+"Hold her fast! . . .  Keep her steady! Straight towards the sun-
+rise!"
+
+As she spoke, a wonderful thing happened--every disc that lined the
+interior of the ship started throbbing like a pulse,--every little
+white knob in the centre of each disc vibrated with an extraordinary
+rapidity of motion which dazzled the eyes like the glittering of
+swiftly falling snow, and Gaspard, obeying Morgana's sign, drew down
+at once all the rose silk covering which completely hid the strange
+mechanism from view. There was absolutely no noise in this intense
+vibration,--and there was no start or jar, or any kind of
+difficulty, when the air-ship, released from bondage, suddenly rose,
+and like an actual living bird sprang through the vast opening
+gateway of the aerodrome and as it sprang, spread out its wings as
+though by its own volition. In one moment, it soared straight
+upright, far far into space, and the men who were left behind stood
+staring amazedly after it, themselves looking no more than tiny
+black pin-heads down below,--then, with a slow diving grace it
+righted itself as it were, and as if it had of its own will selected
+the particular current of air on which to sail. It travelled with a
+steady swiftness in absolute silence,--its great wings moved up and
+down with a noiseless power and rhythm for which there seemed no
+possible explanation,--and Morgana turned her face, now delicately
+flushed with triumph, on the pale and almost breathless Gaspard,
+smiling as she looked at him, her eyes questioning his. He seemed
+stricken dumb with astonishment,--his lips moved, but no word issued
+from them.
+
+"You believe me now, do you not?" she said--"We have nothing further
+to do but to steer. The force we use re-creates itself as it works--
+it cannot become exhausted. To slow down and descend to earth one
+need only open the compartments at either end--then the vibration
+grows less and less, and like a living creature the 'White Eagle'
+sinks gently to rest. You see there is no cause for fear!"
+
+While she yet spoke, the light of the newly risen sun bathed her in
+its golden glory, the long dazzling beams filtering through
+mysterious apertures inserted cunningly in the roof of the vessel
+and mingling with the roseate hues of the silken sheathing that
+covered its walls. So fired with light she looked ethereal--a very
+spirit of air or of flame; and Rivardi, just able to see her from
+his steering place, began to think there was some truth an the
+strange words of Don Aloysius--"Sometimes in this wonderful world of
+ours beings are born who are neither man nor woman and who partake
+of a nature that is not so much human as elemental--or, might not
+one almost say atmospheric?"
+
+At the moment Morgana seemed truly "atmospheric"--a small creature
+so fine and fair as to almost suggest an evanescent form about to
+melt away in mist. Some sudden thrill of superstitious fear moved
+Gaspard to make the sign of the cross and mutter an "Ave,"--Morgana
+heard him and smiled kindly.
+
+"I am not an evil spirit, my friend!" she said--"You need not
+exorcise me! I am nothing but a student with a little more
+imagination than is common, and in the moving force which carries
+our ship along I am only using a substance which, as our scientists
+explain, 'has an exceptional capacity for receiving the waves of
+energy emanating from the sun and giving them off.' On the 'giving
+off' of those waves we move--it is all natural and easy, and, like
+every power existent in the universe, is meant for our comprehension
+and use. You cannot say you feel any sense of danger?--we are
+sailing with greater steadiness than any ship at sea--there is
+scarcely any consciousness of movement--and without looking out and
+down, we should not realise we are so far from earth. Indeed we are
+going too far now--we do not realize our speed."
+
+"Too far!" said Gaspard, nervously--"Madama, if we go too far we may
+also go too high--we may not be able to breathe!. . . "
+
+She laughed.
+
+"That is a very remote possibility!" she said--"The waves of energy
+which bear us along are concerned in our own life-supply,--they make
+our air to breathe--our heat to warm. All the same it is time we
+returned--we are not provisioned."
+
+She called to Rivardi, and he, with the slightest turn of the wheel,
+altered the direction in which the air-ship moved, so that it
+travelled back again on the route by which it had commenced its
+flight. Soon, very soon, the dainty plot of earth, looking no more
+than a gay flower-bed, where Morgana's palazzo was situated,
+appeared below--and then, acting on instructions, Gaspard opened the
+compartments at either end of the vessel. The vibrating rays within
+dwindled by slow degrees--their light became less and less intense--
+their vibration less powerful,--till very gradually with a perfectly
+beautiful motion expressing absolute grace and lightness the vessel
+descended towards the aerodrome it had lately left, and all the men
+who were waiting for its return gave a simultaneous shout of
+astonishment and admiration, as it sank slowly towards them, folding
+its wings as it came with the quiet ease of a nesting-bird flying
+home. So admirably was the distance measured between itself and the
+great shed of its local habitation, that it glided into place as
+though it had eyes to see its exact whereabouts, and came to a
+standstill within a few seconds of its arrival. Morgana descended,
+and her two companions followed. The other men stood silent, visibly
+inquisitive yet afraid to express their curiosity. Morgana's eyes
+flashed over them all with a bright, half-laughing tolerance.
+
+"I thank you, my friends!" she said--"You have done well the work I
+entrusted you to do under the guidance of the Marchese Rivardi, and
+you can now judge for yourselves the result It mystifies you I can
+see! You think it is a kind of 'black magic'? Not so!--unless all
+our modern science is 'black magic' as well, born of the influence
+of those evil spirits who, as we are told in tradition, descended in
+rebellion from heaven and lived with the daughters of men! From
+these strange lovers sprang a race of giants,--symbolical I think of
+the birth of the sciences, which mingle in their composition the
+active elements of good and evil. You have built this airship of
+mine on lines which have never before been attempted;--you have
+given it wings which are plumed like the wings of a bird, not with
+quills, but with channels many and minute, to carry the runlets of
+the 'emanation' from the substance held in the containers at either
+end of the vessel,--its easy flight therefore should not surprise
+you. Briefly--we have filled a piece of mechanism with the
+composition or essence of Life!--that is the only answer I can give
+to your enquiring looks!--let it be enough!"
+
+"But, Madama"--ventured Gaspard--"that composition or essence of
+Life!--what is it?"
+
+There was an instant's silence. Every man's head craned forward
+eagerly to hear the reply. Morgana smiled strangely.
+
+"That," she said--"is MY secret!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+"And now you have attained your object, what is the use of it?" said
+Don Aloysius.
+
+The priest was pacing slowly up and down the old half-ruined
+cloister of an old half-ruined monastery, and beside his stately,
+black-robed figure moved the small aerial form of Morgana, clad in
+summer garments of pure white, her golden head uncovered to the
+strong Sicilian sunshine which came piercing in sword-like rays
+through the arches of the cloister, and filtered among the
+clustering leaves which hung in cool twining bunches from every
+crumbling grey pillar of stone.
+
+"What is the use of it?" he repeated, his calm eyes resting gravely
+on the little creature gliding sylph-like beside him. "Suppose your
+invention out-reaped every limit of known possibility--suppose your
+air-ship to be invulnerable, and surpassing in speed and safety
+everything ever experienced,--suppose it could travel to heights
+unimaginable, what then? Suppose even that you could alight on
+another star--another world than this--what purpose is served?--what
+peace is gained?--what happens?"
+
+Morgana stopped abruptly in her walk beside him.
+
+"I have not worked for peace or happiness,"--she said and there was
+a thrill of sadness in her voice--"because to my mind neither peace
+nor happiness exist. From all we can see, and from the little we can
+learn, I think the Maker of the universe never meant us to be happy
+or peaceful. All Nature is at strife with itself, incessantly
+labouring for such attainment as can hardly be won,--all things seem
+to be haunted by fear and sorrow. And yet it seems to me that there
+are remedies for most of our evils in the very composition of the
+elements--if we were not ignorant and stupid enough to discourage
+our discoverers on the verge of discovery. My application of a
+certain substance, known to scientists, but scarcely understood, is
+an attempt to solve the problem of swift aerial motion by light and
+heat--light and heat being the chiefest supports of life. To use a
+force giving out light and heat continuously seemed to me the way to
+create and command equally continuous movement. I have--I think and
+hope--fairly succeeded, and in order to accomplish my design I have
+used wealth that would not have been at the service of most
+inventors,--wealth which my father left to me quite
+unconditionally,--but were I able to fly with my 'White Eagle' to
+the remotest parts of the Milky Way itself, I should not look to
+find peace or happiness!"
+
+"Why?"
+
+The priest's simple query had a note of tender pity in it. Morgana
+looked up at him with a little smile, but her eyes were tearful.
+
+"Dear Don Aloysius, how can I tell 'why'? Nobody is really happy,
+and I cannot expect to have what is denied to the whole world!"
+
+Aloysius resumed his slow walk to and fro, and she kept quiet pace
+with him.
+
+"Have you ever thought what happiness is?" he asked, then--"Have you
+ever felt it for a passing moment?"
+
+"Yes"--she answered quickly--"But only at rare intervals--oh so
+rare! . . ."
+
+"Poor little rich child!" he said, kindly--"Tell me some of those
+'intervals'! Cannot they be repeated? Let us sit here"--and he moved
+towards a stone bench which fronted an ancient disused well in the
+middle square of the cloistered court,--a well round which a crimson
+passion-flower twined in a perfect arch of blossom--"What was the
+first 'interval'?"
+
+He sat down, and the sunshine sent a dazzling ray on the silver
+crucifix he wore, giving it the gleam of a great jewel. Morgana took
+her seat beside him.
+
+"Interval one!" he said, playfully--"What was this little lady's
+first experience of happiness? When she played with her dolls?"
+
+"No, oh no!" cried Morgana, with sudden energy--"That was anything
+but happiness! I hated dolls!--abominable little effigies!"
+
+Don Aloysius raised his eyebrows in surprise and amusement.
+
+"Horrid little stuffed things of wood and wax and saw-dust!"
+continued Morgana, emphatically--"With great beads for eyes--or eyes
+made to look like beads--and red cheeks,--and red lips with a silly
+smile on them! Of course they are given to girl-children to
+encourage the 'maternal instinct' as it is called--to make them
+think of babies,--but _I_ never had any 'maternal instinct'!--and
+real babies have always seemed to me as uninteresting as sham ones!"
+
+"Dear child, you were a baby yourself once!"--said Aloysius gently.
+
+A shadow swept over her face.
+
+"Do you think I was?" she queried meditatively--"I cannot imagine
+it! I suppose I must have been, but I never remember being a child
+at all. I had no children to play with me--my father suspected all
+children of either disease or wickedness, and imagined I would catch
+infection of body or of soul by association with them. I was always
+alone--alone!--yet not lonely!" She broke off a moment, and her eyes
+grew dark with the intensity of her thought "No--never lonely! And
+the very earliest 'interval' of happiness I can recall was when I
+first saw the inside of a sun-ray!"
+
+Don Aloysius turned to look at her, but said nothing. She laughed.
+
+"Dear Father Aloysius, what a wise priest you are! Not a word falls
+from those beautifully set lips of yours! If you were a fool--(so
+many men are!) you would have repeated my phrase, 'the inside of a
+sun-ray,' with an accent of scornful incredulity, and you would have
+stared at me with all a fool's contempt! But you are not a fool,--
+you know or you perceive instinctively exactly what I mean. The
+inside of a sun-ray!--it was disclosed to me suddenly--a veritable
+miracle! I have seen it many times since, but not with all the
+wonder and ecstasy of the first revelation. I was so young, too! I
+told a renowned professor at one of the American colleges just what
+I saw, and he was so amazed and confounded at my description of rays
+that had taken the best scientists years to discover, that he begged
+to be allowed to examine my eyes! He thought there must be something
+unusual about them. In fact there IS!--and after his examination he
+seemed more puzzled than ever. He said something about 'an
+exceptionally strong power of vision,' but frankly admitted that
+power of vision alone would not account for it. Anyhow I plainly saw
+all the rays within one ray--there were seven. The ray itself was--
+or so I fancied--the octave of colour. I was little more than a
+child when this 'interval' of happiness--PERFECT happiness!--was
+granted to me--I felt as if a window had been opened for me to look
+through it into heaven!"
+
+"Do you believe in heaven?" asked Aloysius, suddenly.
+
+She hesitated.
+
+"I used to,--in those days. As I have just said I was only a child,
+and heaven was a real place to me,--even the angels were real
+presences--"
+
+"And you have lost them now?"
+
+She gave a little gesture of resignation.
+
+"They left me"--she answered--"I did not lose them. They simply
+went."
+
+He was silent. His fine, calm features expressed a certain grave
+patience, but nothing more.
+
+She resumed--
+
+"That was my first experience of real 'happiness.' Till then I had
+lived the usual monotonous life of childhood, doing what I was told,
+and going whither I was taken, but the disclosure of the sun-ray was
+a key to individuality, and seemed to unlock my prison doors. I
+began to think for myself, and to find my own character as a
+creature apart from others. My second experience was years after,--
+just when I left school and when my father took me to see the place
+where I was born, in the north of Scotland. Oh, it is such a wild
+corner of the world! Beautiful craggy hills and dark, deep lakes--
+rough moorlands purple with heather and such wonderful skies at
+sunset! The cottage where my father had lived as a boy when he
+herded sheep is still there--I have bought it for myself now,--it is
+a little stone hut of three rooms,--and another one about a mile off
+where he took my mother to live, and where I came into the world!--I
+have bought that too. Yes--I felt a great thrill of happiness when I
+stood there knee-deep among the heather, my father clasping my hand,
+and looking, with me, on those early scenes of his boyhood when he
+had scarcely a penny to call his own! Yet HE was sad!--very sad! and
+told me then that he would give all his riches to feel as light of
+heart and free from care as he did in those old days! And then--then
+we went to see old Alison--" Here she broke off,--a strange light
+came into her eyes and she smiled a little. "I think I had better
+not tell you about old Alison!" she said.
+
+"Why not?" and Don Aloysius returned her smile. "If old Alison has
+anything to do with your happiness I should like to hear."
+
+"Well, you see, you are a priest," went on Morgana, slowly, "and she
+is a witch. Oh yes, truly!--a real witch! There is no one in all
+that part of the Highlands that does not know of her, and the power
+she has! She is very, very old--some folks say she is more than a
+hundred. She knew my father and grandfather--she came to my father's
+cottage the night I was born, and said strange things about a 'May
+child'--I was born in May. We went--as I tell you--to see her, and
+found her spinning. She looked up from her wheel as we entered--but
+she did not seem surprised at our coming. Her eyes were very bright-
+-not like the eyes of an old person. She spoke to my father at once-
+-her voice was very clear and musical. 'Is it you, John Royal?' she
+said--'and you have brought your fey lass along with you!' That was
+the first time I ever heard the word 'fey.' I did not understand it
+then."
+
+"And do you understand it now?" asked Aloysius.
+
+"Yes"--she replied,--"I understand it now! It is a wonderful thing
+to be born 'fey'! But it is a kind of witchcraft,--and you would be
+displeased--"
+
+"At what should I be displeased?" and the priest bent his eyes very
+searchingly upon her--"At the fact,--which none can disprove,--that
+'there are things in heaven and earth' which are beyond our
+immediate knowledge? That there are women strangely endowed with
+premonitory instincts land preternatural gifts? Dear child, there is
+nothing in all this that can or could displease me! My faith--the
+faith of my Church--is founded on the preternatural endowment of a
+woman!"
+
+She lifted her eyes to his, and a little sigh came from her lips.
+
+"Yes, I know what you mean!"--she said--"But I am sure you cannot
+possibly realise the weird nature of old Alison! She made me stand
+before her, just where the light of the sun streamed through the
+open doorway, and she looked at me for a long time with such a
+steady piercing glance that I felt as if her eyes were boring
+through my flesh. Then she got up from her spinning and pushed away
+the wheel, and stretched out both her hands towards me, crying out
+in quite a strange, wild voice--'Morgana! Morgana! Go your ways,
+child begotten of the sun and shower!--go your ways! Little had
+mortal father or mother to do with your making, for you are of the
+fey folk! Go your ways with your own people!--you shall hear them
+whispering in the night and singing in the morning,--and they shall
+command you and you shall obey!--they shall beckon and you shall
+follow! Nothing of mortal flesh and blood shall hold you--no love
+shall bind you,--no hate shall wound you!--the clue is given into
+your hand,--the secret is disclosed--and the spirits of air and fire
+and water have opened a door that you may enter in! Hark!--I can
+hear their voices calling "Morgana! Morgana!" Go your ways, child!--
+go hence and far!--the world is too small for your wings!' She
+looked so fierce and grand and terrible that I was frightened--I was
+only a girl of sixteen, and I ran to my father and caught his hand.
+He spoke quite gently to Alison, but she seemed quite beyond herself
+and unable to listen. 'Your way lies down a different road, John
+Royal'--she said--'You that herded sheep on these hills and that now
+hoard millions of money--of what use to you is your wealth? You are
+but the worker,--gathering gold for HER--the "fey" child born in an
+hour of May moonlight! You must go, but she must stay,--her own folk
+have work for her to do!' Then my father said, 'Dear Alison, don't
+frighten the child!' and she suddenly changed in her tone and
+manner. 'Frighten her?' she muttered. 'I would not frighten her for
+the world!' And my father pushed me towards her and whispered--'Ask
+her to bless you before you go.' So I just knelt before her,
+trembling very much, and said, 'Dear Alison, bless me!'--and she
+stared at me and lifted her old brown wrinkled hands and laid them
+on my head. Then she spoke some words in a strange language as to
+herself, and afterwards she said, 'Spirit of all that is and ever
+shall be, bless this child who belongs to thee, and not to man! Give
+her the power to do what is commanded, to the end.' And at this she
+stopped suddenly and bending down she lifted my head in her two
+hands and looked at me hard--'Poor child, poor child! Never a love
+for you--never a love! Alone you are, alone you must be! Never a
+love for a "fey" woman!' And she let me go, and sat down again to
+her spinning-wheel, nor would she say another word--neither to me
+nor to my father."
+
+"And you call THIS your second experience of happiness?" said Don
+Aloysius, wonderingly--"What happiness did you gain by your
+interview with this old Alison?"
+
+"Ah!" and Morgana smiled--"You would not understand me if I tried to
+explain! Everything came to me!--yes, everything! I began to live in
+a world of my own--" she paused, and her eyes grew dark and pensive,
+"and I have lived in it ever since. That is why I say my visit to
+old Alison was my second experience of happiness. I've seen her
+again many times since then, but not with quite the same
+impression."
+
+"She is alive still?"
+
+"Oh, yes! I often fancy she will never die!"
+
+There was a silence of some minutes. Morgana rose, and crossing over
+to the old well, studied the crimson passion-flowers which twined
+about it, with almost loving scrutiny.
+
+"How beautiful they are!" she said--"And they seem to serve no
+purpose save that of simple beauty!"
+
+"That is enough for many of God's creatures"--said Aloysius--"To
+give joy and re-create joy is the mission of perfection."
+
+She looked at him wistfully.
+
+"Alas, poor me!" she sighed--"I can neither give joy nor create it!"
+
+"Not even with all your wealth?"
+
+"Not even with all my wealth!" she echoed. "Surely you--a priest--
+know what a delusion wealth really is so far as happiness goes?--
+mere happiness? course you can buy everything with it--and there's
+the trouble! When everything is bought there's nothing left! And if
+you try to help the poor they resent it--they think you are doing it
+because you are afraid of them! Perhaps the worst of all things to
+do is to help artists--artists of every kind!--for THEY say you want
+to advertise yourself as a 'generous patron'! Oh, I've tried it all
+and it's no use. I was just crazy to help all the scientists,--
+once!--but they argued and quarrelled so much as to which 'society'
+deserved most money that I dropped the whole offer, and started
+'scientising' myself. There is one man I tried to lift out of his
+brain-bog,--but he would have none of me, and he is still in his
+bog!"
+
+"Oh! There is one man!" said Aloysius, with a smile.
+
+"Yes, good father!" And Morgana left the passion-flowers and moved
+slowly back to her seat on the stone-bench--"There is one man! He
+was my third and last experience of happiness. When I first met him,
+my whole heart gave itself in one big pulsation--but like a wave of
+the sea, the pulsation recoiled, and never again beat on the grim
+rock of human egoism!" She laughed gaily, and a delicate colour
+flushed her face. "But I was happy while the 'wave' lasted,--and
+when it broke, I still played on the shore with its pretty foam-
+bells."
+
+"You loved this man?" and the priest's grave eyes dwelt on her
+searchingly.
+
+"I suppose so--for the moment! Yet no,--it was not love--it was just
+an 'attraction'--he was--he IS--clever, and thinks he can change the
+face of the world. But he is fooling with fire! I tell you I tried
+to help him--for he is deadly poor. But he would have none of me nor
+of what he calls my 'vulgar wealth.' This is a case in point where
+wealth is useless! You see?"
+
+Don Aloysius was silent.
+
+"Then"--Morgana went on--"Alison is right. The witchery of the
+Northern Highlands is in my blood,--never a love for me--alone I am-
+-alone I must be!--never a love for a 'fey' woman!"
+
+Over the priest's face there passed a quiver as of sudden pain.
+
+"You wrong yourself, my child"--he said, slowly--"You wrong yourself
+very greatly! You have a power of which you appear to be
+unconscious--a great, a terrible power!--you compel interest--you
+attract the love of others even if you yourself love no one--you
+draw the very soul out of a man--"
+
+He paused, abruptly.
+
+Morgana raised her eyes,--the blue lightning gleam flashed in their
+depths.
+
+"Ah, yes!" she half whispered--"I know I have THAT power!"
+
+Don Aloysius rose to his feet.
+
+"Then,--if you know it,--in God's name do not exercise it!" he said.
+
+His voice shook--and with his right hand he gripped the crucifix he
+wore as though it were a weapon of self-defence. Morgana looked at
+him wonderingly for a moment,--then drooped her head with a strange
+little air of sudden penitence. Aloysius drew a quick sharp breath
+as of one in effort,--then he spoke again, unsteadily--
+
+"I mean"--he said, smiling forcedly--"I mean that you should not--
+you should not break the heart of--of--the poor Giulio for
+instance!. . . it would not be kind."
+
+She lifted her eyes again and fixed them on him.
+
+"No, it would not be kind!" she said, softly--"Dear Don Aloysius, I
+understand! And I will remember!" She glanced at a tiny diamond-set
+watch-bracelet on her wrist--"How late it is!--nearly all the
+morning gone! I have kept you so long listening to my talk--forgive
+me! I will run away now and leave you to think about my 'intervals'
+of happiness,--will you?--they are so few compared to yours!"
+
+"Mine?" he echoed amazedly.
+
+"Yes, indeed!--yours! Your whole life is an interval of happiness
+between this world and the next, because you are satisfied in the
+service of God!"
+
+"A poor service!" he said, turning his gaze away from her elfin
+figure and shining hair--"Unworthy,--shameful!--marred by sin at
+every moment! A priest of the Church must learn to do without
+happiness such as ordinary life can give--and without love,--such as
+woman may give--but--after all--the sacrifice is little."
+
+She smiled at him, sweetly--tenderly,
+
+"Very little!" she said--"So little that it is not worth a regret!
+Good-bye! But not for long! Come and see me soon!"
+
+Moving across the cloister with her light step she seemed to float
+through the sunshine like a part of it, and as she disappeared a
+kind of shadow fell, though no cloud obscured the sun. Don Aloysius
+watched her till she had vanished,--then turned aside into a small
+chapel opening out on the cloistered square--a chapel which formed
+part of the monastic house to which he belonged as Superior,--and
+there, within that still, incense-sweetened sanctuary, he knelt
+before the noble, pictured Head of the Man of Sorrows in silent
+confession and prayer.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+Roger Seaton was a man of many philosophies. He had one for every
+day in the week, yet none wherewith to thoroughly satisfy himself.
+While still a mere lad he had taken to the study of science as a
+duck takes to water,--no new discovery or even suggestion of a new
+discovery missed his instant and close attention. His avidity for
+learning was insatiable,--his intense and insistent curiosity on all
+matters of chemistry gave a knife-like edge to the quality of his
+brain, making it sharp, brilliant and incisive. To him the ordinary
+social and political interests of the world were simply absurd. The
+idea that the greater majority of men should be created for no
+higher purpose than those of an insect, just to live, eat, breed,
+and die, was to him preposterous.
+
+"Think of it!" he would exclaim--"All this wondrous organisation of
+our planet for THAT! For a biped so stupid as to see nothing in his
+surroundings but conveniences for satisfying his stomach and his
+passions! We men are educated chiefly in order to learn how to make
+money, and all we can do with the money WHEN made, is to build
+houses to live in, eat as much as we want and more, and breed
+children to whom we leave all the stuff we have earned, and who
+either waste it or add to it, whichever suits their selfishness
+best. Such lives are absolutely useless,--they repeat the same old
+round, leading nowhere. Occasionally, in the course of centuries a
+real Brain is born--and at once, all who are merely Bodies leap up
+against it, like famished wolves, striving to tear it to pieces and
+devour it--if it survives the attack its worth is only recognised
+long after its owner has perished. The whole scheme is manifestly
+unintelligent and ludicrous, but it is not intended to be so--of
+that I am sure. THERE MUST BE SOMETHING ELSE!"
+
+When urged to explain what he conceived as this "something else," he
+would answer--
+
+"There has always been 'something else' in our environment,--
+something that stupid humanity has taken centuries to discover.
+Sound-waves for example--light-rays,--electricity--these have been
+freely at our service from the beginning. Electricity might have
+been used ages ago, had not dull-witted man refused to find anything
+better for lighting purposes than an oil-lamp or a tallow candle!
+If, in past periods, he had been told 'there is something else'--he
+would have laughed his informant to scorn. So with our blundering
+methods of living--'there is something else'--not after death, but
+NOW and HERE. We are going about in the darkness with a candle when
+a great force of wider light is all round us, only awaiting
+connection and application to our uses."
+
+Those who heard him speak in this way--(and they were few, for
+Seaton seldom discussed his theories with others)--convinced
+themselves that he was either a fool or a madman,--the usual verdict
+given for any human being who dares break away from convention and
+adopt an original line of thought and action. But they came to the
+conclusion that as he was direfully poor, and nevertheless refused
+various opportunities of making money, his folly or his madness
+would be brought home to him sooner or later by strong necessity,
+and that he would then either arrive at a sane every-day realisation
+of "things as they are"--or else be put away in an asylum and
+quietly forgotten. This being the sagacious opinion of those who
+knew him best, there was a considerable flutter in such limited
+American circles as call themselves "upper" when the wealthiest
+young woman in the States, Morgana Royal, suddenly elected to know
+him and to bring him into prominent notice at her parties as "the
+most wonderful genius of the time"--"a man whose scientific
+discoveries might change the very face of the globe"--and other
+fantastically exaggerated descriptions of her own which he himself
+strongly repudiated and resented. Gossip ran amok concerning the
+two, and it was generally agreed that if the "madman" of science
+were to become the husband of a woman multi-millionaire, he would
+not have to be considered so mad after all! But the expected romance
+did not materialise,--there came apparently a gradual "cooling off"
+in the sentiments of both parties concerned,--and though Roger
+Seaton was still occasionally seen with Morgana in her automobile,
+in her opera-box, or at her receptions, his appearances were fewer,
+and other men, in fact many other men, were more openly encouraged
+and flattered,--Morgana herself showing as much indifference towards
+him as she had at first shown interest. When, therefore, he suddenly
+left the social scene of action, his acquaintances surmised that he
+had got an abrupt dismissal, or as they more brusquely expressed it-
+-"the game's up"!
+
+"He's lost his chance!" they said, shaking their heads forlornly--
+"And he's poorer than Job! He'll be selling newspapers in the cars
+for a living by and by!"
+
+However, he was never met engaged in this lucrative way of
+business,--he simply turned his back on everybody, Morgana Royal
+included, and so far as "society" was concerned, just disappeared.
+In the "hut of the dying" on that lonely hill-slope in California he
+was happy, feeling a relief from infinite boredom, and thankful to
+be alone. He had much to think about and much to do--inhabited
+places and the movement of people were to him tedious and fatiguing,
+and he decided that nature,--wild nature in a solitary and savage
+aspect,--would suit his speculative and creative tendencies best.
+Yet, like all human beings, he had his odd, almost child-like moods,
+inexplicable even to himself--moods illogical, almost pettish, and
+wholly incongruous with his own accepted principles of reasoning.
+For instance, he maintained that women had neither attraction nor
+interest for him--yet he found himself singularly displeased when
+after two or three days of utter solitude, and when he was rather
+eagerly expecting Manella to arrive with the new milk which was his
+staple food, a lanky, red-haired ugly boy appeared instead of her--a
+boy who slouched along, swinging the milk pail in one hand and
+clutching a half-munched slice of pine-apple in the other.
+
+"Hello--o!" called this individual. "Not dead yet?"
+
+For answer Seaton strode forward and taking the milk-pail from him
+gripped him by the dirty cotton shirt and gave him a brief but
+severe shaking.
+
+"No,--not dead yet!" he said--"You insolent young monkey! Who are
+you?"
+
+The boy wriggled in his captor's clutch, and tried to squirm himself
+out of it.
+
+"I'm--I'm Jake--they calls me Irish Jake"--he gasped--"O Blessed
+Mary!--my breath! I clean the knives at the Plaza--"
+
+"I'll clean knives for you presently!" remarked Seaton, with a
+threatening gesture--"Yes, Irish Jake, I will! Who sent you here?"
+
+"SHE did--oh, Mary mother!" and the youth gave a further wriggle--
+"Miss Soriso--the girl they call Manella. She told me to say she's
+too busy to come herself."
+
+Seaton let go the handful of shirt he had held.
+
+"Too busy to come herself!" he repeated, slowly--then smiled--"Well!
+That's all right!" Here he lifted the pail of milk, took it into his
+hut and brought it back empty, while "Irish Jake," as the boy had
+called himself, stood staring--"Tell Miss Soriso that I quite
+understand! And that I'm delighted to hear she is so busy! Now, let
+us see!" Here he pulled some money out of his pocket, and fingered a
+few dirty paper notes--"There, Irish Jake! You'll find that's
+correct. And when you come here again don't forget your manners!
+See? Then you may be able to keep that disgraceful shirt of yours
+on! Otherwise it's likely to be torn off! If you are Irish you
+should remember that in very ancient days there used to be manners
+in the Emerald Isle. Yes, positively! Fine, gracious, lovely
+manners! It doesn't look as if that will be ever any more--but we
+live in hope. Anyway, YOU--you young offspring of an Irish hybrid
+gorilla--you'd best remember what _I_ say, or there'll be trouble!
+And"--here he made a mock solemn bow--"My compliments to Miss
+Soriso!"
+
+The red-haired youth remained for a moment stock-still with mouth
+and eyes open,--then, snatching up the empty milk-pail he scampered
+down the hill-slope at a lightning quick run.
+
+Seaton looked after him with an air of contemptuous amusement.
+
+"Ugly little devil!" he soliloquised--"And yet Nature made him,--as
+she makes many hideous things--in a hurry, I presume, without any
+time for details or artistic finish. Well!"--here he stretched his
+arms out with a long sigh--"And the silly girl is 'too busy' to
+come! As if I could not see through THAT little game! She'd give her
+eyes to come!--fine eyes they are, too! She just thinks she'll pay
+me out for being rough with her the other day--she's got an idea
+that she'll vex me, and make me want to see her. She's right,--I AM
+vexed!--and I DO want to see her!"
+
+It was mid-morning, and the sun blazed down upon the hill-side with
+the scorching breath of a volcano. He turned into his hut,--it was a
+dark, cool little dwelling, comfortable enough for a single
+inhabitant. There was a camp-bed in one corner--and there were a
+couple of wicker chairs made for easy transposition into full-length
+couches if so required, A good sized deal table occupied the centre
+of the living-room,--and on the table was a clear crystal bowl full
+of what appeared at a first glance to be plain water, but which on
+closer observation showed a totally different quality. Unlike water
+it was never still,--some interior bubbling perpetually moved it to
+sway and sparkle, throwing out tiny flashes as though the smallest
+diamond cuttings were striving to escape from it--while it exhaled
+around itself an atmosphere of extreme coldness and freshness like
+that of ice. Seaton threw himself indolently into one of wicker
+chairs by the window--a window which was broad and wide, commanding
+a full view of distant mountains, and far away to the left a glimpse
+of sea.
+
+"I am vexed, and I want to see her"--he repeated, speaking aloud to
+himself--"Now--WHY? Why am I vexed?--and why do I want to see her?
+Reason gives no answer! If she were here she would bore me to death.
+I could do nothing. She would ask me questions--and if I answered
+them she would not understand,--she is too stupid. She has no
+comprehension of any thing beyond simple primitive animalism. Now if
+it were Morgana--"
+
+He stopped in his talk, and started as if he had been stung. Some
+subtle influence stole over him like the perfumed mist of incense--
+he leaned back in his chair and half closed his eyes. What was the
+stealthy, creeping magnetic power that like an invisible hand
+touched his brain and pulled at his memory, and forced him to see
+before him a small elf-like figure clad in white, with a rope of
+gold hair twisting, snake-like, down over its shoulders and
+glistening in the light of the moon? For the moment he lost his
+usual iron mastery of will and let himself go on the white flood of
+a dream. He recalled his first meeting with Morgana,--one of
+accident, not design--in the great laboratory of a distinguished
+scientist,--he had taken her for a little girl student trying to
+master a few principles of chemistry, and was astonished and
+incredulous when the distinguished scientist himself had introduced
+her as "one of our most brilliant theorists on the future
+development of radio activity." Such a description seemed altogether
+absurd, applied to a little fair creature with beseeching blue eyes
+and gold hair! They had left the laboratory together, walking some
+way in company and charmed with each other's conversation, then,
+when closer acquaintance followed, and he had learned her true
+position in social circles and the power she wielded owing to her
+vast wealth, he at once withdrew from her as much as was civilly
+possible, disliking the suggestion of any sordid motive for his
+friendship. But she had so sweetly reproached him for this, and had
+enticed him on--yes!--he swore it within himself,--she had enticed
+him on in a thousand ways,--most especially by the amazing "grip"
+she had of scientific problems in which he was interested and which
+puzzled him, but which she seemed to unravel as easily as she might
+unravel a skein of wool. Her clear brightness of brain and logical
+precision of argument first surprised him into unqualified
+admiration, calling to his mind the assertion of a renowned
+physiologist that "From the beginning woman had lived in another
+world than man. Formed of finer vibrations and consequently finer
+chemical atoms she is in touch with more subtle planes of existence
+and of sensation and ideation. She holds unchallenged the code of
+Life." Then admiration yielded to the usual under-sense of masculine
+resentment against feminine intellectuality, and a kind of
+smouldering wrath and opposition took the place of his former
+chivalry and the almost tender pleasure he had previously felt in
+her exceptional genius and ability. And there came an evening--why
+did he think of it now, he wondered?--when, after a brilliant summer
+ball given at the beautiful residence of a noted society woman on
+Long Island, he had taken Morgana out into their hostess's garden
+which sloped to the sea, and they had strolled together almost
+unknowingly down to the shore where, under the light of the moon,
+the Atlantic waves, sunken to little dainty frills of lace-like
+foam, broke murmuringly at their feet,--and he, turning suddenly to
+his companion, was all at once smitten by a sense of witchery in her
+looks as she stood garmented in her white, vaporous ball-gown, with
+diamonds in her hair and on her bosom--smitten with an overpowering
+lightning-stroke of passion which burnt his soul as a desert is
+burnt by the hot breath of the simoon, and, yielding to its force,
+he had caught the small, fine, fairy creature in his arms and kissed
+her wildly on lips and eyes and hair. And she,--she had not
+resisted. Then--as swiftly as he had clasped her he let her go--and
+stood before her in a strange spirit of defiance.
+
+"Forgive me!" he said, in low uneven tones--"I--I did not mean it!"
+
+She lifted her eyes to his, half proudly half appealingly.
+
+"You did not mean it?" she asked, quietly.
+
+An amazed scorn flashed into her face, clouding its former
+sweetness--then she smiled coldly, turned away and left him. In a
+kind of stupor he watched her go, her light figure disappearing by
+degrees, as she went up the ascending path from the sea to the house
+where gay music was still sounding for dancers not yet grown weary.
+And from that evening a kind of silence fell between them,--they
+were separated as by an ice-floe. They met often in the social
+round, but scarcely spoke more than the ordinary words of
+conventional civility, and Morgana apparently gave herself up to
+frivolity, coquetting with her numerous admirers and would-be
+husbands in a casual, not to say heartless, manner which provoked
+Seaton past endurance,--so much so that he worked himself up to a
+kind of cynical detestation and contempt for her, both as a student
+of science and a woman of wealth. And yet--and yet--he had almost
+loved her! And a thing that goaded him to the quick was that so far
+as scientific knowledge and attainment were concerned she was more
+than his equal. Irritated by his own quarrelsome set of sentiments
+which pulled him first this way and then that, he decided that the
+only thing possible for him was to put a "great divide" of distance
+between himself and her. This he had done--and to what purpose?
+Apparently merely to excite her ridicule!--and to prick her humor up
+to the mischievous prank of finding out where he had fled and
+following him! And she--even she--who had kept him aloof ever since
+that fatal moment on the seashore,--had discovered him on this
+lonely hill-side, and had taunted him with her light mockery
+
+--and actually said that "to kiss him would be like kissing a bunch
+of nettles!"--SHE said that!--she who for one wild moment he had
+held in his arms--bah!--he sprang up from his chair in a kind of
+rage with himself, as his thoughts crowded thick and fast one on the
+other--why did he think of her at all! It was as if some external
+commanding force compelled him to do so. Then--she had seen Manella,
+and had naturally drawn her own conclusions, based on the girl's
+rich beauty which was so temptingly set within his reach. He began
+to talk to himself aloud once more, picking up the thread of his
+broken converse where he had left it--
+
+"If it were Morgana it would be far worse than if it were Manella!"
+he said--"The one is too stupid--the other too clever. But the
+stupid woman would make the best wife--if I wanted one--which I do
+not; and the best mother, if I desired children,--which I do not.
+The question is,--what DO I want? I think I know--but supposing I
+get it, shall I be satisfied? Will it fulfil my life's desire? What
+IS my life's desire?"
+
+He stood inert--his tall figure erect--his eyes full of strange and
+meditative earnestness, and for a moment he seemed to gather his
+mental forces together with an effort. Turning towards the table
+where the bowl of constantly sparkling fluid danced in tiny flashing
+eddies within its crystal prison, he watched its movement.
+
+"There's the clue!" he said--"so little--yet so much! Life that
+cannot cease--force that cannot die! For me--for me alone this
+secret!--to do with it what I will--to destroy or to re-create! How
+shall I use it? If I could sweep the planet clean of its greedy,
+contentious human microbes, and found a new race I might be a power
+for good,--but should I care to do this? If God does not care, why
+should I?"
+
+He lost himself anew in musing--then, rousing his mind to work, he
+put paper, pens and ink on the table, and started writing busily--
+only interrupting himself once for a light meal of dry bread and
+milk during a stretch of six or seven hours. At the end of his self-
+appointed time, he went out of the hut to see, as he often expressed
+it, "what the sky was doing." It was not doing much, being a mere
+hot glare in which the sun was beginning to roll westwards slowly
+like a sinking fire-ball. He brought out one of the wicker chairs
+from the hut and set it in the only patch of shade by the door,
+stretching himself full length upon it, and closing his eyes,
+composed himself to sleep. His face in repose was a remarkably
+handsome one,--a little hard in outline, but strong, nobly featured
+and expressive of power,--an ambitious sculptor would have rejoiced
+in him as a model for Achilles. He was as unlike the modern hideous
+type of man as he could well be,--and most particularly unlike any
+specimen of American that could be found on the whole huge
+continent. In truth he was purely and essentially English of
+England,--one of the fine old breed of men nurtured among the winds
+and waves of the north, for whom no labour was too hard, no service
+too exacting, no death too difficult, provided "the word was the
+bond." His natural gifts of intellect were very great, and profound
+study had ripened and rounded them to fruition,--certain discoveries
+in chemistry which he had tested were brought to the attention of
+his own country's scientists, who in their usual way of accepting
+new light on old subjects smiled placidly, shook their heads, pooh-
+poohed, and finally set aside the matter "for future discussion."
+But Roger Seaton was not of a nature to sink under a rebuff. If the
+Wise Men of Gotham in England refused to take first advantage of the
+knowledge he had to offer them, then the Wise Men of Gotham in
+Germany or the United States should have their chance. He tried the
+United States and was received with open arms and open minds. So he
+resolved to stay there, for a few years at any rate, and managed to
+secure a position with the tireless magician Edison, in whose
+workshops he toiled patiently as an underling, obtaining deeper
+grasp of his own instinctive knowledge, and further insight into an
+immense nature secret which he had determined to master alone. He
+had not mastered it yet--but felt fairly confident that he was near
+the goal. As he slept peacefully, with the still shade of a heavily
+foliaged vine which ramped over the roof of the hut, sheltering his
+face from the sun, his whole form in its relaxed, easy attitude
+expressed force in repose,--physical energy held in leash.
+
+The sun sank lower, its hue changing from poppy red to burning
+orange--and presently a woman's figure appeared on the hill slope,
+and cautiously approached the sleeper--a beautiful figure of classic
+mould and line, clothed in a simple white linen garb, with a red
+rose at its breast. It was Manella. She had taken extraordinary
+pains with her attire, plain though it was--something dainty and
+artistic in the manner of its wearing made its simplicity
+picturesque,--and the red rose at her bosom was effectively
+supplemented by another in her hair, showing brilliantly against its
+rich blackness. She stopped when about three paces away from the
+sleeping man and watched him with a wonderful tenderness. Her lips
+quivered sweetly--her lovely eyes shone with a soft wistfulness,--
+she looked indeed, as Morgana had said of her, "quite beautiful."
+Instinctively aware in slumber that he was not alone, Seaton
+stirred--opened his eyes, and sprang up.
+
+"What! Manella!" he exclaimed--"I thought you were too busy to
+come!"
+
+She hung her head a little shamefacedly.
+
+"I HAD to come"--she answered--"There was no one else ready to bring
+this--for you."
+
+She held out a telegram. He opened and read it. It was very brief--
+"Shall be with you to-morrow. Gwent."
+
+He folded it and put it in his pocket. Then he turned to Manella,
+smiling.
+
+"Very good of you to bring this!" he said--"Why didn't you send
+Irish Jake?"
+
+"He is taking luggage down from the rooms," she answered--"Many
+people are going away to-day."
+
+"Is that why you are 'so busy'"? he asked, the smile still dancing
+in his eyes.
+
+She gave a little toss of her head but said nothing.
+
+"And how fine we are to-day!" he said, glancing over her with an air
+of undisguised admiration--"White suits you, Manella! You should
+always wear it! For what fortunate man have you dressed yourself so
+prettily?"
+
+She shrugged her shoulders expressively--
+
+"For you!"
+
+"For me? Oh, Manella! What a frank confession! And what a
+contradiction you are to yourself! For did you not send word by that
+Irish monkey that you were 'too busy to come'? And yet you dress
+yourself in white, with red roses, for ME! And you come after all!
+Capricious child! Oh Senora Soriso, how greatly honoured I am!"
+
+She looked straight at him.
+
+"You laugh, you laugh!" she said--"But I do not care! You can laugh
+at me all the time if you like. But--you cannot help looking at me!
+Ah yes!--you cannot help THAT!"
+
+A triumphant glory flashed in her eyes--her red lips parted in a
+ravishing smile.
+
+"You cannot help it!" she repeated--"That little white lady--that
+friend of yours whom you hate and love at the same time!--she told
+me I was 'quite beautiful!' I know I am!--and you know it too!"
+
+He bent his eyes upon her gravely.
+
+"I have always known it--yes!"--he said, then paused--"Dear child,
+beauty is nothing--"
+
+She made a swift step towards him and laid a hand on his arm. Her
+ardent, glowing face was next to his.
+
+"You speak not truly!" and her voice was tremulous--"To a man it is
+everything!"
+
+Her physical fascination was magnetic, and for a moment he had some
+trouble to resist its spell. Very gently he put an arm round her,--
+and with a tender delicacy of touch unfastened the rose she wore at
+her bosom.
+
+"There, dear!" he said--"I will keep this with me for company! It is
+like you--except that it doesn't talk and doesn't ask for love--"
+
+"It has it without asking!" she murmured.
+
+He smiled.
+
+"Has it? Well,--perhaps it has!" He paused--then stooping his tall
+head kissed her once on the lips as a brother might have kissed her.
+"And perhaps--one day--when the right man comes along, you will have
+it too!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+Mr. Sam Gwent stood in what was known as the "floral hall" of the
+Plaza Hotel, so called because it was built in colonnades which
+opened into various vistas of flowers and clambering vines growing
+with all the luxuriance common to California. He had just arrived,
+and while divesting himself of a light dust overcoat interrogated
+the official at the enquiry office.
+
+"So he doesn't live here after all,"--he said--"Then where's he to
+be found?"
+
+"Mr. Seaton has taken the hill hut"--replied the book-keeper--"'The
+hut of the dying' it is sometimes called. He prefers it to the
+hotel. The air is better for his lungs."
+
+"Air? Lungs?"--Gwent sniffed contemptuously. "There's very little
+the matter with his lungs if he's the man _I_ know! Where's this hut
+of the dying? Can I get there straight?"
+
+The bookkeeper touched a bell, and Manella appeared. Gwent stared
+openly. Here--if "prize beauties" were anything--was a real winner!
+
+"This gentleman wants Mr. Seaton"--said the bookkeeper--"Just show
+him the way up the hill."
+
+"Sorry to trouble you!" said Gwent, raising his hat with a courtesy
+not common to his manner.
+
+"Oh, it is no trouble!" and Manella smiled at him in the most
+ravishing way--"The path is quite easy to follow."
+
+She preceded him out of the "floral hall," and across the great
+gardens, now in their most brilliant bloom to a gate which she
+opened, pointing with one hand towards the hill where the flat
+outline of the "hut of the dying" could be seen clear against the
+sky.
+
+"There it is"--she explained--"It's nothing of a climb, even on the
+warmest day. And the air is quite different up there to what it is
+down here."
+
+"Better, I suppose?"
+
+"Oh, yes! Much better!"
+
+"And is that why Mr. Seaton lives in the hut? On account of the
+air?"
+
+Manella waved her hands expressively with a charming Spanish gesture
+of indifference.
+
+"I suppose so! How should I know? He is here for his health."
+
+Sam Gwent uttered a curious inward sound, something between a grunt
+and a cough.
+
+"Ah! I should like to know how long he's been ill!"
+
+Manella again gave her graceful gesture.
+
+"Surely you DO know if you are a friend of his?" she said.
+
+He looked keenly at her.
+
+"Are YOU a friend of his?"
+
+She smiled--almost laughed.
+
+"I? I am only a help in the Plaza--I take him his food--"
+
+"Take him his food!" Sam Gwent growled out something like an oath--
+"What! Can't he come and get it for himself? Is he treated like a
+bear in a cage or a baby in a cradle?"
+
+Manella gazed at him with reproachful soft eyes.
+
+"Oh, you are rough!" she said--"He pays for whatever little trouble
+he gives. Indeed it is no trouble! He lives very simply--only on new
+milk and bread. I expect his health will not stand anything else--
+though truly he does not look ill--"
+
+Gwent cut her description short.
+
+"Well, thank you for showing me the way, Senora or Senorita,
+whichever you are--I think you must be Spanish--"
+
+"Senorita"--she said, with gentle emphasis--"I am not married. You
+are right that I am Spanish."
+
+"Such eyes as yours were never born of any blood but Spanish!" said
+Gwent--"I knew that at once! That you are not married is a bit of
+luck for some man--the man you WILL marry! For the moment adios! I
+shall dine at the Plaza this evening, and shall very likely bring my
+friend with me."
+
+She shook her head smiling.
+
+"You will not!"
+
+"How so?"
+
+"Because he will not come!"
+
+She turned away, back towards the Hotel, and Gwent started to ascend
+the hill alone.
+
+"Here's a new sort of game!"--he thought--"A game I should never
+have imagined possible to a man like Roger Seaton! Hiding himself up
+here in a consumption hut, and getting a beautiful woman to wait on
+him and 'take him his food'! It beats most things I've heard of!
+Dollar sensation books aren't in it! I wonder what Morgana Royal
+would say to it, if she knew! He's given her the slip this time!"
+
+Half-way up the hill he paused to rest, and saw Seaton striding down
+at a rapid pace to meet him.
+
+"Hullo, Gwent!"
+
+"Hullo!"
+
+The two men shook hands.
+
+"I got your wire at the beginning of the week"--said Gwent--"and
+came as soon as I could get away. It's been a stiff journey too--but
+I wouldn't keep you waiting."
+
+"Thanks,--it's as much your affair as mine"--said Seaton--"The thing
+is ripe for action if you care to act. It's quite in your hands, I
+hardly thought you'd come--"
+
+"But I sent you a reply wire?"
+
+"Oh, yes--that's all right! But reply wires don't always clinch
+business. Yours arrived last night."
+
+"I wonder if it was ever delivered!" grumbled Gwent--"It was
+addressed to the Plaza Hotel--not to a hut on a hill!"
+
+Seaton laughed.
+
+"You've heard all about it I see! But the hut on the hill is a
+'dependence' of the Plaza--a sort of annex where dying men are put
+away to die peaceably--"
+
+"YOU are not a dying man!" said Gwent, very meaningly--"And I can't
+make out why you pretend to be one!"
+
+Again Seaton laughed.
+
+"I'm not pretending!--my dear Gwent, we're all dying men! One may
+die a little faster than another, but it's all the same sort of
+'rot, and rot, and thereby hangs a tale!' What's the news in
+Washington?"
+
+They walked up the hill slowly, side by side.
+
+"Not startling"--answered Gwent--then paused--and repeated--"Not
+startling--there's nothing startling nowadays--though some folks
+made a very good show of being startled when my nephew Jack shot
+himself."
+
+Seaton stopped in his walk.
+
+"Shot himself? That lad? Was he insane?"
+
+"Of course!--according to the coroner. Everybody is called 'insane'
+who gets out of the world when it's too difficult to live in. Some
+people would call it sane. I call it just--cowardice! Jack had lost
+his last chance, you see. Morgana Royal threw him over."
+
+Seaton paced along with a velvet-footed stride like a tiger on a
+trail.
+
+"Had she led him on?"
+
+"Rather! She leads all men 'on'--or they think she does. She led YOU
+on at one time!"
+
+Seaton turned upon him with a quick, savage movement.
+
+"Never! I saw through her from the first! She could never make a
+fool of ME!"
+
+Sam Gwent gave a short cough, expressing incredulity.
+
+"Well! Washington thought you were the favoured 'catch' and envied
+your luck! Certainly she showed a great preference for you--"
+
+"Can't you talk of something else?" interposed Seaton, impatiently.
+
+Gwent gave him an amused side-glance.
+
+"Why, of course I can!" he responded--"But I thought I'd tell you
+about Jack--"
+
+"I'm sorry!" said Seaton, hastily, conscious that he had been
+lacking in sympathy--"He was your heir, I believe?"
+
+"Yes,--he might have been, had he kept a bit straighter"--said
+Gwent--"But heirs are no good anywhere or anyhow. They only spend
+what they inherit and waste the honest work of a life-time. Is that
+your prize palace?"
+
+He pointed to the hut which they had almost reached.
+
+"That's it!" answered Seaton--"And I prefer it to any palace ever
+built. No servants, no furniture, no useless lumber--just a place to
+live in--enough for any man."
+
+"A tub was enough for Diogenes"--commented Gwent--"If we all lived
+in his way or your way it would be a poor look-out for trade!
+However, I presume you'll escape taxation here!"
+
+Seaton made no reply, but led the way into his dwelling, offering
+his visitor a chair.
+
+"I hope you've had breakfast"--he said--"For I haven't any to give
+you. You can have a glass of milk if you like?"
+
+Gwent made a wry face.
+
+"I'm not a good subject for primitive nourishment"--he said--"I've
+been weaned too long for it to agree with me!"
+
+He sat down. His eyes were at once attracted by the bowl of restless
+fluid on the table.
+
+"What's that?" he asked.
+
+Roger Seaton smiled enigmatically.
+
+"Only a trifle"--he answered--"Just health! It's a sort of
+talisman;--germ-proof, dust-proof, disease-proof! No microbe of
+mischief, however infinitesimal, can exist near it, and a few drops,
+taken into the system, revivify the whole."
+
+"If that's so, your fortune's made"--said Gwent, "Give your
+discovery, or recipe, or whatever it is, to the world---"
+
+"To keep the world alive? No, thank you!" And the look of dark scorn
+on Seaton's face was astonishing in its almost satanic expression--
+"That is precisely what I wish to avoid! The world is over-ripe and
+over-rotten,--and it is over-crowded with a festering humanity that
+is INhuman, and worse than bestial in its furious grappling for self
+and greed. One remedy for the evil would be that no children should
+be born in it for the next thirty or forty years--the relief would
+be incalculable,--a monstrous burden would be lifted, and there
+would be some chance of betterment,--but as this can never be, other
+remedies must be sought and found. It's pure hypocrisy to talk of
+love for children, when every day we read of mothers selling their
+offspring for so much cash down,--lately in China during a spell of
+famine parents killed their daughters like young calves, for food.
+Ugly facts like these have to be looked in the face--it's no use
+putting them behind one's back, and murmuring beautiful lies about
+'mother-love' and such nonsense. As for the old Mosaic commandment
+'Honour thy father and mother'--it's ordinary newspaper reading to
+hear of boys and girls attacking and murdering their parents for the
+sake of a few dollars."
+
+"You've got the ugly facts by heart"--said Gwent slowly--"But
+there's another and more cheerful outlook--if you choose to consider
+it. Newspaper reading always gives the worst and dirtiest side of
+everything--it wouldn't be newspaper stuff if it was clean.
+Newspapers remind me of the rotting heaps in gardens--all the
+rubbish piled together till the smell becomes a nuisance--then a
+good burning takes place of the whole collection and it makes a sort
+of fourth-rate manure." He paused a moment--then went on--
+
+"I'm not given to sentiment, but I dare say there are still a few
+folks who love each other in this world,--and it's good to know of
+when they do. My sister"--he paused again, as if something stuck in
+his throat; "My sister loved her boy,--Jack. His death has driven
+her silly for the time--doctors say she will recover--that it's only
+'shock.' 'Shock' is answerable for a good many tragedies since the
+European war."
+
+Seaton moved impatiently, but said nothing,
+
+"You're a bit on the fidgets"--resumed Gwent, placidly--"You want me
+to come to business--and I will. May I smoke?"
+
+His companion nodded, and he drew out his cigar-case, selecting from
+it a particularly fragrant Havana.
+
+"You don't do this sort of thing, or I'd offer you one,"--he said,--
+"Pity you don't, it soothes the nerves. But I know your 'fads'; you
+are too closely acquainted with the human organism to either smoke
+or drink. Well--every man to his own method! Now what you want me to
+do is this--to represent the force and meaning of a certain
+substance which you have discovered, to the government of the United
+States and induce them to purchase it. Is that so?"
+
+"That is so!" and Roger Seaton fixed his eyes on Gwent's hard,
+lantern-jawed face with a fiery intensity--"Remember, it's not
+child's play! Whoever takes what I can give, holds the mastery of
+the world! I offer it to the United States--but I would have
+preferred to offer it to Great Britain, being as I am, an
+Englishman. But the dilatory British men of science have snubbed me
+once--and I do not intend them to have the chance of doing it again.
+Briefly--I offer the United States the power to end wars, and all
+thought or possibility of war for ever. No Treaty of Versailles or
+any other treaty will ever be necessary. The only thing I ask in
+reward for my discovery is the government pledge to use it. That is,
+of course, should occasion arise. For my material needs, which are
+small, an allowance of a sum per annum as long as I live, will
+satisfy my ambition. The allowance may be as much or as little as is
+found convenient. The pledge to USE my discovery is the one all-
+important point--it must be a solemn, binding pledge--never to be
+broken."
+
+Gwent puffed slowly at his cigar.
+
+"It's a bit puzzling!"--he said--"When and where should it be used?"
+
+Seaton stretched out a hand argumentatively.
+
+"Now listen!" he said--"Suppose two nations quarrel--or rather,
+their governments and their press force them to quarrel--the United
+States (possessing my discovery) steps between and says--'Very well!
+The first move towards war--the first gun fired--means annihilation
+for one of you or both! We hold the power to do this!'"
+
+Gwent drew his cigar from his lips.
+
+"Annihilation!" he murmured--"Annihilation? For one or both!"
+
+"Just so--absolute annihilation!" and Seaton smiled with a pleasant
+air of triumph--"A holocaust of microbes! The United States must let
+the whole world know of their ability to do this (without giving
+away my discovery). They must say to the nations 'We will have no
+more wars. If innocent people are to be killed, they can be killed
+quite as easily in one way as another, and our way will cost
+nothing--neither ships nor ammunition nor guns.' And, of course, the
+disputants will be given time to decide their own fate for
+themselves."
+
+Sam Gwent, holding his cigar between his fingers and looking
+meditatively at its glowing end, smiled shrewdly.
+
+"All very well!"--he said--"But you forget money interests. Money
+interests always start a war--it isn't nations that do it, it's
+'companies.' Your stuff won't annihilate companies all over the
+globe. Governments are not likely to damage their own financial
+moves. Suppose the United States government agreed to your
+proposition and took the sole possession and proprietorship of your
+discovery, and gave you their written, signed and sealed pledge to
+use it, it doesn't at all follow that they would not break that
+pledge at the first opportunity. In these days governments break
+promises as easily as eggshells. And there would be ample excuse for
+breaking the pledge to you--simply on the ground of inhumanity."
+
+"War is inhumanity"--said Seaton--"The use of my discovery would be
+no worse than war."
+
+"Granted!--but war makes money for certain sections of the
+community,--you must think of that!" and Gwent's little shrewd eyes
+gleamed like bits of steel.--"Money!--money! Stores--food, clothing-
+-transport--all these things in war mean fortunes to the
+contractors--while the wiping out of a nation in YOUR way would mean
+loss of money. Loss of life wouldn't matter,--it never does really
+matter--not to governments!--but loss of money--ah, well!--that's a
+very different and much more serious affair!"
+
+A cynical smile twisted his features as he spoke, and Roger Seaton,
+standing opposite to him with his fine head well thrown back on his
+shoulders and his whole face alive with the power of thought, looked
+rather like a Viking expostulating with some refractory vassal.
+
+"So you think the United States wouldn't take my 'discovery?'" he
+said--"Or--if they took it--couldn't be trusted to keep a pledged
+word?"
+
+Gwent shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Of course our government could be trusted as much as any other
+government in the world,"--he said--"Perhaps more. But it would
+exonerate itself for breaking even a pledged word which necessitated
+an inhuman act involving loss of money! See? War is an inhuman act,
+but it brings considerable gain to those who engineer it,--this
+makes all the difference between humanity and INhumanity!"
+
+"Well!--you are a senator, and you ought to know!" replied Seaton--
+"And if your opinion is against my offer, I will not urge you to
+make it. But--as I live and stand here talking to you, you may bet
+every dollar you possess that if neither the United States nor any
+other government will accept the chance I give it of holding the
+nations like dogs in leash, I'll hold them myself! I! One single
+unit of the overteeming millions! Yes, Mr. Senator Gwent, I swear
+it! I'll be master of the world!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+Gwent was silent. With methodical care he flicked off the burnt end
+of his cigar and watched it where it fell, as though it were
+something rare and curious. He wanted a few minutes to think. He
+gave a quick upward glance at the tall athletic figure above him,
+with its magnificent head and flashing eyes,--and the words "I'll be
+master of the world" gave him an unpleasant thrill. One man on the
+planet with power to destroy nations seemed quite a fantastic idea--
+yet science made it actually possible! He bethought himself of a
+book he had lately read concerning radio-activity, in which he had
+been struck by the following passage--"Radio-activity is an
+explosion of great violence; the energy exerted is millions of times
+more powerful than the highest explosive substance yet made in our
+laboratories; one bomb loaded with such energy would be equal to
+millions of bombs of the same size and energy as used in the
+trenches. One's mind stands aghast at the thought of what could be
+possible if such power were used for destructive purposes; a single
+aeroplane could carry sufficient to annihilate a whole army, or lay
+the biggest city in ruins with the death of all its inhabitants."
+The writer of the book in question had stated that, so far, no means
+had been found of conserving and concentrating this tremendous force
+for such uses,--but Gwent, looking at Roger Seaton, said within
+himself--"He's got it!" And this impression, urging itself strongly
+in on his brain, was sufficiently startling to give him a touch of
+what is called "nerves."
+
+After a considerably long pause he said, slowly--"Well, 'master of
+the world' is a pretty tall order! Now, look here, Seaton--you're a
+plain, straight man, and so am I, as much as my business will let
+me. What are you after, anyway? What is your aim and end? You say
+you don't want money--yet money is the chief goal of all men's
+ambition. You don't care for fame, though you could have it for the
+lifting of a finger, and I suppose you don't want love--"
+
+Seaton laughed heartily, pushing back with a ruffling hand the thick
+hair from his broad open brow.
+
+"All three propositions are nil to me"--he said--"I suppose it is
+because I can have them for the asking! And what satisfaction is
+there in any one of them? A man only needs one dinner a day, a place
+to sleep in and ordinary clothes to wear--very little money is
+required for the actual necessaries of life--enough can be earned by
+any day-labourer. As for fame--whosoever reads the life of even one
+'famous' man will never be such a fool as to wish for the capricious
+plaudits of a fool-public. And love!--love does not exist--not what
+_I_ call love!"
+
+"Oh! May I have your definition?"
+
+"Why yes!--of course you may! Love, to my thinking, means complete
+harmony between two souls--like two notes that make a perfect chord.
+The man must feel that he can thoroughly trust and reverence the
+woman,--the woman must feel the same towards the man. And the sense
+of 'reverence' is perhaps the best and most binding quality. But
+nowadays what woman will you find worth reverence?--what man so free
+from drink and debauchery as to command it? The human beings of our
+day are often less respectable than the beasts! I can imagine love,-
+-what it might be--what it should be--but till we have a very
+different and more spiritualised world, the thing is impossible."
+
+Again, Gwent was silent for some minutes. Then he said--
+
+"Apparently the spirit of destructiveness is strong in you. As
+'master of the world'--to quote your own words, I presume that in
+the event of a nation or nations deciding on war, you would give
+them a time-limit to consider and hold conference, with their
+allies--and then--if they were resolved to begin hostilities--"
+
+"Then I could--and WOULD--wipe them off the face of the earth in
+twenty-four hours!" said Seaton, calmly--"From nations they should
+become mere dust-heaps! War makes its own dust-heaps, but with
+infinitely more cost and trouble--the way of exit I offer would be
+cheap in comparison!"
+
+Gwent smiled a grim smile.
+
+"Well, I come back to my former question"--he said--"Suppose the
+occasion arose, and you did all this, what pleasure to yourself do
+you foresee?"
+
+"The pleasure of clearing the poor old earth of some of its
+pestilential microbes!"--answered Seaton, "Something of the same
+thankful satisfaction Sir Ronald Ross must have experienced when he
+discovered the mosquito-breeders of yellow fever and malaria, and
+caused them to be stamped out. The men who organise national
+disputes are a sort of mosquito, infecting their fellow-creatures
+with perverted mentality and disease,--they should be exterminated."
+
+"Why not begin with the newspaper offices?" suggested Gwent--"The
+purlieus of cheap journalism are the breeding-places of the human
+malaria-mosquito."
+
+"True! And it wouldn't be a bad idea to stamp them out," here Seaton
+threw back his head with the challenging gesture which was
+characteristic of his temperament--"But what is called 'the liberty
+of the press'(it should be called 'the license of the press') is
+more of an octopus than a mosquito. Cut off one tentacle, it grows
+another. It's entirely octopus in character, too,--it only lives to
+fill its stomach."
+
+"Oh, come, come!" and Gwent's little steely eyes sparkled--"It's the
+'safe-guard of nations' don't you know?--it stands for honest free
+speech, truth, patriotism, justice--"
+
+"Good God!" burst out Seaton, impatiently--"When it does, then the
+'new world' about which men talk so much may get a beginning!
+'Honest free speech--truth!' Why, modern journalism is one GREAT LIE
+advertised on hoardings from one end of the world to the other!"
+
+"I agree!" said Gwent--"And there you have the root and cause of
+war! No need to exterminate nations with your destructive stuff,--
+you should get at the microbes who undermine the nations first. When
+you can do THAT, you will destroy the guilty and spare the
+innocent,--whereas your plan of withering a nation into a dust-heap
+involves the innocent along with the guilty."
+
+"War does that,"--said Seaton, curtly.
+
+"It does. And your aim is to do away with all chance or possibility
+of war for ever. Good! But you need to attack the actual root of the
+evil."
+
+Seaton's brow clouded into a frown.
+
+"You're a careful man, Gwent,"--he said--"And, in the main, you are
+right. I know as well as you do that the license of the press is the
+devil's finger in the caldron of affairs, stirring up strife between
+nations that would probably be excellent friends and allies, if it
+were not for this 'licensed' mischief. But so long as the mob read
+the lies, so long will the liars flourish. And my argument is that
+if any two peoples are so brainless as to be led into war by their
+press, they are not fit to live--no more fit than the mosquitoes
+that once made Panama a graveyard."
+
+Gwent smoked leisurely, regarding his companion with unfeigned
+interest.
+
+"Apparently you haven't much respect for life?" he said.
+
+"Not when it is diseased life--not when it is perverted life;"--
+returned Seaton--"Then it is mere deformity and encumbrance. For
+life itself in all its plenitude, health and beauty I have the
+deepest, most passionate respect. It is the outward ray or reflex of
+the image of God--"
+
+"Stop there!" interrupted Gwent--"You believe in God?"
+
+"I do,--most utterly! That is to say I believe in an all-pervading
+Mind originating and commanding the plan of the Universe. We talk of
+'ions' and 'electrons'--but we are driven to confess that a Supreme
+Intelligence has the creation of electrons, and directs them as to
+the formation of all existing things. To that Mind--to that
+Intelligence--I submit my soul! And I do NOT believe that this
+Supreme Mind desires evil or sorrow,--we create disaster ourselves,
+and it is ourselves that must destroy it, We are given free-will--if
+we 'will' to create disease, we must equally 'will' to exterminate
+it by every means in our power."
+
+"I think I follow you"--said Gwent, slowly--"But now, as regards
+this Supreme Intelligence, I suppose you will admit that the plan of
+creation is a dual sort of scheme--that is to say 'male and female
+created He them'?"
+
+"Why, of course!" and Seaton smiled--"The question is superfluous!"
+
+"I asked it," went on Gwent--"because you seem to eliminate the
+female element from your life altogether. Therefore, so I take it,
+you are not at your full strength, either as a scientist or
+philosopher. You are a kind of eagle, trying to fly high on one
+wing. You'll need the other! There, don't look at me in that savage
+way! I'm merely making my own comments on your position,--you
+needn't mind them. I want to get out of the tangle-up of things you
+have suggested. You fancy it would be easy to get the United States
+Government to purchase your discovery and pledge themselves to use
+it on occasion for the complete wiping out of a nation,--any nation-
+-that decided to go to war,--and, failing their acceptance, or the
+acceptance of any government on these lines, you purpose doing the
+deed yourself. Well!--I can tell you straight away it's no use my
+trying to negotiate such a business, The inhumanity of it is to
+palpable."
+
+"What of the inhumanity of war?" asked Seaton.
+
+"That PAYS!" replied Gwent, with emphasis--"You don't, or won't,
+seem to recognise that blistering fact! The inhumanity of war pays
+everybody concerned in it except the fellows who fight to order.
+They are the 'raw material.' They get used up. YOUR business
+WOULDN'T 'pay.' And what won't 'pay' is no good to anybody in this
+present sort of world."
+
+Seaton, still standing erect, bent his eyes on the lean hard
+features of his companion with eloquent scorn.
+
+"So! Everything must be measured and tested by money!" he said--"And
+yet you senators talk of reform!--of a 'new' world!--of a higher
+code of conduct between man and man--"
+
+"Yes, we talk"--interrupted Gwent--"But we don't mean what we say!--
+we should never think of meaning it!"
+
+"'Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!'" quoted Seaton with passionate
+emphasis.
+
+"Just so! The Lord Christ said it two thousand years ago, and it's
+true to-day! We haven't improved!"
+
+With an impatient movement, Seaton strode to the door of his hut and
+looked out at the wide sky,--then turned back again. Gwent watched
+him critically.
+
+"After all," he said, "It isn't as if you wanted anything of
+anybody. Money is no object of yours. If it were I should advise
+your selling your discovery to Morgana Royal,--she'd buy it--and, I
+tell you what!--SHE'D USE IT!"
+
+"Thanks!" and Seaton nodded curtly--"I can use it myself!"
+
+"True!" And Gwent looked interestedly at his dwindling Havana--"You
+can!" There followed a pause during which Gwent thought of the
+strange predicament in which the world might find itself, under the
+scientific rule of one man who had it in his power to create a
+terrific catastrophe without even "showing his hand." "Anyway,
+Seaton, you surely want to make something out of life for yourself,
+don't you?"
+
+"What IS there to be made out of it?" he asked.
+
+"Well!-happiness--the physical pleasure of living--"
+
+"I AM happy"--declared Seaton--"and I entirely appreciate the
+physical pleasure of living. But I should be happier and better
+pleased with life if I could rid the earth of some of its mischief,
+disease and sorrow--"
+
+"How about leaving that to the Supreme Intelligence?" interposed
+Gwent.
+
+"That's just it! The Supreme Intelligence led me to the discovery I
+have made--and I feel that it has been given into my hands for a
+purpose. Gwent, I am positive that this same Supreme Intelligence
+expects his creature, Man, to help Him in the evolvement and work of
+the Universe! It is the only reasonable cause for Man's existence.
+We must help, not hinder, the scheme of which we are a part. And
+wherever hindrance comes in we are bound to remove and destroy it!"
+
+The last ash of Gwent's cigar fell to the floor, and Gwent himself
+rose from his chair.
+
+"Well, I suppose we've had our talk out"--he said; "I came here
+prepared to offer you a considerable sum for your discovery--but I
+can't go so far as a Government pledge. So I must leave you to it.
+You know"--here he hesitated--"you know a good many people would
+consider you mad--"
+
+Seaton laughed.
+
+"Oh, that goes without saying! Did you ever hear of any scientist
+possessing a secret drawn from the soul of nature that was not
+called 'mad' at once by his compeers and the public? I can stand
+THAT accusation! Pray Heaven I never get as mad as a Wall Street
+gambler!"
+
+"You will, if you gamble with the lives of nations!" said Gwent.
+
+"Let the nations beware how they gamble with their own lives!"
+retorted Seaton--"You say war is a method of money-making--let them
+take heed how they touch money coined in human blood! I--one man
+only,--but an instrument of the Supreme Intelligence,--I say and
+swear there shall be no more wars!"
+
+As he uttered these words there was something almost supernatural in
+the expression of his face--his attitude, proudly erect, offered a
+kind of defiance to the world,--and involuntarily Gwent, looking at
+him, thought of the verse in the Third Psalm--
+
+"I laid me down and slept; I awaked for the Lord sustained me. I
+will not be afraid of ten thousands of the people that have set
+themselves against me round about."
+
+"No--he would not be afraid!" Gwent mused--"He is a man for whom
+there is no such thing as fear! But--if it knew--the world might be
+afraid of HIM!"
+
+Aloud he said--"Well, you may put an end to war, but you will never
+put an end to men's hatred and envy of one another, and if they
+can't 'let the steam off' in fighting, they'll find some other way
+which may be worse. If you come to consider it, all nature is at war
+with itself,--it's a perpetual struggle to live, and it's evident
+that the struggle was intended and ordained as universal law. Life
+would be pretty dull without effort--and effort means war."
+
+"War against what?--against whom?" asked Seaton.
+
+"Against whatever or whoever opposes the effort," replied Gwent,
+promptly--"There must be opposition, otherwise effort would be
+unnecessary. My good fellow, you've got an idea that you can alter
+the fixed plan of things, but you can't. The cleverest of us are
+only like goldfish in a glass bowl--they see the light through, but
+they cannot get to it. The old ship of the world will sail on its
+appointed way to its destined port,--and the happiest creatures are
+those who are content to sail with it in the faith that God is at
+the helm!" He broke off, smiling at his own sudden eloquence, then
+added--"By-the-by, where is your laboratory?"
+
+"Haven't got one!" replied Seaton, briefly.
+
+"What! Haven't got one! Why, how do you make your stuff?"
+
+Seaton laughed.
+
+"You think I'm going to tell you? Mr. Senator Gwent, you take me for
+a greater fool than I am! My 'stuff' needs neither fire nor
+crucible,--the formula was fairly complete before I left Washington,
+but I wanted quiet and solitude to finish what I had begun. It is
+finished now. That's why I sent for you to make the proposition
+which you say you cannot carry through."
+
+"Finished, is it?" queried Gwent, abstractedly--"And you have it
+here?--in a finished state?"
+
+Seaton nodded affirmatively.
+
+"Then I suppose"--said Gwent with a nervous laugh--"you could
+'finish' ME, if it suited your humour?"
+
+"I could, certainly!" and Seaton gave him quite an encouraging
+smile--"I could reduce Mr. Senator Gwent into a small pinch of grey
+dust in about forty seconds, without pain! You wouldn't feel it I
+assure you! It would be too swift for feeling."
+
+"Thanks! Much obliged!" said Gwent--"I won't trouble you this
+morning! I rather enjoy being alive."
+
+"So do I!" declared Seaton, still smiling--"I only state what I
+COULD do."
+
+Gwent stood at the door of the hut and surveyed the scenery.
+
+"You've a fine, wild view here"--he said--"I think I shall stay at
+the Plaza a day or two before returning to Washington. There's a
+very attractive girl there."
+
+"Oh, you mean Manella"--said Seaton, carelessly; "Yes, she's quite a
+beauty. She's the maid, waitress or 'help' of some sort at the
+hotel."
+
+"She's a good 'draw' for male visitors"--said Gwent--"Many a man I
+know would pay a hundred dollars a day to have her wait upon him!"
+
+"Would YOU?" asked Seaton, amused.
+
+"Well!--perhaps not a hundred dollars a day, but pretty near it! Her
+eyes are the finest I've ever seen."
+
+Seaton made no comment.
+
+"You'll come and dine with me to-night, won't you?" went on Gwent--
+"You can spare me an hour or two of your company?"
+
+"No, thanks"--Seaton replied--"Don't think me a churlish brute--but
+I don't like hotels or the people who frequent them. Besides--we've
+done our business."
+
+"Unfortunately there was no business doing!" said Gwent--"Sorry I
+couldn't take it on."
+
+"Don't be sorry! I'll take it on myself when the moment comes. I
+would have preferred the fiat of a great government to that of one
+unauthorised man--but if there's no help for it then the one man
+must act."
+
+Gwent looked at him with a grave intentness which he meant to be
+impressive.
+
+"Seaton, these new scientific discoveries are dangerous tools!" he
+said--"If they are not handled carefully they may work more mischief
+than we dream of. Be on your guard! Why, we might break up the very
+planet we live on, some day!"
+
+"Very possible!" answered Seaton, lightly--"But it wouldn't be
+missed! Come,--I'll walk with you half way down the hill."
+
+He threw on a broad palmetto hat as a shield against the blazing
+sun, for it was now the full heat of the afternoon, while Gwent
+solemnly unfurled a white canvas umbrella which, folded, served him
+on occasion as a walking-stick. A greater contrast could hardly be
+imagined than that afforded by the two men,--the conventionally
+clothed, stiff-jointed Washington senator, and the fine, easy supple
+figure of his roughly garbed companion; and Manella, watching them
+descend the hill from a coign of vantage in the Plaza gardens,
+criticised their appearance in her own special way.
+
+"Poof!" she said to herself, snapping her fingers in air--"He is so
+ugly!--that one man--so dry and yellow and old! But the other--he is
+a god!"
+
+And she snapped her fingers again,--then kissed them towards the
+object of her adoration,--an object as unconscious and indifferent
+as any senseless idol ever worshipped by blind devotees.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+On his return to the Plaza Mr. Sam Gwent tried to get some
+conversation with Manella, but found it difficult. She did not wait
+on the visitors in the dining-room, and Gwent imagined he knew the
+reason why. Her beauty was of too brilliant and riante a type to
+escape the notice and admiration of men, whose open attentions were
+likely to be embarrassing to her, and annoying to her employers. She
+was therefore kept very much out of the way, serving on the upper
+floors, and was only seen flitting up and down the staircase or
+passing through the various corridors and balconies. However, when
+evening fell and its dark, still heat made even the hotel lounge,
+cooled as it was by a fountain in full play, almost unbearable,
+Gwent, strolling forth into the garden, found her there standing
+near a thick hedge of myrtle which exhaled a heavy scent as if every
+leaf were being crushed between invisible fingers. She looked up as
+she saw him approaching and smiled.
+
+"You found your friend well?" she said.
+
+"Very well, indeed!" replied Gwent, promptly--"In fact, I never knew
+he was ill!"
+
+Manella gave her peculiar little uplift of the head which was one of
+her many fascinating gestures.
+
+"He is not ill"--she said--"He only pretends! That is all! He has
+some reason for pretending. I think it is love!"
+
+Gwent laughed.
+
+"Not a bit of it! He's the last man in the world to worry himself
+about love!"
+
+Manella glanced him over with quite a superior air.
+
+"Ah, perhaps you do not know!" And she waved her hands expressively.
+"There was a wonderful lady came here to see him some weeks ago--she
+stole up the hill at night, like a spirit--a little, little fairy
+woman with golden hair--"
+
+Gwent pricked up his ears and stood at attention.
+
+"Yes? Really? You don't say so! 'A little fairy woman'? Sounds like
+a story!"
+
+"She wore the most lovely clothes"--went on Manella, clasping her
+hands in ecstasy--"She stayed at the Plaza one night--I waited upon
+her. I saw her in her bed--she had skin like satin, and eyes like
+blue stars--her hair fell nearly to her ankles--she was like a
+dream! And she went up the hill by moonlight all by herself, to find
+HIM!"
+
+Gwent listened with close interest.
+
+"And I presume she found him?"
+
+Manella nodded, and a sigh escaped her.
+
+"Oh, yes, she found him! He told me that. And I am sure--something
+tells me HERE" and she pressed one hand against her heart--"by the
+way he spoke--that he loves her!"
+
+"You seem to be a very observant young woman," said Gwent, smiling--
+"One would think you were in love with him yourself!"
+
+She raised her large dark eyes to his with perfect frankness.
+
+"I am!" she said--"I see no shame in that! He is a fine man--it is
+good to love him!"
+
+Gwent was completely taken aback. Here was primitive passion with a
+vengeance!--passion which admitted its own craving without
+subterfuge. Manella's eyes were still uplifted in a kind of
+childlike confidence.
+
+"I am happy to love him!" she went on--"I wish only to serve him. He
+does not love ME--oh, no!--he loves HER! But he hates her too--ah!"
+and she gave a little shivering movement of her shoulders--"There is
+no love without hate!--and when one loves and hates with the same
+heart-beat, THAT is a love for life and death!" She checked herself
+abruptly--then with a simplicity which was not without dignity
+added--"I am saying too much, perhaps? But you are his friend--and I
+think he must be very lonely up there!"
+
+Mr. Senator Gwent was perplexed. He had not looked to stumble on a
+romantic episode, yet here was one ready made to his hand. His
+nature was ill attuned to romance of any kind, but he felt a certain
+compassion for this girl, so richly dowered with physical beauty,
+and smitten with love for a man like Roger Seaton who, according to
+his own account, had no belief in love's existence. And the "fairy
+woman" she spoke of--who could that be but Morgana Royal? After his
+recent interview with Seaton his thoughts were rather in a whirl,
+and he sought for a bit of commonplace to which he could fasten them
+without the risk of their drifting into greater confusion. Yet that
+bit of commonplace was hard to find with a woman's lovely passionate
+eyes looking straight into his, and the woman herself, a warm-
+blooded embodiment of exquisite physical beauty, framed like a
+picture among the scented myrtle boughs under the dusky violet sky,
+where glittered a few stars with that large fiery brilliance so
+often seen in California. He coughed--it was a convenient thing to
+cough--it cleared the throat and helped utterance.
+
+"I--I--well!--I hardly think he is lonely"--he said at last,
+hesitatingly--"Perhaps you don't know it--but he's a very clever
+man--an inventor--a great thinker with new ideas--"
+
+He stopped. How could this girl understand him? What would she know
+of "inventors"--and "thinkers with new ideas"? A trifle embarrassed,
+he looked at her. She nodded her dark head and smiled.
+
+"I know!" she said--"He is a god!"
+
+Sam Gwent almost jumped. A god! Oh, these women! Of what fantastic
+exaggerations they are capable!
+
+"A god!" she repeated, nodding again, complacently; "He can do
+anything! I feel that all the time. He could rule the whole world!"
+
+Gwent's nerves "jumped" for the second time. Roger Seaton's own
+words--"I'll be master of the world" knocked repeatingly on his
+brain with an uncomfortable thrill. He gathered up the straying
+threads of his common sense and twisted them into a tough string.
+
+"That's all nonsense!" he said, as gruffly as he could--"He's not a
+god by any means! I'm afraid you think too much of him, Miss--Miss--
+er--"
+
+"Soriso," finished Manella, gently--"Manella Soriso."
+
+"Thank you!" and Gwent sought for a helpful cigar which he lit--"You
+have a very charming name! Yes--believe me, you think too much of
+him!"
+
+"You say that? But--are you not his friend?"
+
+Her tone was reproachful.
+
+But Gwent was now nearly his normal business self again.
+
+"No,--I am scarcely his friend"--he replied--"'Friend' is a big
+word,--it implies more than most men ever mean. I just know him--
+I've met him several times, and I know he worked for a while under
+Edison--and--and that's about all. Then I THINK"--he was cautious
+here--"I THINK I've seen him at the house of a very wealthy lady in
+New York--a Miss Royal--"
+
+"Ah!" exclaimed Manella--"That is the name of the fairy woman who
+came here!"
+
+Gwent went on without heeding her.
+
+"She, too, is very clever,--she is also an inventor and a scientist-
+-and if it was she who came here--(I daresay it was!) it was
+probably because she wished to ask his advice and opinion on some of
+the difficult things she studies--"
+
+Manella snapped her fingers as though they were castanets.
+
+"Ah--bah!" she exclaimed--"Not at all! No difficult thing takes a
+woman out by moonlight, all in soft white and diamonds to see a
+man!--no difficult thing at all, except to tempt him to love! Yes!
+That is the way it is done! I begin to learn! And you, if you are
+not his friend, what are you here for?"
+
+Gwent began to feel impatient with this irrepressible "prize"
+beauty.
+
+"I came to see him at his own request on business;" he answered
+curtly--"The business is concluded and I go away to-morrow."
+
+Manella was silent. The low chirping of a cicada hidden in the
+myrtle thicket made monotonous sweetness on the stillness.
+
+Moved by some sudden instinct which he did not attempt to explain to
+himself, Gwent decided to venture on a little paternal advice.
+
+"Now don't you fly off in a rage at what I'm going to say,"--he
+began, slowly--"You're only a child to me--so I'm just taking the
+liberty of talking to you as a child. Don't give too much of your
+time or your thought to the man you call a 'god.' He's no more a god
+than I am. But I tell you one thing--he's a dangerous customer!"
+
+Manella's great bright eyes opened wide like stars in the darkness.
+
+"Dangerous?--How?--I do not understand---!"
+
+"Dangerous!"--repeated Gwent, shaking his head at her--"Not to you,
+perhaps,--for you probably wouldn't mind if he killed you, so long
+as he kissed you first! Oh, yes, I know the ways of women! God made
+them trusting animals, ready to slave all their lives for the sake
+of a caress. YOU are one of that kind--you'd willingly make a door-
+mat of yourself for Seaton to wipe his boots on. I don't mean that
+he's dangerous in that way, because though _I_ might think him so,
+YOU wouldn't. No,--what I mean is that he's dangerous to himself--
+likely to run risks of his life---"
+
+Here he paused, checked by the sudden terror in the beautiful eyes
+that stared at him.
+
+"His life!" and Manella's voice trembled--"You think he is here to
+kill himself---"
+
+"No, no--bless my soul, he doesn't INTEND to kill himself"--said
+Gwent, testily--"He's not such a fool as all that! Now look here!--
+try and be a sensible girl! The man is busy with an invention--a
+discovery--which might do him harm--I don't say it WILL--but it
+MIGHT. You've heard of bombs, haven't you?--timed to explode at a
+given moment?"
+
+Manella nodded--her lips trembled, and she clasped her hands
+nervously across her bosom.
+
+"Well!--I believe--I won't say it for certain,--that he's got
+something worse than that!" said Gwent, impressively--"And that's
+why he was chosen to live up on that hill in the 'hut of the dying'
+away from everybody. See? And--of course--anything may happen at any
+moment. He's plucky enough, and is not the sort of man to involve
+any other man in trouble--and that's why he stays alone. Now you
+know! So you can put away your romantic notions of his being 'in
+love'! A very good thing for him if he were! It might draw him away
+from his present occupation. In fact, the best that could happen to
+him would be that you should make him fall in love with YOU!"
+
+She gave a little cry.
+
+"With ME?"
+
+"Yes, with you! Why not? Why don't you manage it? A beautiful woman
+like you could win the game in less than a week?"
+
+She shook her head sorrowfully.
+
+"You do not know him!" she said--"But--HE knows!"
+
+"Knows what?"
+
+She gave a despairing little gesture.
+
+"That I love him!"
+
+"Ah! That's a pity!" said Gwent--"Men are curious monsters in their
+love-appetites; they always refuse the offered dish and ask for
+something that isn't in the bill of fare. You should have pretended
+to hate him!"
+
+"I could not pretend THAT!" said Manella, sadly--"But if I could, it
+would not matter. He does not want a woman."
+
+"Oh, doesn't he?" Gwent was amused at her quaint way of putting it.
+"Well, he's the first man I ever heard of, that didn't! That's all
+bunkum, my good girl! Probably he's crying for the moon!"
+
+"What is that?" she asked, wistfully.
+
+"Crying for the moon? Just hankering after what can't be got. Lots
+of men are afflicted that way. But they've been known to give up
+crying and content themselves with something else."
+
+"HE would never content himself!" she said--"If she--the woman that
+came here, is the moon, he will always want her. Even _I_ want her!"
+
+"You?" exclaimed Gwent, amazed.
+
+"Yes! I want to see her again!" A puzzled look contracted her brows.
+"Since she spoke to me I have always thought of her,--I cannot get
+her out of my mind! She just HOLDS me--yes!--in one of her little
+white hands! There are few women like that I think!--women who hold
+the souls of others as prisoners till they choose to let them go!"
+
+Mr. Senator Gwent was fairly nonplussed. This dark-eyed Spanish
+beauty with her romantic notions was almost too much for him. Had he
+met her in a novel he would have derided the author of the book for
+delineating such an impossible character,--but coming in contact
+with her in real life, he was at a loss what to say. Especially as
+he himself was quite aware of the mysterious "hold" exercised by
+Morgana Royal on those whom she chose to influence either near or at
+a distance. After a few seconds of deliberation he answered--
+
+"Yes--I should say there are very few women of that rather
+uncomfortable sort of habit,--the fewer the better, in my opinion.
+Now Miss Manella Soriso, remember what I say to you! Don't think
+about being 'held' by anybody except by a lover and husband! See?
+Play the game! With such looks as God has given you, it should be
+easy! Win your 'god' away from his thunderbolts before he begins
+havoc with them from his miniature Olympus. If he wants the 'moon'
+(and possibly he doesn't!) he won't say no to a star,--it's the next
+best thing. Seriously now,"--and Gwent threw away the end of his
+cigar and laid a hand gently on her arm--"be a good girl and think
+over what I've said to you. Marry him if you can!--it will be the
+making of him!"
+
+Manella gazed about her in the darkness, bewildered. A glittering
+little mob of fire-flies danced above her head like a net of jewels.
+
+"Oh, you talk so strangely!" she said--"You forget!--I am a poor
+girl--I have no money--"
+
+"Neither has he,"--and Gwent gave a short laugh. "But he could make
+a million dollars to-morrow--if he chose. Having only himself to
+consider, he DOESN'T choose! If he had YOU, he'd change his opinion.
+Seaton's not the man to have a wife without keeping her in comfort.
+I tell you again, you can be the making of him. You can save his
+life!"
+
+She clasped her hands nervously. A little gasping sigh came from her
+lips.
+
+"Oh!--Santa Madonna!--to save his life!"
+
+"Ah, just that!" said Gwent impressively--"Think of it! I'm not
+speaking lies--that's not my way. The man is making for himself what
+we in the European war called a 'danger zone,' where everybody not
+'in the know' was warned off hidden mines. Hidden mines! He's got
+them! That's so! You can take my word! It's no good looking for
+them, no one will ever find them but himself, and he thinks of
+nothing else. But if he fell in love with YOU---"
+
+She gave a hopeless gesture.
+
+"He will not--he thinks nothing of me--nothing!--no!--though he says
+I am beautiful!"
+
+"Oh, he says that, does he?" and Gwent smiled--"Well, he'd be a fool
+if he didn't!"
+
+"Ah, but he does not care for beauty!" Manella went on. "He sees it
+and he smiles at it, but it does not move him!"
+
+Gwent looked at her in perplexity, not knowing quite how to deal
+with the subject he himself had started. Truth to tell his nerves
+had been put distinctly "on edge" by Seaton's cool, calculating and
+seemingly callous assertion as to the powers he possessed to
+destroy, if he chose, a nation,--and all sorts of uncomfortable
+scraps of scientific information gleaned from books and treatises
+suggested themselves vividly to his mind at this particular moment
+when he would rather have forgotten them. As, for example--"A pound
+weight of radio-active energy, if it could be extracted in as short
+a time as we pleased, instead of in so many million years, could do
+the work of a hundred and fifty tons of dynamite." This agreeable
+fact stuck in his brain as a bone may stick in a throat, causing a
+sense of congestion. Then the words of one of the "pulpit
+thunderers" of New York rolled back on his ears--"This world will be
+destroyed, not by the hand of God, but by the wilful and devilish
+malingering of Man!" Another pleasant thought! And he felt himself
+to be a poor weak fool to even try to put up a girl's beauty, a
+girl's love as a barrier to the output of a destroying force
+engineered by a terrific human intention,--it was like the old story
+of the Scottish heroine who thrust a slender arm through the great
+staple of a door to hold back the would-be murderers of a King.
+
+"Beauty does not move him!" she said.
+
+She was right. Nothing was likely to move Roger Seaton from any
+purpose he had once resolved upon. What to him was beauty? Merely a
+"fortuitous concourse of atoms" moving for a time in one
+personality. What was a girl? Just the young "female of the
+species"--no more. And love? Sexual attraction, of which there was
+enough and too much in Seaton's opinion. And the puzzled Gwent
+wondered whether after all he would not have acted more wisely--or
+diplomatically--in accepting Seaton's proposal to part with his
+secret to the United States Government, even with the proviso and
+State pledge that it was to be "used" should occasion arise, rather
+than leave him to his own devices to do as he pleased with the
+apparently terrific potentiality of which he alone had the knowledge
+and the mastery. And while his thoughts thus buzzed in his head like
+swarming bees, Manella stood regarding him in a kind of pitiful
+questioning like a child with a broken toy who can not understand
+"why" it is broken. As he did not speak at once she took up the
+thread of conversation.
+
+"You see how it is no use," she said. "No use to think of his ever
+loving ME! But love for HIM--ah!--that I have, and that I will ever
+keep in my heart!--and to save his life I would myself gladly die!"
+
+Gwent uttered a sound between a grunt and a sigh.
+
+"There it is! You women always run to extremes! 'Gladly die' indeed!
+Poor girl, why should you 'die' for him or for any man! That's sheer
+sentimental nonsense! There's not a man that ever lived, or that
+ever will live, that's worth the death of a woman! That's so! Men
+think too much of themselves--they've been killing women ever since
+they were born--it's time they stopped a bit."
+
+Manella's beautiful eyes expressed bewilderment.
+
+"Killing women? Is that what they do?"
+
+"Yes, my good girl!--that is what they do! The silly trusting
+creatures go to them like lambs, and get their throats cut! In
+marriage or out of it--the throat-cutting goes on, for men are made
+of destructive stuff and love the sport of killing. They are never
+satisfied unless they can kill something--a bird, a fox or a woman.
+I'm a man myself and I know!"
+
+"YOU would kill a woman?" Manella's voice was a horrified whisper.
+
+Gwent laughed.
+
+"No,--not I, my child! I'm too old. I've done with love-making and
+'sport' of all kinds. I don't even drive a golf-ball, in make-
+believe that it's a woman I'm hitting as fast and far as I can. Oh,
+yes!--you stare!--you are wondering why, if I have such ideas, I
+should suggest love-making and marriage to YOU,--well, I don't
+actually recommend it!--but I'm rather thinking more of your 'god'
+than of you. You might possibly help him a bit--"
+
+"Ah, I am not clever!" sighed Manella.
+
+"No--you're not clever--thank God for it! But you're devoted--and
+devotion is sometimes more than cleverness." He paused,
+reflectively. "Well, I'll have to go away tomorrow--it wouldn't be
+any use my staying on here. In fact, I'd rather be out of the way.
+But I've a notion I may be able to do something for Seaton in
+Washington when I get back--in the meantime I'll leave a letter for
+you to give him--"
+
+"You will not write of me in that letter!" interrupted the girl,
+hastily. "No--you must not--you could not!---"
+
+Gwent raised a deprecating hand.
+
+"Don't be afraid, my girl! I'm not a cad. I wouldn't give you away
+for the world! I've no right to say a word about you, and I shall
+not. My letter will be a merely business one--you shall read it if
+you like---"
+
+"Oh no!"--she said at once, with proud frankness; "I would not doubt
+your word!"
+
+Gwent gave her a comprehensively admiring glance. Even in the dusk
+of evening her beauty shone with the brilliance of a white flower
+among the dark foliage. "What a sensation she would make in New
+York!" he thought--"With those glorious eyes and that hair!"
+
+And a vague regret for his lost youth moved him; he was a very
+wealthy man, and had he been in his prime he would have tried a
+matrimonial chance with this unspoilt beautiful creature,--it would
+have pleased him to robe her in queenly garments and to set the
+finest diamonds in her dark tresses, so that she should be the
+wonder and envy of all beholders. He answered her last remark with a
+kindly little nod and smile.
+
+"Good! You needn't doubt it ever!"--he said--"If at any time you
+want a friend you can bet on Sam Gwent. I'm a member of Congress and
+you can always find me easily. But remember my advice--don't make a
+'god' of any man;--he can't live up to it---"
+
+As he spoke a sudden jagged flash of lightning tore the sky,
+followed almost instantaneously by a long, low snarl of thunder
+rolling through the valley. Great drops of rain began to fall.
+
+"Come along! Let us get in!" and Gwent caught Manella's hand--"Run!"
+
+And like children they ran together through the garden into the
+Plaza lounge, reaching it just before a second lightning flash and
+peal of thunder renewed double emphasis.
+
+"Storm!" observed a long-faced invalid man in a rocking-chair,
+looking at them as they hurried in.
+
+"Yes! Storm it is!" responded Gwent, releasing the hand of his
+companion--"Good-night, Miss Soriso!"
+
+She inclined her head graceful, smiling.
+
+"Good-night, Senor!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+Convention is still occasionally studied even in these
+unconventional days, and Morgana Royal, independent and wealthy
+young woman as she was, had subscribed to its rule and ordinance by
+engaging a chaperone,--a "dear old English lady of title," as she
+had described her to the Marchese Rivardi. Lady Kingswood merited
+the description thus given of her, for she was distinctly a dear old
+English lady, and her title was the least thing about her,
+especially in her own opinion. There was no taint of snobbery in her
+simple, kindly disposition, and when her late husband, a
+distinguished military officer, had been knighted for special and
+splendid service in the war, she had only deplored that the ruin of
+his health and disablement by wounds, prevented him from taking any
+personal pleasure in the "honour." His death followed soon after the
+King's recognition of his merit, and she was left with his pension
+to live upon, and a daughter who having married in haste repented at
+leisure, being deserted by a drunken husband and left with two small
+children to nourish and educate. Naturally, Lady Kingswood took much
+of their care upon herself--but the pension of a war widow will not
+stretch further than a given point, and she found it both necessary
+and urgent to think of some means by which she could augment her
+slender income. She was not a clever woman,--she had no special
+talents,--her eyes would not stand her in good stead for plain
+sewing, and she could not even manage a typing machine. But she had
+exquisitely gentle manners,--she was well-bred and tactful, and,
+rightly judging that good-breeding and tact are valuable assets in
+some quarters of the "new" society, she sought, through various
+private channels, for a post as companion or "chaperone" to "one
+lady." Just when she was rather losing hope as to the success of her
+effort, the "one lady" came along in the elfin personality of
+Morgana Royal, who, after a brief interview in London, selected her
+with a decision as rapid as it was inexplicable, offering her a
+salary of five hundred a year, which to Lady Kingswood was a small
+fortune.
+
+"You will have nothing to do but just be pleasant!" Morgana had told
+her, smilingly, "And enjoy your self as you like. Of course I do not
+expect to be controlled or questioned,--I am an independent woman,
+and go my own way, but I'm not at all 'modern.' I don't drink or
+smoke or 'dope,' or crave for male society. I think you'll find
+yourself all right!"
+
+And Lady Kingswood had indeed "found herself all right." Her own
+daughter had never been so thoughtful for her comfort as Morgana
+was, and she became day by day more interested and fascinated by the
+original turn of mind and the bewitching personality of the strange
+little creature for whom the ordinary amusements of society seemed
+to have no attraction. And now, installed in her own sumptuously
+fitted rooms in the Palazzo d'Oro, Morgana's Sicilian paradise, she
+almost forgot there was such a thing as poverty, or the sordid
+business of "making both ends meet." Walking up and down the rose-
+marble loggia and looking out to the exquisite blue of the sea, she
+inwardly thanked God for all His mercies, and wondered at the
+exceptional good luck that had brought her so much peace, combined
+with comfort and luxury in the evening of her days. She was a
+handsome old lady; her refined features, soft blue eyes and white
+hair were a "composition" for an eighteenth-century French
+miniature, and her dress combined quiet elegance with careful taste.
+She was inflexibly loyal to her stated position; she neither
+"questioned" nor "controlled" Morgana, or attempted to intrude an
+opinion as to her actions or movements,--and if, as was only
+natural, she felt a certain curiosity concerning the aims and doings
+of so brilliant and witch-like a personality she showed no sign of
+it. She was interested in the Marchese Rivardi, but still more so in
+the priest, Don Aloysius, to whom she felt singularly attracted,
+partly by his own dignified appearance and manner, and partly by the
+leaning she herself had towards the Catholic Faith where "Woman" is
+made sacred in the person of the Holy Virgin, and deemed worthy of
+making intercession with the Divine. She knew, as we all in our
+innermost souls know, that it is a symbol of the greatest truth that
+can ever be taught to humanity.
+
+The special morning on which she walked, leaning slightly on a
+silver-knobbed stick, up and down the loggia and looked at the sea,
+was one of rare beauty even in Sicily, the sky being of that pure
+ethereal blue for which one can hardly find a comparison in colour,
+and the ocean below reflecting it, tone for tone, as in a mirror. In
+the terraced garden, half lost among the intertwining blossoms,
+Morgana moved to and fro, gathering roses,--her little figure like a
+white rose itself set in among the green leaves. Lady Kingswood
+watched her, with kindly, half compassionate eyes.
+
+"It must be a terrible responsibility for her to have so much
+money!" she thought. "She can hardly know what to do with it! And
+somehow--I do not think she will marry."
+
+At that moment Morgana came slowly up the steps cut in the grass
+bordered on either side by flowers, and approached her.
+
+"Here are some roses for you, dear 'Duchess!'" she said, "Duchess"
+being the familiar or "pet" name she elected to call her by.
+"Specially selected, I assure you! Are you tired?--or may I have a
+talk?"
+
+Lady Kingswood took the roses with a smile, touching Morgana's cheek
+playfully with one of the paler pink buds.
+
+"A talk by all means!" she replied--"How can I be tired, dear child?
+I'm a lazy old woman, doing nothing all day but enjoy myself!"
+
+Morgana nodded her golden head approvingly.
+
+"That's right!--I'm glad!" she said. "That's what I want you to do!
+It's a pretty place, this Palazzo d'Oro, don't you think?"
+
+"More than pretty--it's a perfect paradise!" declared Lady
+Kingswood, emphatically.
+
+"Well, I'm glad you like it"--went on Morgana--"Because then you
+won't mind staying here and looking after it when I'm away. I'll
+have to go away quite soon."
+
+Lady Kingswood controlled her first instinctive movement of
+surprise.
+
+"Really?" she said--"That seems a pity as you only arrived so
+recently--"
+
+Morgana gave a wistful glance round her at the beautiful gardens and
+blue sea beyond.
+
+"Yes--perhaps it is a pity!" she said, with a light shrug of her
+shoulders--"But I have a great deal to do, and ever so much to
+learn. I told you, didn't I?--that I have had an air-ship built for
+me quite on my own lines?--an air-ship that moves like a bird and is
+quite different from any other air-ship ever made or known?"
+
+"Yes, you told me something about it"--answered Lady Kingswood--"But
+you know, my dear, I am very stupid about all these wonderful new
+inventions. 'Progress of science' they call it. Well, I'm rather
+afraid of the 'progress of science.' I'm an old-fashioned woman and
+I cannot bear to hear of aeroplanes and air-ships and poor wretched
+people falling from the sky and being dashed to pieces. The solid
+earth is quite good enough for my old feet as long as they will
+support me!"
+
+Morgana laughed.
+
+"You dear Duchess!" she said, affectionately--"Don't worry! I'm not
+going to ask you to travel in my air-ship--I wouldn't so try your
+nerves for the world! Though it is an absolutely safe ship,--
+nothing"--and she emphasised the word--"NOTHING can upset it or
+drive it out of its course unless natural law is itself upset! Now
+let us sit here"--and she drew two wicker chairs into the cool
+shadow of the loggia and set them facing the sea--"and have our
+talk! I've begun it--I'll go on! Tell me"--and she nestled down
+among the cushions, watching Lady Kingswood seat herself in slower,
+less supple fashion--"tell me--what does it feel like to be
+married?"
+
+Lady Kingswood opened her eyes, surprised and amused.
+
+"What does it feel like? My dear--?"
+
+"Oh, surely you know what I mean!" pursued Morgana--"YOU have been
+married. Well, when you were first married were you very, very
+happy? Did your husband love you entirely without a thought for
+anybody or anything else?--and were you all in all to each other?"
+
+Lady Kingswood was quite taken aback by the personal directness of
+these questions, but deciding within herself that Morgana must be
+contemplating marriage on her own behalf, answered simply and
+truthfully--
+
+"My husband and I were very fond of each other. We were the best of
+friends and good companions. Of course he had his military duties to
+attend to and was often absent--"
+
+"And you stayed at home and kept house,"--interpolated Morgana,
+musingly--"I see! That is what all wives have to do! But I suppose
+he just adored you?"
+
+Lady Kingswood smiled.
+
+"'Adore' is a very strong word to use, my dear!" she said--"I doubt
+if any married people 'adore' each other! If they can be good
+friends and rub along pleasantly through all the sorrows and joys of
+life together, they should be satisfied."
+
+"And you call that LOVE!" said Morgana, with a passionate thrill in
+her voice--"Love! 'Love that is blood within the veins of time!'
+Just 'rubbing along pleasantly together!' Dear 'Duchess,' that
+wouldn't suit ME!"
+
+Lady Kingswood looked at her with interested, kind eyes.
+
+"But then, what WOULD suit you?" she queried--"You know you mustn't
+expect the impossible!"
+
+"What the world calls the impossible is always the possible"--said
+Morgana--"And only the impossible appeals to me!"
+
+This was going beyond the boundary-line of Lady Kingswood's brain
+capacity, so she merely remained agreeably quiescent.
+
+"And when your child was born"--pursued Morgana--"did you feel a
+wonderful ecstasy?--a beautiful peace and joy?--a love so great that
+it was as if God had given you something of His Own to hold and
+keep?"
+
+Lady Kingswood laughed outright.
+
+"My dear girl, you are too idealistic! Having a baby is not at all a
+romantic business!--quite the reverse! And babies are not
+interesting till they 'begin to take notice' as the nurses say. Then
+when they get older and have to go to school you soon find out that
+you have loved THEM far more than they have loved or ever WILL love
+YOU!"
+
+As she said this her voice trembled a little and she sighed.
+
+"I see! I think I quite understand!" said Morgana--"And it is just
+what I have always imagined--there is no great happiness in
+marriage. If it is only a matter of 'rubbing along pleasantly
+together' two friends can always do that without any 'sex'
+attraction, or tying themselves up together for life. And it's not
+much joy to bring children into the world and waste treasures of
+love on them, if after you have done all you can, they leave you
+without a regret,--like the birds that fly from a nest when once
+they know how to use their wings."
+
+Lady Kingswood's eyes were sorrowful.
+
+"My daughter was a very pretty girl,"--she said--"Her father and I
+were proud of her looks and her charm of manner. We spared every
+shilling we could to give her the best and most careful education--
+and we surrounded her with as much pleasure and comfort at home as
+possible,--but at the first experience of 'society,' and the
+flattery of strangers, she left us. Her choice of a husband was most
+unfortunate--but she would not listen to our advice, though we had
+loved her so much--she thought 'he' loved her more."
+
+Morgana lifted her eyes. The "fey" light was glittering in them.
+
+"Yes! She thought he loved her! That's what many a woman thinks--
+that 'he'--the particular 'he' loves her! But how seldom he does!
+How much more often he loves himself!"
+
+"You must not be cynical, my dear!" said Lady Kingswood, gently--
+"Life is certainly full of disappointments, especially in love and
+marriage--but we must endure our sorrows patiently and believe that
+God does everything for the best."
+
+This was the usual panacea which the excellent lady offered for all
+troubles, and Morgana smiled.
+
+"Yes!--it must be hard work for God!" she said--"Cruel work! To do
+everything for the best and to find it being turned into the worst
+by the very creatures one seeks to benefit, must be positive
+torture! Well, dear 'Duchess,' I asked you all these questions about
+love and marriage just to know if you could say anything that might
+alter my views--but you have confirmed them. I feel that there is no
+such thing in the world as the love _I_ want--and marriage without
+it would be worse than any imagined hell. So I shall not marry."
+
+Lady Kingswood's face expressed a mild tolerance.
+
+"You say that just now"--she said--"But I think you will alter your
+mind some day! You would not like to be quite alone always--not even
+in the Palazzo d'Oro."
+
+"YOU are quite alone?"
+
+"Ah, but I am an old woman, my dear! I have lived my day!"
+
+"That's not true," said Morgana, decisively--"You have not 'lived
+your day' since you are living NOW! And if you are old, that is just
+a reason why you should NOT be alone. But you ARE. Your husband is
+dead, and your daughter has other ties. So even marriage left you
+high and dry on the rocks as it were till my little boat came along
+and took you off them!"
+
+"A very welcome little boat!" said Lady Kingswood, with feeling--"A
+rescue in the nick of time!"
+
+"Never mind that!" and Morgan waved her pretty hand expressively--
+"My point is that marriage--just marriage--has not done much for
+you. It is what women clamour for, and scheme for,--and nine out of
+ten regret the whole business when they have had their way. There
+are so many more things in life worth winning!"
+
+Lady Kingswood looked at her interestedly. She made a pretty picture
+just then in her white morning gown, seated in a low basket chair
+with pale blue silk cushions behind her on which her golden head
+rested with the brightness of a daffodil.
+
+"So many more things!" she repeated--"My air-ship for instance!--
+it's worth all the men and all the marriages I've ever heard of! My
+beloved 'White Eagle!'--my own creation--my baby--SUCH a baby!" She
+laughed. "But I must learn to fly with it alone!"
+
+"I hope you will do nothing rash!"--said Lady Kingswood, mildly; she
+was very ignorant of modern discovery and invention, and all attempt
+to explain anything of the kind to her would have been a hope less
+business--"I understand that it is always necessary to take a pilot
+and an observer in these terrible sky-machines--"
+
+She was interrupted by a gay little peal of laughter from Morgana.
+
+"Terrible?--Oh, dear 'Duchess,' you are too funny! There's nothing
+'terrible' about MY 'sky-machine!' Do you ever read poetry? No?--
+Well then you don't know that lovely and prophetic line of Keats--"
+
+    'Beautiful things made new
+     For the surprise of the sky-children.'
+
+"Poets are always prophetic,--that is, REAL poets, not modern verse
+mongers; and I fancy Keats must have imagined something in the far
+distant future like my 'White Eagle!' For it really IS 'a beautiful
+thing made new'--a beautiful natural force put to new uses--and who
+knows?--I may yet surprise those 'sky-children!'"
+
+Lady Kingswood's mind floundered helplessly in this flood of what,
+to her, was incomprehensibility. Morgana went on in the sweet
+fluting voice which was one of her special charms.
+
+"If you haven't read Keats, you must have read at some time or other
+the 'Arabian Nights' and the story of 'Sindbad the Sailor'? Yes? You
+think you have? Well, you know how poor Sindbad got into the Valley
+of Diamonds and waited for an eagle to fly down and carry him off!
+That's just like me! I've been dropped into a Valley of Diamonds and
+often wondered how I should escape--but the Eagle has arrived!"
+
+"I'm afraid I don't quite follow you"--said Lady Kingswood--"I'm
+rather dense, you know! Surely your Valley of Diamonds--if you mean
+wealth--has made your 'Eagle' possible?"
+
+Morgana nodded.
+
+"Exactly! If there had been no Valley of Diamonds there would have
+been no Eagle! But, all the same, this little female Sindbad is glad
+to get out of the valley!"
+
+Lady Kingswood laughed.
+
+"My dear child, if you are making a sort of allegory on your wealth,
+you are not 'out of the valley' nor are you likely to be!"
+
+Morgana sighed.
+
+"My vulgar wealth!" she murmured.
+
+"What? Vulgar?"
+
+"Yes. A man told me it was."
+
+"A vulgar man himself, I should imagine!" said Lady Kingswood,
+warmly.
+
+Morgana shrugged her shoulders carelessly.
+
+"Oh, no, he isn't. He's eccentric, but not vulgar. He's aristocratic
+to the tips of his toes--and English. That accounts for his
+rudeness. Sometimes, you know--only sometimes--Englishmen can be
+VERY rude! But I'd rather have them so--it's a sort of well-bred
+clumsiness, like the manners of a Newfoundland dog. It's not the
+'make-a-dollar' air of American men."
+
+"You are quite English yourself, aren't you?" queried her companion.
+
+"No--not English in any sense. I'm pure Celtic of Celt, from the
+farthest Highlands of Scotland. But I hate to say I'm 'Scotch,' as
+slangy people use that word for whisky! I'm just Highland-born. My
+father and mother were the same, and I came to life a wild moor,
+among mists and mountains and stormy seas--I'm always glad of that!
+I'm glad my eyes did not look their first on a city! There's a
+tradition in the part of Scotland where I was born which tells of a
+history far far back in time when sailors from Phoenicia came to our
+shores,--men greatly civilised when we all were but savages, and
+they made love to the Highland women and had children by them,--then
+when they went away back to Egypt they left many traces of Eastern
+customs and habits which remain to this day. My father used always
+to say that he could count his ancestry back to Egypt!--it pleased
+him to think so and it did nobody any harm!"
+
+"Have you ever been to the East?" asked Lady Kingswood.
+
+"No--but I'm going! My 'White Eagle' will take me there in a very
+short time! But, as I've already told you, I must learn to fly
+alone."
+
+"What does the Marchese Rivardi say to that?"
+
+"I don't ask him!" replied Morgana, indifferently--"What I may
+decide to do is not his business." She broke off abruptly--then
+continued--"He is coming to luncheon,--and afterwards you shall see
+my air-ship. I won't persuade you to go up in it!"
+
+"I COULDN'T!" said Lady Kingswood, emphatically--"I've no nerve for
+such an adventure."
+
+Morgana rose from her chair, smiling kindly.
+
+"Dear 'Duchess' be quite easy in your mind!" she said--"I want you
+very much on land, but I shall not want you in the air! You will be
+quite safe and happy here in the Palazzo d'Oro"--she turned as she
+saw the shadow of a man's tall figure fall on the smooth marble
+pavement of the loggia--"Ah! Here is the Marchese! We were just
+speaking of you!"
+
+"Tropp' onore!" he murmured, as he kissed the little hand she held
+out to him in the Sicilian fashion of gallantry--"I fear I am
+perhaps too early?"
+
+"Oh no! We were about to go in to luncheon--I know the hour by the
+bell of the monastery down there--you hear it?"
+
+A soft "ting-ting tong"--rang from the olive and ilex woods below
+the Palazzo,--and Morgana, listening, smiled.
+
+"Poor Don Aloysius!" she said--"He will now go to his soup maigre--
+and we to our poulet, sauce bechamel,--and he will be quite as
+contented as we are!"
+
+"More so, probably!" said Rivardi, as he courteously assisted Lady
+Kingswood, who was slightly lame, to rise from her chair--"He is one
+of the few men who in life have found peace,"
+
+Morgana gave him a keen glance.
+
+"You think he has really found it?"
+
+"I think so,--yes! He has faith in God--a great support that has
+given way for most of the peoples of this world."
+
+Lady Kingswood looked pained.
+
+"I am sorry to hear you say that!"
+
+"I am sorry myself to say it, miladi, but I fear it is true!" he
+rejoined--"It is one sign of a general break-up."
+
+"Oh, you are right! You are very right!" exclaimed Morgana suddenly,
+and with emphasis--"We know that when even one human being is unable
+to recognise his best friend we say--'Poor man! His brain is gone!'
+It's the same thing with a nation. Or a world! When it is so ailing
+that it cannot recognise the Friend who brought it into being, who
+feeds it, keeps it, and gives it all it has, we must say the same
+thing--'Its brain is gone!'"
+
+Rivardi was surprised at the passionate energy she threw into these
+words.
+
+"You feel that deeply?" he said--"And yet--pardon me!--you do not
+assume to be religious?"
+
+"Marchese, I 'assume' nothing!" she answered--"I cannot 'pretend'!
+To 'assume' or to 'pretend' would hardly serve the Creator
+adequately. Creative or Natural Force is so far away from sham that
+one must do more than 'assume'--one must BE!"
+
+Her voice thrilled on the air, and Lady Kingswood, who was crossing
+the loggia, leaning on her stick, paused to look at the eloquent
+speaker. She was worth looking at just then, for she seemed
+inspired. Her eyes were extraordinarily brilliant, and her whole
+personality expressed a singular vitality coupled with an ethereal
+grace that suggested some thing almost superhuman.
+
+"Yes--one must be!" she repeated--"I have not BEEN A STUDENT OF
+SCIENCE SO LONG WITHOUT LEARNING that there is no 'assuming'
+anything in the universe. One must SEE straight, and THINK straight
+too! I could not 'assume' religion, because I FEEL it--in the very
+depths of my soul! As Don Aloysius said the other day, it is
+marvellous how close we are to the Source of all life, and yet we
+imagine we are far away! If we could only realise the truth of the
+Divine Nearness, and work WITH it and IN it, we should make
+discoveries worth knowing! We work too much WITH ourselves and OF
+ourselves." She paused,--then added slowly and seriously--"I have
+never done any work that way. I have always considered myself
+Nothing,--the Force I have obeyed was and is Everything."
+
+"And so--being Nothing--you still made your air-ship possible!" said
+Rivardi, smiling indulgently at her fantastic speech.
+
+She answered him with unmoved and patient gravity.
+
+"It is as you say,--being Nothing myself, and owning myself to be
+Nothing; the Force that is Everything made my air-ship possible!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+Two or three hours later the "White Eagle" was high in air above the
+Palazzo d'Oro. Down below Lady Kingswood stood on the seashore by
+the aerodrome, watching the wonderful ship of the sky with dazzled,
+scared eyes--amazed at the lightning speed of its ascent and the
+steadiness of its level flight. She had seen it spread its great
+wings as by self-volition and soar out of the aerodrome with Morgana
+seated inside like an elfin queen in a fairy car--she had seen the
+Marchese Giulio Rivardi "take the helm" with the assistant Gaspard,
+now no longer a prey to fear, beside him. Up, up and away they had
+flown, waving to her till she could see their forms no longer--till
+the "White Eagle" itself looked no bigger than a dove soaring in the
+blue. And while she waited, even this faint dove-image vanished! She
+looked in every direction, but the skies were empty. To her there
+was something very terrifying in this complete disappearance of
+human beings in the vast stretches of the air--they had gone so
+silently, too, for the "White Eagle's" flight made no sound, and
+though the afternoon was warm and balmy she felt chilled with the
+cold of nervous apprehension. Yet they had all assured her there was
+no cause for alarm,--they were only going on a short trial trip and
+would be back to dinner.
+
+"Nothing more than a run in a motor-car!" Morgana said, gaily.
+
+Nothing more,--but to Lady Kingswood it seemed much more. She
+belonged to simple Victorian days--days of quiet home-life and home
+affections, now voted "deadly dull!" and all the rushing to and fro
+and gadding about of modern men and women worried and distressed
+her, for she had the plain common sense to perceive that it did no
+good either to health or morals, and led nowhere. She looked
+wistfully out to sea,--the blue Sicilian sea so exquisite in tone
+and play of pure reflections,--and thought how happy a life lived
+after the old sweet ways might be for a brilliant little creature
+like Morgana, if she could win "a good man's love" as Shakespeare
+puts it. And yet--was not this rather harking back to mere
+sentiment, often proved delusive? Her own "good man's love" had been
+very precious to her,--but it had not fulfilled all her heart's
+longing, though she considered herself an entirely commonplace
+woman. And what sort of a man would it be that could hold Morgana?
+As well try to control a sunbeam or a lightning flash as the
+restless vital and intellectual spirit that had, for the time being,
+entered into feminine form, showing itself nevertheless as something
+utterly different and superior to women as they are generally known.
+Some thoughts such as these, though vague and disconnected, passed
+through Lady Kingswood's mind as she turned away from the sea-shore
+to re-ascend the flower-bordered terraces of the Palazzo d'Oro,--and
+it was with real pleasure that she perceived on the summit of the
+last flight of grassy steps, the figure of Don Aloysius. He was
+awaiting her approach, and came down a little way to meet her.
+
+"I saw the air-ship flying over the monastery,"--he explained,
+greeting her--"And I was anxious to know whether la Signora had gone
+away into the skies or was still on earth! She has gone, I suppose?"
+
+"Yes, she has gone!" sighed Lady Kingswood--"and the Marchese with
+her, and one assistant. Her 'nerve' is simply astonishing!"
+
+"You did not think of venturing on a trip with her yourself?"--and
+the priest smiled kindly, as he assisted her to ascend the last
+flight of steps to the loggia.
+
+"No indeed! I really could not! I feel I ought to be braver--but I
+cannot summon up sufficient courage to leave terra firma. It seems
+altogether unnatural."
+
+"Then what will you do when you are an angel, dear lady?" queried
+Aloysius, playfully--"You will have to leave terra firma then! Have
+you ever thought of that?"
+
+She smiled.
+
+"I'm afraid I don't think!" she said--"I take my life on trust. I
+always believe that God who brought me HERE will take care of me
+THERE!--wherever 'there' is. You understand me, don't you? You speak
+English so well that I'm sure you do."
+
+"Yes--I understand you perfectly"--he replied--"That I speak English
+is quite natural, for I was educated at Stonyhurst, in England. I
+was then for a time at Fort Augustus in Scotland, and studied a
+great many of the strange traditions of the Highland Celts, to which
+mystic people Miss Royal by birth belongs. Her ancestry has a good
+deal to do with her courage and character."
+
+While he spoke Lady Kingswood gazed anxiously into the sky,
+searching it north, south, east, west, for the first glimpse of the
+returning "White Eagle," but there was no sign of it.
+
+"You must not worry yourself,"--went on the priest, putting a chair
+for her in the loggia, and taking one himself--"If we sit here we
+shall see the air-ship returning, I fancy, by the western line,--
+certainly near the sunset. In any case let me assure you there is no
+danger!" "No danger?"
+
+"Absolutely none!"
+
+Lady Kingswood looked at him in bewildered amazement.
+
+"Surely there MUST be danger?" she said--"The terrible accidents
+that happen every day to these flying machines--"
+
+"Yes--but you speak of ordinary flying machines," said Aloysius,--
+"This 'White Eagle' is not an ordinary thing. It is the only one of
+its kind in the world--the only one scientifically devised to work
+with the laws of Nature. You saw it ascend?"
+
+"I did."
+
+"It made no sound?"
+
+"None."
+
+"Then how did its engines move, if it HAD engines?" pursued
+Aloysius--"Had you no curiosity about it?"
+
+"I'm afraid I hadn't--I was really too nervous! Morgana begged me to
+go inside, but I could not!"
+
+Don Aloysius was silent for a minute or two, out of gentle
+tolerance. He recognised that Lady Kingswood belonged to the
+ordinary class of good, kindly women not overburdened with brains,
+to whom thought, particularly of a scientific or reflective nature,
+would be a kind of physical suffering. And how fortunate it is that
+there are, and always will be such women! Many of them are gifted
+with the supreme talent of making happiness around themselves,--and
+in this way they benefit humanity more than the often too self-
+absorbed student of things which are frequently "past finding out."
+
+"I understand your feeling";--he said, at last--"And I hardly wonder
+at your very natural fears. I must admit that I think human daring
+is going too fast and too far--the science of to-day is not tending
+to make men and women happier--and after all, happiness is the great
+goal."
+
+A slight sigh escaped him, and Lady Kingswood looked at his fine,
+composed features with deep interest.
+
+"Do you think God meant us to be happy?" she asked, gently.
+
+"It is a dubious question!" he answered--"When we view the majesty
+and loveliness of nature--we cannot but believe we were intended to
+enjoy the splendid treasures of beauty freely spread out before us,-
+-then again, if we look back thousands of years and consider the
+great civilisations of the past that have withered into dust and are
+now forgotten, we cannot help wondering why there should be such a
+waste of life for apparently no purpose. I speak in a secular
+sense,--of course my Church has but one reply to doubt, or what we
+call 'despair of God's mercy'--that it is sin. We are not permitted
+to criticise or to question the Divine."
+
+"And surely that is best!" said Lady Kingswood, "and surely you have
+found happiness, or what is nearest to happiness, in your beautiful
+Faith?"
+
+His eyes were shadowed by deep gravity.
+
+"Miladi, I have never sought happiness," he replied; "From my
+earliest boyhood I felt it was not for me. Among the comrades of my
+youth many started the race of life with me--happiness was the
+winning post they had in view--and they tried many ways to reach it-
+-some through ambition, some through wealth, some through love--but
+I have never chanced to meet one of them who was either happy or
+satisfied. MY mind was set on nothing for myself--except this--to
+grope through the darkness for the Great Mind behind the Universe--
+to drop my own 'ego' into it, as a drop of rain into the sea--and
+so--to be content! And in this way I have learned much,--more than I
+consider myself worthy to know. Modern science of the surface kind--
+(not the true deep discoveries)--has done its best to detach the
+rain-drop from the sea!--but it has failed. I stay where I have
+plunged my soul!"
+
+He spoke as it were to himself with the air of one inspired; he had
+almost forgotten the presence of Lady Kingswood, who was gazing at
+him in a rapture of attention.
+
+"Oh, if I could only think as you do!" she said, in a low tone--"Is
+it truly the Catholic Church that teaches these things?"
+
+"The Catholic Church is the sign and watchword of all these things!"
+he answered--"Not only that, but its sacred symbols, though ancient
+enough to have been adopted from Babylonia and Chaldea, are actually
+the symbols of our most modern science. Catholicism itself does not
+as yet recognise this. Like a blind child stumbling towards the
+light it has FELT the discoveries of science long before discovery.
+In our sacraments there are the hints of the transmutation of
+elements,--the 'Sanctus' bell suggests wireless telegraphy or
+telepathy, that is to say, communication between ourselves and the
+divine Unseen,--and if we are permitted to go deeper, we shall
+unravel the mystery of that 'rising from the dead' which means
+renewed life. I am a 'prejudiced' priest, of course,"--and he
+smiled, gravely--"but with all its mistakes, errors, crimes (if you
+will) that it is answerable for since its institution, through the
+sins of unworthy servants, Catholicism is the only creed with the
+true seed of spiritual life within it--the only creed left standing
+on a firm foundation in this shaking world!"
+
+He uttered these words with passionate eloquence and added--
+
+"There are only three things that can make a nation great,--the love
+of God, the truth of man, the purity of woman. Without these three
+the greatest civilisation existing must perish,--no matter how wide
+its power or how vast its wealth. Ignorant or vulgar persons may
+sneer at this as 'the obvious'--but it is the 'obvious' sun alone
+that rules the day."
+
+Lady Kingswood's lips trembled; there were tears in her eyes.
+
+"How truly you speak!" she murmured--"And yet we live in a time when
+such truths appear to have no influence with people at all. Every
+one is bent on pleasure--on self--"
+
+"As every one was in the 'Cities of the Plain,'"--he said, "and we
+may well expect another rain of fire!"
+
+Here, lifting his eyes, he saw in the soft blush rose of the
+approaching sunset a small object like a white bird flying homeward
+across the sea.
+
+"Here it comes!" he exclaimed--"Not the rain of fire, but something
+more agreeable! I told you, did I not, miladi, that there was no
+danger? See!"
+
+Lady Kingswood looked where he pointed.
+
+"Surely that is not the air-ship?" she said--"It is too small!"
+
+"At this distance it is small"--answered Aloysius--"But wait!
+Watch,--and you will soon perceive Its great wings! What a
+marvellous thing it is! Marvellous!--and a woman's work!"
+
+They stood together, gazing into the reddening west, thrilled with
+expectancy,--while with a steady swiftness and accuracy of movement
+the bird-like object which at the first glimpse had seemed so small
+gradually loomed larger with nearer vision, its enormous wings
+spreading wide and beating the air rhythmically as though the true
+pulsation of life impelled their action. Neither Lady Kingswood nor
+Don Aloysius exchanged a word, so absorbed were they in watching the
+"White Eagle" arrive, and not till it began to descend towards the
+shore did they relax their attention and turn to each other with
+looks of admiration and amazement.
+
+"How long have they been gone?" asked Aloysius then.
+
+Lady Kingswood glanced at her watch.
+
+"Barely two hours."
+
+At that moment the "White Eagle" swooped suddenly over the gardens,
+noiselessly and with an enormous spread of wing that was like a
+white cloud in the sky--then gracefully swerved aside towards its
+"shed" or aerodrome, folding its huge pinions as of its own will and
+sliding into its quarters as easily as a hand may slide into a
+loose-fitting glove. The two interested watchers of its descent and
+swift "run home" had no time to exchange more than a few words of
+comment before Morgana ran lightly up the terrace, calling to them
+with all the gaiety of a child returning on a holiday.
+
+"It was glorious!" she exclaimed--"Just glorious! We've been to
+Naples,--crowds gathered in the street to stare at us,--we were ever
+so high above them and they couldn't make us out, as we moved so
+silently! Then we hovered for a bit over Capri,--the island looked
+like a lovely jewel shining with sun and sea,--and now here we are!-
+-home in plenty of time to dress for dinner! You see, dear
+'Duchess'--you need not have been nervous,--the 'White Eagle' is
+safer than any railway train, and ever so much pleasanter!"
+
+"Well, I'm glad you've come back all right"--said Lady Kingswood--
+"It's a great relief! I certainly was afraid---"
+
+"Oh, you must never be afraid of anything!" laughed Morgana--"It
+does no good. We are all too much afraid of everything and
+everybody,--and often when there's nothing to be afraid of! Am I not
+right, most reverend Father Aloysius?" and she turned with a radiant
+smile to the priest whose serious dark eyes rested upon her with an
+expression of mingled admiration and wonder--"I'm so glad to find
+you here with Lady Kingswood--I'm sure you told her there was no
+danger for me, didn't you? Yes? I thought so! Now do stay and dine
+with us, please!--I want you to talk to the Marchese Rivardi--he's
+rather cross! He cannot bear me to have my own way!--I suppose all
+men are like that!--they want women to submit, not to command!" She
+laughed again. "See!--here he comes,--with the sulky air of a
+naughty boy!" this, as Rivardi slowly mounted the terrace steps and
+approached--"I'm off to dress for dinner--come, 'Duchess!' We'll
+leave the men to themselves!"
+
+She slipped her arm through Lady Kingswood's and hurried her away.
+Don Aloysius was puzzled by her words,--and, as Rivardi came up to
+him raised his eyebrows interrogatively. The Marchese answered the
+unspoken query by an impatient shrug.
+
+"Altro! She is impossible!" he said irritably--"Wild as the wind!--
+uncontrollable! She will kill herself!--but she does not care!"
+
+"What has she done?" asked Aloysius, smiling a little--"Has she
+invented something new?--a parachute in which to fall gracefully
+like a falling star?"
+
+"Nothing of the kind"--retorted Rivardi; vexed beyond all reason at
+the priest's tranquil air of good-humored tolerance--"But she
+insists on steering the air-ship herself! She took my place to-day."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Well! You think that nothing? I tell you it is very serious--very
+foolhardy. She knows nothing of aerial navigation--"
+
+"Was her steering faulty?"
+
+Rivardi hesitated.
+
+"No,--it was wonderful"--he admitted, reluctantly; "Especially for a
+first attempt. And now she declares she will travel with the 'White
+Eagle' alone! Alone! Think of it! That little creature alone in the
+air with a huge air-ship under her sole control! The very idea is
+madness!"
+
+"Have patience, Giulio!" said Don Aloysius, gently--"I think she
+cannot mean what she says in this particular instance. She is
+naturally full of triumph at the success of her invention,--an
+amazing invention you must own!--and her triumph makes her bold. But
+be quite easy in your mind!--she will not travel alone!"
+
+"She will--she will!" declared Rivardi, passionately--"She will do
+anything she has a mind to do! As well try to stop the wind as stop
+her! She has some scheme in her brain,--so fantastic vision of that
+Brazen City you spoke of the other day--"
+
+Don Aloysius gave a sudden start.
+
+"No!--not possible!" he said--"She will not pursue a phantasm,--a
+dream!"
+
+He spoke nervously, and his face paled. Rivardi looked at him
+curiously.
+
+"There is no such place then?" he asked--"It is only a legend?"
+
+"Only a legend!" replied Aloysius, slowly--"Some travellers say it
+is a mirage of the desert,--others tell stories of having heard the
+bells in the brazen towers ring,--but no one--NO ONE," and he
+repeated the words with emphasis--"has ever been able to reach even
+the traditional environs of the place. Our hostess," and he smiled--
+"is a very wonderful little person, but even she will hardly be able
+to discover the undiscoverable!"
+
+"Can we say that anything is undiscoverable?" suggested Rivardi.
+
+Don Aloysius thought a moment before replying.
+
+"Perhaps not!"--he said, at last--"Our life all through is a voyage
+of discovery wherein we have no certainty of the port of arrival.
+The puzzling part of it is that we often 'discover' what has been
+discovered before in past ages where the discoverers seemed to make
+no use of their discoveries!--and so we lose ourselves in wonder--
+and often in weariness!" He sighed,--then added--"Had we not better
+go in and prepare to meet our hostess at dinner? And Giulio!--unbend
+your brows!--you must not get angry with your charming benefactress!
+If you do not let her have HER way, she will never let you have
+YOURS!"
+
+Rivardi gave a resigned gesture.
+
+"Oh, MINE! I must give up all hope--she will never think of me more
+than as a workman who has carried out her design. There is something
+very strange about her--she seems, at certain moments, to withdraw
+herself from all the interests of mere humanity. To-day, for
+instance, she looked down from the air-ship on the swarming crowds
+in the streets of Naples and said 'Poor little microbes! How sad it
+is to see them crawling about and festering down there! What IS the
+use of them! I wish I knew!' Then, when I ventured to suggest that
+possibly they were more than 'microbes,'--they were human beings
+that loved and worked and thought and created, she looked at me with
+those wonderful eyes of hers and answered--'Microbes do the same--
+only we don't take the trouble to think about them! But if we knew
+their lives and intentions, I dare say we should find they are quite
+as clever in their own line as we are in ours!' What is one to say
+to a woman who argues in this way?"
+
+Don Aloysius laughed gently.
+
+"But she argues quite correctly after all! My son, you are like the
+majority of men--they grow impatient with clever women,--they prefer
+stupid ones. In fact they deliberately choose stupid ones to be the
+mothers of their children--hence the ever increasing multitude of
+fools!" He moved towards the open doors of the beautiful lounge-hall
+of the Palazzo, Rivardi walking at his side. "But you will grant me
+a measure of wisdom in the advice I gave you the other day-the
+little millionairess is unlike other women--she is not capable of
+loving,--not in the way loving is understood in this world,--
+therefore do not seek from her what she cannot give!--As for her
+'flying alone'--leave that to the fates!--I do not think she will
+attempt it."
+
+They entered the Palazzo just as a servant was about to announce to
+them that dinner would be served in a quarter of an hour, and their
+talk, for the time being, ended. But the thoughts of both men were
+busy; and unknown to each other, centered round the enigmatical
+personality of one woman who had become more interesting to them
+than anything else in the world,--so much so indeed that each in his
+own private mind wondered what life would be worth without her!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+That evening Morgana was in one of her most bewitching moods--even
+the old Highland word "fey" scarcely described her many brilliant
+variations from grave to gay, from gay to romantic, and from
+romantic to a kind of humorous-satiric vein which moved her to utter
+quick little witticisms which might have seemed barbed with too
+sharp a point were they not so quickly covered with a sweetness of
+manner which deprived them of all malice. She looked her best, too,-
+-she had robed herself in a garment of pale shimmering blue which
+shone softly like the gleam of moonbeams through crystal--her
+wonderful hair was twisted up in a coronal held in place by a band
+of diamonds,--tiny diamonds twinkled in her ears, and a star of
+diamonds glittered on her breast. Her elfin beauty, totally unlike
+the beauty of accepted standards, exhaled a subtle influence as a
+lily exhales fragrance--and the knowledge she had of her own charm
+combined with her indifference as to its effect upon others gave her
+a dangerous attractiveness. As she sat at the head of her daintily
+adorned dinner-table she might have posed for a fairy queen in days
+when fairies were still believed in and queens were envied,--and
+Giulio Rivardi's thoughts were swept to and fro in his brain by
+cross-currents of emotion which were not altogether disinterested or
+virtuous. For years his spirit had been fretted and galled by
+poverty,--he, the descendant of a long line of proud Sicilian
+nobles, had been forced to earn a precarious livelihood as an art
+decorator and adviser to "newly rich" people who had neither taste
+nor judgment, teaching them how to build, restore or furnish their
+houses according to the pure canons of art, in the knowledge of
+which he excelled,--and now, when chance or providence had thrown
+Morgana in his way,--Morgana with her millions, and an enchanting
+personality,--he inwardly demanded why he should not win her to have
+and to hold for his own? He was a personable man, nobly born, finely
+educated,--was it possible that he had not sufficient resolution and
+force of character to take the precious citadel by storm? These
+ideas flitted vaguely across his mind as he watched his fair hostess
+talking, now to Don Aloysius, now to Lady Kingswood, and sometimes
+flinging him a light word of badinage to rally him on what she chose
+to call his "sulks."
+
+"He can't get over it!" she declared, smiling--"Poor Marchese
+Giulio! That I should have dared to steer my own air-ship was too
+much for him, and he can't forgive me!"
+
+"I cannot forgive your putting yourself into danger," said Rivardi--
+"You ran a great risk--you must pardon me if I hold your life too
+valuable to be lightly lost."
+
+"It is good of you to think it valuable,"--and her wonderful blue
+eyes were suddenly shadowed with sadness--"To me it is valueless."
+
+"My dear!" exclaimed Lady Kingswood--"How can you say such a thing!"
+
+"Only because I feel it"--replied Morgana--"I dare say my life is
+not more valueless than other lives--they are all without ultimate
+meaning. If I knew, quite positively, that I was all in all to some
+ONE being who would be unhappy without me,--to whom I could be
+helper and inspirer, I dare say I should value my life more,--but
+unfortunately I have seen too much of the modern world to believe in
+the sincerity of even that 'one' being, could I find him--or her. I
+am very positively alone in life,--no woman was ever more alone than
+I!"
+
+"But--is not that your own fault?" suggested Don Aloysius, gently.
+
+"Quite!" she answered, smiling--"I fully admit it. I am what they
+call 'difficult' I know,--I do not like 'society' or its amusements,
+which to me seem very vulgar and senseless,--I do not like its
+conversation, which I find excessively banal and often coarse--I
+cannot set my soul on tennis or golf or bridge--so I'm quite an
+'outsider.' But I'm not sorry!--I should not care to be INside the
+human menagerie. Too much barking, biting, scratching, and general
+howling among the animals!--it wouldn't suit me!"
+
+She laughed lightly, and continued,--
+
+"That's why I say my life is valueless to anyone but myself. And
+that's why I'm not afraid to risk it in flying the 'White Eagle'
+alone."
+
+Her hearers were silent. Indeed there was nothing to be said.
+Whatever her will or caprice there was no one with any right to
+gainsay it. Rivardi was inwardly seething with suppressed
+irritation--but his handsome face showed no sign of annoyance save
+in an extreme pallor and gravity of expression.
+
+"I think,"--said Don Aloysius, after a pause--"I think our hostess
+will do us the grace of believing that whatever she has experienced
+of the world in general, she has certainly won the regard and
+interest of those whom she honours with her company at the present
+moment!"--and his voice had a thrill of irresistible kindness--"And
+whatever she chooses to do, and however she chooses to do it, she
+cannot avoid involving such affection and interest as those friends
+represent--"
+
+"Dear Father Aloysius!" interrupted Morgana, quickly and
+impulsively--"Forgive me!--I did not think!--I am sure you and the
+Marchese and Lady Kingswood have the kindest feeling for me!--but--"
+
+"But!"--and Aloysius smiled--"But--it is a little lady that will not
+be commanded or controlled! Yes--that is so! However this may be,
+let us not imagine that in the rush of commerce and the marvels of
+science the world is left empty of love! Love is still the strongest
+force in nature!"
+
+Morgana's eyes flashed up, then drooped under their white lids
+fringed with gold.
+
+"You think so?" she murmured--"To me, love leads nowhere!"
+
+"Except to Heaven!" said Aloysius.
+
+There followed a silence.
+
+It was broken by the entrance of a servant announcing that coffee
+was served in the loggia. They left the dinner-table and went out
+into the wonder of a perfect Sicilian moonlight. All the gardens
+were illumined and the sea beyond, with wide strands of silver
+spreading on all sides, falling over the marble pavements and steps
+of the loggia and glistening on certain white flowering shrubs with
+the smooth sheen of polished pearl. The magical loveliness of the
+scene, made lovelier by the intense silence of the hour, held them
+as with a binding spell, and Morgana, standing by one of the slender
+columns which not only supported the loggia but the whole Palazzo
+d'Oro as with the petrified stems of trees, made a figure completely
+in harmony with her surroundings.
+
+"Could anything be more enchantingly beautiful!" sighed Lady
+Kingswood--"One ought to thank God for eyes to see it!"
+
+"And many people with eyes would not see it at all,"--said Don
+Aloysius--"They would go indoors, shut the shutters and play Bridge!
+But those who can see it are the happiest!"
+
+And he quoted--
+
+     "'On such a night as this,
+       When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees
+       And they did make no noise,--on such a night
+       Troilus, methinks, mounted the Trojan walls
+       And sighed his soul towards the Grecian tents
+       Where Cressid lay!'"
+
+"You know your Shakespeare!" said Rivardi.
+
+"Who would not know him!" replied Aloysius--"One is not blind to the
+sun!"
+
+"Ah, poor Shakespeare!" said Morgana--"What a lesson he gives us
+miserable little moderns in the worth of fame! So great, so
+unapproachable,--and yet!--doubted and slandered and reviled three
+hundred years after his death by envious detractors who cannot write
+a line!"
+
+"But what does that matter?" returned Aloysius. "Envy and detraction
+in their blackness only emphasise his brightness, just as a star
+shines more brilliantly in a dark sky. One always recognises a great
+spirit by the littleness of those who strive to wound it,--if it
+were not great it would not be worth wounding!"
+
+"Shakespeare might have imagined my air-ship!" said Morgana,
+suddenly--"He was perhaps dreaming vaguely of something like it when
+he wrote about--"
+
+     'A winged messenger of heaven
+      When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds
+      And sails upon the bosom of the air!'
+
+"The 'White Eagle' sails upon the bosom of the air!"
+
+"Quite true"--said the Marchese Rivardi, looking at her as she
+stood, bathed in the moonlight, a nymph-like figure of purely
+feminine charm, as unlike the accepted idea of a "science" scholar
+as could well be imagined--"And the manner of its sailing is a
+mystery which you only can explain! Surely you will reveal this
+secret?--especially when so many rush into the air-craft business
+without any idea of the scientific laws by which you uphold your
+great design? Much has been said and written concerning new schemes
+for air-vessels moved by steam--"
+
+"That is so like men!" interrupted Morgana, with a laugh--"They will
+think of steam power when they are actually in possession of
+electricity!--and they will stick to electricity without moving the
+one step further which would give them the full use of radio-
+activity! They will 'bungle' to the end!--and their bungling is
+always brought about by an ineffable conceit of their own so-called
+'logical' conclusions! Poor dears!--they 'get there' at last--and in
+the course of centuries find out what they could have discovered in
+a month if they had opened their minds as well as their eyes!"
+
+"Well, then,--help them now," said Rivardi--"Give them the chance to
+learn your secret!"
+
+Morgana moved away from the column where she had leaned, and came
+more fully into the broad moonlight.
+
+"My dear Marchese Giulio!" she said, indulgently, "You really are a
+positive child in your very optimistic look-out on the world of to-
+day! Suppose I were to 'give them the chance,' as you suggest, to
+learn my secret, how do you think I should be received? I might go
+to the great scientific institutions of London and Paris and I might
+ask to be heard--I might offer to give a 'demonstration,'" here she
+began to laugh; "Oh dear!--it would never do for a woman to
+'demonstrate' and terrify all the male professors, would it! No!--
+well, I should probably have to wait months before being 'heard,'--
+then I should probably meet with the chill repudiation dealt out to
+that wonderful Hindu scientist, Jagadis Bose, by Burdon Sanderson
+when the brilliant Indian savant tried to teach men what they never
+knew before about the life of plants. Not only that, I should be met
+with incredulity and ridicule--'a woman! a WOMAN dares to assume
+knowledge superior to ours!' and so forth. No, no! Let the wise men
+try their steam air-ships and spoil the skies by smoke and vapour,
+so that agriculture becomes more and more difficult, and sunshine an
+almost forgotten benediction!--let them go their own foolish way
+till they learn wisdom of themselves--no one could ever teach them
+what they refuse to learn, till they tumble into a bog or quicksand
+of dilemma and have to be forcibly dragged out."
+
+"By a woman?" hinted Don Aloysius, with a smile.
+
+She shrugged her shoulders carelessly.
+
+"Very often! Marja Sklodowska Curie, for example, has pulled many
+scientists out of the mud, but they are not grateful enough to
+acknowledge it. One of the greatest women of the age, she is allowed
+to remain in comparative obscurity,--even Anatole France, though he
+called her a 'genius,' had not the generosity or largeness of mind
+to praise her as she deserves. Though, of course, like all really
+great souls she is indifferent to praise or blame--the notice of the
+decadent press, noisy and vulgar like the beating of the cheap-
+jack's drum at a country fair, has no attraction for her. Nothing is
+known of her private life,--not a photograph of her is obtainable--
+she has the lovely dignity of complete reserve. She is one of my
+heroines in this life--she does not offer herself to the cheap
+journalist like a milliner's mannequin or a film face. She will not
+give herself away--neither will I!"
+
+"But you might benefit the human race"--said Rivardi--"Would not
+that thought weigh with you?"
+
+"Not in the least!"--and she smiled--"The human race in its present
+condition is 'an unweeded garden, things rank and gross in nature
+possess it merely,' and it wants clearing. I have no wish to benefit
+it. It has always murdered its benefactors. It deludes itself with
+the idea that the universe is for IT alone,--it ignores the fact
+that there are many other sharers in its privileges and
+surroundings--presences and personalities as real as itself. I am
+almost a believer in what the old-time magicians called
+'elementals'--especially now."
+
+Don Aloysius rose from his chair and put aside his emptied coffee-
+cup. His tall fine figure silhouetted more densely black by the
+whiteness of the moon-rays had a singularly imposing effect.
+
+"Why especially now?" he asked, almost imperatively--"What has
+chanced to make you accept the idea--an old idea, older than the
+lost continent of Atlantis!--of creatures built up of finer life-
+cells than ours?"
+
+Morgana looked at him, vaguely surprised by his tone and manner.
+
+"Nothing has chanced that causes me any wonder," she said--"or that
+would 'make' me accept any theory which I could not put to the test
+for myself. But, out in New York while I have been away, a fellow-
+student of mine--just a boy,--has found out the means of 'creating
+energy from some unknown source'--that is, unknown to the scientists
+of rule-and-line. They call his electric apparatus 'an atmospheric
+generator.' Naturally this implies that the atmosphere has something
+to 'generate' which has till now remained hidden and undeveloped. I
+knew this long ago. Had I NOT known it I could not have thought out
+the secret of the 'White Eagle'!"
+
+She paused to allow the murmured exclamations of her hearers to
+subside,--then she went on--"You can easily understand that if
+atmosphere generates ONE form of energy it is capable of many other
+forms,--and on these lines there is nothing to be said, against the
+possibility of 'elementals.' I feel quite 'elemental' myself in this
+glorious moonlight!--just as if I could slip out of my body like a
+butterfly out of a chrysalis and spread my wings!"
+
+She lifted her fair arms upward with a kind of expansive rapture,--
+the moonbeams seemed to filter through the delicate tissue of her
+garments adding brightness to their folds and sparkling frostily on
+the diamonds in her hair,--and even Lady Kingswood's very placid
+nature was conscious of an unusual thrill, half of surprise and half
+of fear, at the quite "other world" appearance she thus presented.
+
+"You have rather the look of a butterfly!" she said, kindly--"One of
+those beautiful tropical things--or a fairy!--only we don't know
+what fairies are like as we have never seen any!"
+
+Morgana laughed, and let her arms drop at her sides. She felt rather
+than saw the admiring eyes of the two men upon her and her mood
+changed.
+
+"Yes--it is a lovely night,--for Sicily,"--she said. "But it would
+be lovelier in California!"
+
+"In California!" echoed Rivardi--"Why California?"
+
+"Why? Oh, I don't know why! I often think of California--it is so
+vast! Sicily is a speck of garden-land compared with it--and when
+the moon rises full over the great hills and spreads a wide sheet of
+silver over the Pacific Ocean you begin to realise a something
+beyond ordinary nature--it helps you to get to the 'beyond' yourself
+if you have the will to try!"
+
+Just then the soft slow tolling of a bell struck through the air and
+Don Aloysius prepared to take his leave.
+
+"The 'beyond' calls to me from the monastery," he said, smiling--"I
+have been too long absent. Will you walk with me, Giulio?"
+
+"Willingly!" and the Marchese bowed over Lady Kingswood's hand as he
+bade her "Good night."
+
+"I will accompany you both to the gate,"--said Morgana, suddenly--
+"and then--when you are both gone I shall wander a little by myself
+in the light of the moon!"
+
+Lady Kingswood looked dubiously at her, but was too tactful to offer
+any objection such as the "danger of catching cold" which the
+ordinary duenna would have suggested, and which would have seemed
+absurd in the warmth and softness of such a summer night. Besides,
+if Morgana chose to "wander by the light of the moon "who could
+prevent her? No one! She stepped off the loggia on to the velvety
+turf below with an aerial grace more characteristic of flying than
+walking, and glided along between the tall figures of the Marchese
+and Don Aloysius like a dream-spirit of the air, and Lady Kingswood,
+watching her as she descended the garden terraces and gradually
+disappeared among the trees, was impressed, as she had often been
+before, by a strange sense of the supernatural,--as if some being
+wholly unconnected with ordinary mortal happenings were visiting the
+world by a mere chance. She was a little ashamed of this "uncanny"
+feeling,--and after a few minutes' hesitation she decided to retire
+within the house and to her own apartments, rightly judging that
+Morgana would be better pleased to find her so gone than waiting for
+her return like a sentinel on guard. She gave a lingering look at
+the exquisite beauty of the moonlit scene, and thought with a sigh--
+
+"What it would be if one were young once more!"
+
+And then she turned, slowly pacing across the loggia and entering
+the Palazzo, where the gleam of electric lamps within rivalled the
+moonbeams and drew her out of sight.
+
+Meanwhile, Morgana, between her two escorts stepped lightly along,
+playfully arguing with them both on their silence.
+
+"You are so very serious, you good Padre Aloysius!" she said--"And
+you, Marchese--you who are generally so charming!--to-night you are
+a very morose companion! You are still in the dumps about my
+steering the 'White Eagle!'--how cross of you!"
+
+"Madama, I think of your safety,"--he said, curtly.
+
+"It is kind of you! But if I do not care for my safety?"
+
+"I do!" he said, decisively.
+
+"And I also!"--said Aloysius, earnestly--"Dear lady, be advised!
+Think no more of flying in the vast spaces of air alone--alone with
+an enormous piece of mechanism which might fail at any moment--"
+
+"It cannot fail unless the laws of nature fail!"--said Morgana,
+emphatically--"How strange it is that neither of you seems to
+realise that the force which moves the 'White Eagle' is natural
+force alone! However--you are but men!" Here she stopped in her
+walk, and her brilliant eyes flashed from one to the other--"Men!--
+with pre-conceived ideas wedged in obstinacy!--yes!--you cannot help
+yourselves! Even Father Aloysius--" she paused, as she met his grave
+eyes fixed full upon her.
+
+"Well!" he said gently--"What of Father Aloysius? He is 'but man' as
+you say!--a poor priest having nothing in common with your wealth or
+your self-will, my child!--one whose soul admits no other
+instruction than that of the Great Intelligence ruling the universe,
+and from whose ordinance comes forth joy or sorrow, wisdom or
+ignorance. We are but dust on the wind before this mighty power!--
+even you, with all your study and attainment are but a little
+phantom on the air!"
+
+She smiled as he spoke.
+
+"True!" she said--"And you would save this phantom from vanishing
+into air utterly?"
+
+"I would!" he answered--"I would fain place you in God's keeping,"--
+and with a gesture infinitely tender and solemn, he made the sign of
+the cross above her head--"with a prayer that you may be guided out
+of the tangled ways of life as lived in these days, to the true
+realisation of happiness!"
+
+She caught his hand and impulsively kissed it.
+
+"You are good!--far too good!" she said--"And I am wild and wilful--
+forgive me! I will say good night here--we are just at the gate.
+Good night, Marchese! I promise you shall fly with me to the East--I
+will not go alone. There!--be satisfied!" And she gave him a
+bewitching smile--then with another markedly gentle "Good night" to
+Aloysius, she turned away and left them, choosing a path back to the
+house which was thickly overgrown with trees, so that her figure was
+almost immediately lost to view.
+
+The two men looked at each other in silence.
+
+"You will not succeed by thwarting her!"--said Aloysius, warningly.
+
+Rivardi gave an impatient gesture.
+
+"And you?"
+
+"I? My son, I have no aim in view with regard to her! I should like
+to see her happy--she has great wealth, and great gifts of intellect
+and ability--but these do not make real happiness for a woman. And
+yet--I doubt whether she could ever be happy in the ordinary woman's
+way."
+
+"No, because she is not an 'ordinary' woman," said Rivardi, quickly-
+-"More's the pity I think--for HER!"
+
+"And for you!" added Aloysius, meaningly.
+
+Rivardi made no answer, and they walked on in silence, the priest
+parting with his companion at the gate of the monastery, and the
+Marchese going on to his own half-ruined villa lifting its crumbling
+walls out of wild verdure and suggesting the historic past, when a
+Caesar spent festal hours in its great gardens which were now a
+wilderness.
+
+Meanwhile, Morgana, the subject of their mutual thoughts, followed
+the path she had taken down to the seashore. Alone there, she stood
+absorbed,--a fairylike figure in her shimmering soft robe and the
+diamonds flashing in her hair--now looking at the moonlit water,--
+now back to the beautiful outline of the Palazzo d'Oro, lifted on
+its rocky height and surrounded by a paradise of flowers and
+foliage--then to the long wide structure of the huge shed where her
+wonderful air-ship lay, as it were, in harbour. She stretched out
+her arms with a fatigued, appealing gesture.
+
+"I have all I want!"--she said softly aloud,--"All!--all that money
+can buy--more than money has ever bought!--and yet--the unknown
+quantity called happiness is not in the bargain. What is it? Why is
+it? I am like the princess in the 'Arabian Nights' who was quite
+satisfied with her beautiful palace till an old woman came along and
+told her that it wanted a roc's egg to make it perfect. And she
+became at once miserable and discontented because she had not the
+roc's egg! I thought her a fool when I read that story in my
+childhood--but I am as great a fool as she to-day. I want that roc's
+egg!"
+
+She laughed to herself and looked up at the splendid moon, round as
+a golden shield in heaven.
+
+"How the moon shone that night in California!" she murmured--"And
+Roger Seaton--bear-man as he is--would have given worlds to hold me
+in his arms and kiss me as he did once when he 'didn't mean it!' Ah!
+I wonder if he ever WILL mean it! Perhaps--when it is too late!"
+
+And there swept over her mind the memory of Manella--her rich, warm,
+dark beauty--her frank abandonment to passions purely primitive,--
+and she smiled, a cold little weird smile.
+
+"He may marry her,"--she said--"And yet--I think not! But--if he
+does marry her he will never love her--as he loves ME! How we play
+at cross-purposes in our lives!--he is not a marrying man--I am not
+a marrying woman--we are both out for conquest on other lines,--and
+if either of us wins our way, what then? Shall we be content to live
+on a triumph of power,--without love?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+"So the man from Washington told you to bring this to me?"
+
+Roger Seaton asked the question of Manella, twirling in his hand an
+unopened letter she had just given him. She nodded in the
+affirmative. He looked at her critically, amused at the evident
+pains she had taken with her dress and general appearance. He
+twirled the letter again like a toy in his fingers.
+
+"I wonder what it's all about? Do you know?"
+
+Manella shrugged her shoulders with a charming air of indifference.
+
+"I? How should I know? He is your friend I suppose?"
+
+"Not a bit of it!" and Roger stretched himself lazily and yawned--
+"He's the friend of nobody who is poor. But he's the comrade of
+everybody with plenty of cash. He's as hard as a dried old walnut,
+without the shred of a heart--"
+
+"You are wrong!" said Manella, flushing up suddenly--"You are wrong
+and unjust! He is an ugly old man, but he is very kind."
+
+Seaton threw back his head and laughed heartily with real enjoyment.
+
+"Manella, oh, Manella!" he exclaimed--"What has he said or done to
+you to win your good opinion? Has he made you some pretty
+compliments, and told you that you are beautiful? Every one can tell
+you that, my dear! It does not need Mr. Senator Gwent's assurance to
+emphasise the fact! That you find him an ugly old man is natural--
+but that you should also think him 'very kind' DOES surprise me!"
+
+Manella gazed at him seriously--her lovely eyes gleaming like jewels
+under her long black lashes.
+
+"You mock at everything,"--she said--"It is a pity!"
+
+Her tone was faintly reproachful. He smiled.
+
+"My dear girl, I really cannot regard Mr. Senator Gwent as a figure
+to be reverenced!"--he said--"He's one of the dustiest, driest old
+dollar-grabbers in the States. I gave him the chance of fresh grab--
+but he was too much afraid to take it--"
+
+"Afraid of what?" asked Manella, quickly.
+
+"Of shadows!--shadows of coming events!--yes, they scared him! Now
+if you are a good girl, and will sit very quiet, you can come into
+my hut out of this scorching sun, and sit down while I read the
+letter--I may have to write an answer--and if so you can post it at
+the Plaza."
+
+He went before her into the hut, and she followed. He bade her sit
+down in the chair by the window,--she obeyed, and glanced about her
+shyly, yet curiously. The room was not untidy, as she expected it
+would be without a woman's hand to set it in order,--on the contrary
+it was the perfection of neatness and cleanliness. Her gaze was
+quickly attracted by the bowl of perpetually moving fluid in the
+center of the table.
+
+"What is that?" she asked.
+
+"That? Oh, nothing! An invention of mine--just to look pretty and
+cool in warm weather! It reminds me of women's caprices and fancies-
+-always on the jump! Yes!--don't frown, Manella!--that is so! Now--
+let me see what Mr. Sam Gwent has to say that he didn't say before--
+-"and seating himself, he opened the letter and began to read.
+
+Manella watched him from under the shadow of her long-fringed
+eyelids--her heart beat quickly and uncomfortably. She was fearful
+lest Gwent should have broken faith with her after all, and have
+written of her and her vain passion, to the man who already knew of
+it only too well. She waited patiently for the "god of her idolatry"
+to look up. At last he did so. But he seemed to have forgotten her
+presence. His brows were knitted in a frown, and he spoke aloud, as
+to himself--
+
+"A syndicate! Old humbug! He knows perfectly well that the thing
+could not be run by a syndicate! It must be a State's own single
+possession--a State's special secret. If I were as bent on sheer
+destructiveness as he imagines me to be, I should waste no more
+time, but offer it to Germany. Germany would take it at once--
+Germany would require no persuasion to use it!--Germany would make
+me a millionaire twice over for the monopoly of such a force!--that
+is, if I wanted to be a millionaire, which I don't. But Gwent's a
+fool--I must have scared him out of his wits, or he wouldn't write
+all this stuff about risks to my life, advising me to marry quickly
+and settle down! Good God! I?--Marry and settle down? What a tame
+ending to a life's adventure! Hello, Manella!"
+
+His eyes lighted upon her as if he had only just seen her. He rose
+from his chair and went over to where she sat by the window.
+
+"Patient girl!" he said, patting her dark head with his big sun-
+browned hand--"As good as gold and quieter than a mouse! Well! You
+may go now. I've read the letter and there's no answer. Nothing for
+me to write, or for you to post!" She lifted her brilliant eyes to
+his--what glorious eyes they were! He would not have been man had he
+not been conscious of their amorous fire. He patted her head again
+in quite a paternal way.
+
+"Nothing for me to write or for you to post"--he repeated,
+abstractedly--"and how satisfactory that is!"
+
+"Then you are pleased?" she said.
+
+"Pleased? My dear, there is nothing to be pleased or displeased
+about! The ugly old man whom you found so 'very kind' tells me to
+take care of myself--which I always do. Also--to marry and settle
+down--which I always don't!"
+
+She stood upright, turning her head away from the touch of his hand.
+She had never looked more attractive than at that moment,--she wore
+the white gown in which he had before admired her, and a cluster of
+roses which were pinned to her bodice gave rich contrast to the soft
+tone of her smooth, suntanned skin, and swayed lightly with the
+unquiet heaving of the beautiful bosom which might have served a
+sculptor as a perfect model. A faint, quivering smile was on her
+lips.
+
+"You always don't? That sounds very droll! You will be unlike every
+man in the world, then,--they all marry!"
+
+"Oh, do they? You know all about it? Wise Manella!"
+
+And he looked at her, smiling. Her passionate eyes, full of glowing
+ardour, met his,--a flashing fire seemed to leap from them into his
+own soul, and for the moment he almost lost his self-possession.
+
+"Wise Manella!" he repeated, his voice shaking a little, while he
+fought with the insidious temptation which beset him,--the
+temptation to draw her into his arms and take his fill of the love
+she was so ready to give--"They always marry? No dear, they do NOT!
+Many of them avoid marriage--" he paused, then continued--"and do
+you know why?"
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"Because it is the end of romance! Because it rings down the curtain
+on a beautiful Play! The music ceases--the lights are put out--the
+audience goes home,--and the actors take off their fascinating
+costumes, wash away their paint and powder and sit down to supper--
+possibly fried steak and onions and a pot of beer. The fried steak
+and onions--also the beer--make a very good ordinary 'marriage.'"
+
+In this flippant talk he gained the mastery over himself he had
+feared to lose--and laughed heartily as he saw Manella's expression
+of utter bewilderment.
+
+"I do not understand!" she said, plaintively--"What is steak and
+onions?--how do they make a marriage? You say such strange things!"
+
+He laughed again, thoroughly amused.
+
+"Yes, don't I!" he rejoined--"But not half such strange things as I
+could say if I were so inclined! I'm a queer fellow!"
+
+He touched her hair gently, putting back a stray curl that had
+fallen across her forehead.
+
+"Now, dear," he continued, "It's time you went. You'll be wanted at
+the Plaza--and they mustn't think I'm keeping you up here, making
+love to you!"
+
+She tossed her head back, and her eyes flashed almost angrily.
+
+"There's no danger of that!" she said, with a little suppressed
+tremor in her throat like the sob of a nightingale at the close of
+its song.
+
+"Isn't there?" and putting his arm round her, he drew her close to
+himself and looked full in her eyes--"Manella--there WAS!--a moment
+ago!"
+
+She remained still and passive in his arms--hardly daring to
+breathe, so rapt was she in a sudden ecstasy, but he could feel the
+wild beating of her heart against his own.
+
+"A moment ago!" he repeated, in a half whisper. "A moment ago I
+could have made such desperate love to you as would have astonished
+myself!--and YOU! And I should have regretted it ever afterwards--
+and so would you!"
+
+The struggling emotion in her found utterance.
+
+"No, no--not I!" she said, in quick little passionate murmurs--"I
+could not regret it!--If you loved me for an hour it would be the
+joy of my life-time!--You might leave me,--you might forget!--but
+that would not take away my pride and gladness! You might kill me--I
+would die gladly if it saved YOUR life!--ah, you do not understand
+love--not the love of Manella!"
+
+And she lifted her face to his--a face so lovely, so young, so warm
+with her soul's inward rapture that its glowing beauty might have
+made a lover of an anchorite. But with Roger Seaton the impulses of
+passion were brief--the momentary flame had gone out in vapour, and
+the spirit of the anchorite prevailed. He looked at the dewy red
+lips, delicately parted like rose petals--but he did not kiss them,
+and the clasp of his arms round her gradually relaxed.
+
+"Hush, hush Manella!" he said, with a mild kindness, which in her
+overwrought state was more distracting than angry words would have
+been--"Hush! You talk foolishness--beautiful foolishness--all women
+do when they set their fancies on men. It is nature, of course,--YOU
+think it is love, but, my dear girl, there is no such thing as love!
+There!--now you are cross!" for she drew herself quickly away from
+his hold and stood apart, her eyes sparkling, her breast heaving,
+with the air of a goddess enraged,--"You are cross because I tell
+you the truth---"
+
+"It is not the truth," she said, in a low voice quivering with
+intense feeling--"you tell me lies to disguise yourself. But I can
+see! You yourself love a woman--but you have not my courage!--you
+are afraid to own it! You would give the world to hold her in your
+arms as you just now held ME--but you will not admit it--not even to
+yourself--and you pretend to hate when you are mad for love!--just
+as you pretend to be ill when you are well! You should be ashamed to
+say there is no such thing as love! What mean you then by playing so
+false with yourself?--with me?--and with HER?"
+
+She looked lovelier than ever in her anger, and he was taken by
+surprise at the impetuous and instinctive guess she had made at the
+complexity of his moods, which he himself scarcely understood. For a
+moment he stood inert, embarrassed by her straight, half-scornful
+glance--then he regained his usual mental poise and smiled with
+provoking good humour and tolerance.
+
+"Temper, Manella!--temper again! A pity, a pity! Your Spanish blood
+is too fiery, Manella!--it is indeed! You have been very rude--do
+you know how rude you have been? But there! I forgive you! You are
+only a naughty child! As for love---"
+
+He paused, and going to the door of the hut looked out.
+
+"Manella, there is a big cloud in the west just over the ocean. It
+is shaped like a great white eagle and its wings are edged with
+gold,--it is the beginning of a fine sunset. Come and look at it,--
+and while we watch it floating along I will talk to you about love!"
+
+She hesitated,--her whole spirit was up in arms against this man
+whom she loved, and who, so she argued with herself, had allowed her
+to love HIM, while having no love for HER; and yet,--since Gwent had
+told her that his mysterious occupation might result in disaster and
+danger to his life, her devotion had received a new impetus which
+was wholly unselfish,--that of watchful guardianship such as
+inspires a faithful dog to defend its master. And, moved by this
+thought, she obeyed his beckoning hand, and stood with him on the
+sward outside the hut, looking at the cloud he described. It was
+singularly white,--new-fallen snow could be no whiter,--and, shaped
+like a huge bird, its great wings spread out to north and south were
+edged with a red-gold fire. Seaton pushed an old tree stump into
+position and sat down upon it, making Manella sit beside him.
+
+"Now for this talk!" he said--"Love is the subject,--Love the theme!
+We are taught that we must love God and love our neighbor--but we
+don't, because we can't! In the case of God we cannot love what we
+don't know and don't see,--and we cannot love our neighbor because
+he is often a person whom we DO know and CAN see, and who is
+extremely offensive. Now let us consider what IS love? You, Manella,
+are angry because I say there is no such thing--and you accuse me of
+indulging in love for a woman myself. Yet--I still declare, in spite
+of you, there is no such thing as love! I ought to be ashamed of
+myself for saying this--so YOU think!--but I'm not ashamed. I know
+I'm right! Love is a divine idea, never realised. It is like a ninth
+new note in the musical scale--not to be attained. It is suggested
+in the highest forms of poetry and art, but the suggestion can never
+be carried out. What men and women call 'love' is the ordinary
+attraction of sex,--the same attraction that pulls all male and
+female living things together and makes them mate. It is very
+unromantic! And to a man of my mind, very useless."
+
+She looked at him in a kind of sorrowful perplexity.
+
+"You have much talk"--she said--"and no doubt you are clever. But I
+think you are all wrong!"
+
+"You do? Wise child! Now listen to my much talk a little longer!
+Have you ever watched silkworms? No? They are typical examples of
+humanity. A silkworm, while it is a worm, feeds to repletion,--you
+can never get it as many mulberry leaves as it would like to eat--
+then when it is gorged, it builds itself a beautiful house of silk
+(which is taken away from it in due course) and comes out at the
+door in wings!--wings it hardly uses and seems not to understand--
+then, if it is a female moth, it looks about for 'love' from the
+male. If the male 'loves' it, the female produces a considerable
+number of eggs like pin-heads--and then?--what then? Why she
+promptly dies, and there's an end of her! Her sole aim and end of
+being was to produce eggs, which in their turn become worms and
+repeat the same dull routine of business. Now--think me as brutal as
+you like--I say a woman is very like a female silkworm,--she comes
+out of her beautiful silken cocoon of maidenhood with wings which
+she doesn't know how to use--she merely flutters about waiting to be
+'loved'--and when this dream she calls 'love' comes to her, she
+doesn't dream any longer--she wakes--to find her life finished!--
+finished, Manella!--dry as a gourd with all the juice run out!"
+
+Manella rose from her seat beside him. The warm light in her eyes
+had gone--her face was pale, and as she drew herself up to her
+stately height she made a picture of noble scorn.
+
+"I am sorry for you!" she said. "If you think these things your
+thoughts are quite dreadful! You are a cruel man after all! I am
+sorry I spoke of the beautiful little lady who came here to see you-
+-you do not love her--you cannot!--I felt sure you did--but I am
+wrong!--there is no love in you except for yourself and your own
+will!"
+
+She spoke, breathing quickly, and trembling with suppressed emotion.
+He smiled,--and, rising, saluted her with a profound bow.
+
+"Thank you, Manella! You give me a true character!--Myself and my
+own will are certainly the chief factors in my life--and they may
+work wonders yet!--who knows! And there is no love in me--no!--not
+what YOU call love!--but--as concerns the 'beautiful little lady,'
+you may know this much of me--THAT _I_ WANT HER!"
+
+He threw out his hands with a gesture that was almost tragic, and
+such an expression came into his face of savagery and tenderness
+commingled that Manella retreated from him in vague terror.
+
+"I want her!" he repeated--"And why? Not to 'love' her,--but to
+break her wings,--for she, unlike a silkworm moth, knows how to use
+them! I want her, to make her proud mind bend to MY will and way!--I
+want her to show her how a man can, shall, and MUST be master of a
+woman's brain and soul!"
+
+A sudden heat of pent-up feeling broke out in this impulsive rush of
+words;--he checked himself,--and seeing Manella's pale, scared face
+he went up to her and took her hand.
+
+"You see, Manella?" he said, in quiet tones--"There is no such thing
+as 'love,' but there is such a thing as 'wanting.' And--for the most
+selfish reasons man ever had--I want HER--not you!"
+
+The colour rushed back to her cheeks in a warm glow--her great dark
+eyes were ablaze with indignation. She drew her hand quickly from
+his hold.
+
+"And I hope you will never get her!" she said, passionately--"I will
+pray the Holy Virgin to save her from you! For you are wicked! She
+is like an angel--and you are a devil!--yes, surely you must be, or
+you could not say such horrible things! You do not want me, you say?
+I know that! I am a fool to have shown you my heart--you have broken
+it, but you do not care--you could have been master of my brain and
+soul whenever you pleased---"
+
+"Ah yes, dear!" he interrupted, with a smile--"That would be so
+easy!"
+
+The touch of satire in these words was lost on her,--she took them
+quite literally, and a sudden softness sweetened her anger.
+
+"Yes!--quite easy!" she said--"And you would be pleased! You would
+do as you wished with me--men like to rule women!"
+
+"When it is worth while!" he thought, looking at her with a curious
+pitifulness as one might look at a struggling animal caught in a
+net. Aloud he said--
+
+"Yes, Manella!--men like to rule women. It is their special
+privilege--they have enjoyed it always, even in the days when the
+Indian 'braves' beat their squaws out here in California, and killed
+them outright if they dared to complain of the beating! Women are
+busy just now trying to rule men--it's an experiment, but it won't
+do! Men are the masters of life! They expect to be obeyed by all the
+rest of creation. _I_ expect to be obeyed!--and so, Manella, when I
+tell you to go home, you must go! Yes!--love, tempers and all!--you
+must go!"
+
+She met his eyes with a resolved look in her own.
+
+"I am going!" she answered--"But I shall come again. Oh, yes! And
+yet again! and very often! I shall come even if it is only to find
+you dead on this hill--killed by your own secret! Yes--I shall
+come!"
+
+He gave an involuntary movement of surprise and annoyance. Had Mr.
+Senator Gwent discussed his affairs with this beautiful foolish girl
+who, like some forest animal, cared for nothing but the satisfaction
+of mating where her wishes inclined.
+
+"What do you mean, Manella?" he demanded, imperatively--"Do you
+expect to find me dead?"
+
+She nodded vehemently. Tears were in her eyes and she turned her
+head away that he might not see them.
+
+"What a cheerful prospect!" he exclaimed, gaily--"And I'm to be
+killed by my own secret, am I? I wonder what it is! Ah, Manella,
+Manella! That stupid old Gwent has been at you, stuffing your mind
+with a lot of nonsense--don't you believe him! I've no 'secret' that
+will kill me--I don't want to be killed; No, Manella! Though you
+come 'again and yet again and ever so often' as you say, you will
+not find me dead! I'm too strong!"
+
+But Manella, yielding to her inward excitement, pointed a hand at
+him with a warning air of a tragedy queen.
+
+"Do not boast!" she said--"God is always listening! No man is too
+strong for God! I am not clever--I have no knowledge of what you do-
+-but this I will tell you surely! You may have a secret,--or you may
+not have it,--but if you play with the powers of God you will be
+punished! Yes!--of that I am quite certain! And this I will also
+say--if you were to pull all the clouds down upon you and the
+thunders and the lightnings and all the terrible things of
+destruction in the world, I would be there! And you would know what
+love is!--Yes!"--her voice choked, and then pealed out like that of
+a Sybilline prophetess, "If God struck you down to hell, I would be
+there!"
+
+And with a wild, sobbing cry she rushed away from him down the hill
+before he could move or utter a word.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+A red sky burned over Egypt,--red with deep intensity of spreading
+fire. The slow-creeping waters of the Nile washed patches of dull
+crimson against the oozy mud-banks, tipping palms and swaying reeds
+with colour as though touched with vermilion, and here and there
+long stretches of wet sand gleamed with a tawny gold. All Cairo was
+out, inhabitants and strangers alike, strangers especially,
+conceiving it part of their "money's worth" never to miss a sunset,-
+-and beyond Cairo, where the Pyramids lifted their summits aloft,--
+stern points of warning or menace from the past to the present and
+the future,--a crowd of tourists with their Arab guides were
+assembled, staring upward in, amazement at a white wonder in the red
+sky, a great air-ship, which, unlike other air-ships, was noiseless,
+and that moved vast wings up and down with the steady, swift rhythm
+of a bird's flight, as though of its own volition. It soared at an
+immense height so that it was quite impossible to see any pilot or
+passenger. It hung over the Pyramids almost motionless for three or
+four minutes as if about to descend, and the watching groups below
+made the usual alarmist prognostications of evil, taking care to
+look about for the safest place of shelter for themselves should the
+huge piece of mechanism above them suddenly escape control and take
+a downward dive. But apparently nothing was further from the
+intention of its invisible guides. Its pause above the Pyramids was
+brief--and almost before any of the observers had time to realise
+its departure it had floated away with an easy grace, silence and
+swiftness, miraculous to all who saw it vanish into space towards
+the Libyan desert and beyond. The Pyramids, even the Sphinx--lost
+interest for the time being, every eye being strained to watch the
+strange aerial visitant till it disappeared. Then a babble of
+question and comment began in all languages among the travellers
+from many lands, who, though most of them were fairly well
+accustomed to aeroplanes, air-ships and aerial navigation as having
+become part of modern civilisation, found themselves nonplussed by
+the absolute silence and lightning swiftness of this huge bird-
+shaped thing that had appeared with extraordinary suddenness in the
+deep rose glow of the Egyptian sunset sky. Meanwhile the object of
+their wonder and admiration had sped many miles away, and was
+sailing above a desert which, from the height it had attained,
+looked little more than a small stretch of sand such as children
+play upon by the sea. Its speed gradually slackened--and its
+occupants, Morgana, the Marchese Rivardi and their expert mechanic,
+Gaspard, gazed down on the unfolding panorama below them with close
+and eager interest. There was nothing much to see. Every sign of
+humanity seemed blotted out. The red sky burning on the little
+stretch of sand was all.
+
+"How small the world looks from the air!" said Morgana--"It's not
+worth half the fuss made about it! And yet--it's such a pretty
+little God's toy!"
+
+She smiled,--and in her smiling expressed a lovely sweetness.
+Rivardi raised his eyes from his steering gear.
+
+"You are not tired, Madama?" he asked.
+
+"Tired? No, indeed! How can I be tired with so short a journey!"
+
+"Yet we have travelled a thousand miles since we left Sicily this
+morning"--said Rivardi--"We have kept up the pace, have we not,
+Gaspard?--or rather, the 'White Eagle' has proved its speed?"
+
+Gaspard looked up from his place at the end of the ship.
+
+"About two hundred and fifty to three hundred miles an hour,"--he
+said--"One does not realise it in the movement."
+
+"But you realise that the flight is as safe as it is quick?" said
+Morgana--"Do you not?"
+
+"Madama, I confess my knowledge is outdistanced by yours,"--replied
+Gaspard--"I am baffled by your secret--but I freely admit its power
+and success."
+
+"Good! Now let us dine!" said Morgana, opening a leather case such
+as is used for provisions in motoring, set plates, glasses, wine and
+food on the table--"A cold collation--but we'll have hot coffee to
+finish. We could have dined in Cairo, but it would have been a bore!
+Marchese, we'll stop here, suspended in mid-air, and the stars shall
+be our festal lamps, vying with our own!" and she turned on a switch
+which illumined the whole interior of the air-ship with a soft
+bright radiance--"Whereabouts are we? Still over the Libyan desert?"
+
+Rivardi consulted the chart which was spread open in his steering-
+cabin.
+
+"No--I think not. We have passed beyond it. We are over the Sahara.
+Just now we can take no observations--the sunset is dying rapidly
+and in a few minutes it will be quite dark."
+
+As he spoke he brought the ship to a standstill--it remained
+absolutely motionless except for the slight swaying as though
+touched by wave-like ripples of air. Morgana went to the window
+aperture of her silken-lined "drawing-room" and looked out. All
+round the great air-ship were the illimitable spaces of the sky, now
+of a dense dark violet hue with here and there a streak of dull red
+remaining of the glow of the vanished sun,--below there was only
+blackness. For the first time a nervous thrill ran through her frame
+at the look of this dark chaos--and she turned quickly back to the
+table where Rivardi and Gaspard awaited her before sitting down to
+their meal. Something quite foreign to her courageous spirit chilled
+her blood, but she fought against it, and seating herself became the
+charming hostess to her two companions as they ate and drank, though
+she took scarcely anything herself. For most unquestionably there
+was something uncanny in a meal served under such strange
+circumstances, and so far as the two men were concerned it was only
+eaten to sustain strength.
+
+"Well, now, have I not been very good?" she asked suddenly of
+Rivardi--"Did I not say you should fly with me to the East, and are
+you not here? I have not come alone--though that was my wish,--I
+have even brought Gaspard who had no great taste for the trip!"
+
+Gaspard moved uneasily.
+
+"That is true, Madama,"--he said--"The art of flying is still in its
+infancy, and though in my profession as an engineer I have studied
+and worked out many problems, I dare not say I have fathomed all the
+mysteries of the air or the influences of atmosphere. I am glad that
+we have made this voyage safely so far--but I shall be still more
+glad when we return to Sicily!"
+
+Morgana laughed.
+
+"We can do that to-morrow, I dare say!" she said; "If there is
+nothing to see in the whole expanse of the desert but dark
+emptiness"--
+
+"But--what do you expect to see, Madama?" enquired Gaspard, with
+lively curiosity.
+
+She laughed again as she met Rivardi's keen glance.
+
+"Why, ruins of temples--columns--colossi--a new Sphinx-all sorts of
+things!" she replied--"But at night, of course, we can see nothing--
+and we must move onward slowly--I cannot rest swaying like this in
+mid-air." She put aside the dinner things, and served them with hot
+coffee from one of the convenient flasks that hold fluids hot or
+cold for an interminable time, and when they had finished this, they
+went back to their separate posts. The great ship began to move--and
+she was relieved to feel it sailing steadily, though at almost a
+snail's pace "on the bosom of the air." The oppressive nervousness
+which affected her had not diminished; she could not account for it
+to herself,--and to rally her forces she went to the window, so-
+called, of her luxurious cabin. This was a wide aperture filled in
+with a transparent, crystal-clear material, which looked like glass,
+but which was wholly unbreakable, and through this she gazed, awe-
+smitten, at the magnificence of the starry sky. The millions upon
+millions of worlds which keep the mystery of their being veiled from
+humanity flashed upon her eyes and moved her mind to a profound
+sadness.
+
+"What is the use of it all!" she thought--"If one could only find
+the purpose of this amazing creation! We learn a very little, only
+to see how much more there is to know! We live our lives, all
+hoping, searching, praying--and never an answer comes for all our
+prayers! From the very beginning--not a word from the mysterious
+Poet who has written the Poem! We are to breed and die--and there an
+end!--it seems strange and cruel, because so purposeless! Or is it
+our fault? Do we fail to discover the things we ought to know?"
+
+So she mused, while her "White Eagle" ship sailed serenely on with a
+leisurely, majestic motion through a seeming wilderness of stars.
+Courageous as she was, with a veritable lion-heart beating in her
+delicate little body, and firm as was her resolve to discover what
+no woman had ever discovered before, to-night she was conscious of
+actual fear. Something--she knew not what--crept with a compelling
+influence through her blood,--she felt that some mysterious force
+she had never reckoned with was insidiously surrounding her with an
+invisible ring. She called to Rivardi--
+
+"Are we not flying too high? Have you altered the course?"
+
+"No, Madama," he replied at once--"We are on the same level."
+
+She turned towards him. Her face was very pale.
+
+"Well--be careful! To my mind we seem to be in a new atmosphere--
+there is a sensation of greater tension in the air--or--it is my
+fancy. We must not be too adventurous,--we must avoid the Great
+Nebula in Orion for example!"
+
+"Madama, you jest! We are trillions upon trillions of miles distant
+from any great constellation--"
+
+"Do I not know it? You are too literal, Marchese! Of course I jest--
+you could not suppose me to be in earnest! But I am sure we are
+passing through the waves of a new ether--not altogether suited to
+the average human being. The average human being is not made to
+inhabit the higher spaces of the upper air--hark!--What was that?"
+
+She held up a warning hand, and listened. There was a distinct and
+persistent chiming of bells. Bells loud and soft,--bells mellow and
+deep, clear and silvery--clanging in bass and treble shocks of
+rising and falling rhythm and tune! "Do you hear?"
+
+Rivardi and Gaspard simultaneously rose to their feet, amazed.
+Undoubtedly they heard! It was impossible NOT to hear such a clamour
+of concordant sound! Startled beyond all expression, Morgana sprang
+to the window of her cabin, and looking out uttered a cry of mingled
+terror and rapture. . .  for there below her, in the previously inky
+blackness of the Great Desert, lay a great City, stretching out for
+miles, and glittering from end to end with a peculiarly deep golden
+light which seemed to bathe it in the lustre of a setting sun.
+Towers, cupolas, bridges, streets, squares, parks and gardens could
+be plainly seen from the air-ship, which had suddenly stopped, and
+now hung immovably in mid-air; though for some moments Morgana was
+too excited to notice this. Again she called to her companions--
+
+"Look! Look!" she exclaimed--"We have found it! The Brazen City!"
+
+But she called in vain. Turning for response, she saw, to her
+amazement and alarm, both men stretched on the floor, senseless! She
+ran to them and made every effort to rouse them,--they were
+breathing evenly and quietly as in profound and comfortable sleep--
+but it was beyond her skill to renew their consciousness. Then it
+flashed upon her that the "White Eagle" was no longer moving,--that
+it was, in fact, quite stationary,--and a quick rush of energy
+filled her as she realised that now she was as she had wished to be,
+alone with her air-ship to do with it as she would. All fear had
+left her,--her nerves were steady, and her daring spirit was fired
+with resolution. Whatever the mischance which had so swiftly
+overwhelmed Rivardi and Gaspard, she could not stop now to question,
+or determine it,--she was satisfied that they were not dead, or
+dying. She went to the steering-gear to take it in hand--but though
+the mysterious mechanism of the air-ship was silently and rapidly
+throbbing, the ship did not move. She grasped the propeller--it
+resisted her touch with hard and absolute inflexibility. All at once
+a low deep voice spoke close to her ear--
+
+"Do not try to steer. You cannot proceed."
+
+Her heart gave one wild bound,--then almost stood still from sheer
+terror. She felt herself swaying into unconsciousness, and made a
+violent effort to master the physical weakness that threatened her.
+That voice--what voice? Surely one evoked from her own imagination!
+It spoke again--this time with an intonation that was exquisitely
+soothing and tender.
+
+"Why are you afraid? For you there is nothing to fear!"
+
+She raised her eyes and looked about nervously. The soft luminance
+which lit the "White Eagle's" interior from end to end showed
+nothing new or alarming,--her dainty, rose-lined cabin held no
+strange or supernatural visitant,--all was as usual. After a pause
+she rallied strength enough to question the audible but invisible
+intruder.
+
+"Who is it that speaks to me?" she asked, faintly.
+
+"One from the city below,"--was the instant reply given in full
+clear accents--"I am speaking on the Sound Ray."
+
+She held her breath in mute wonder, listening. The voice went on,
+equably--
+
+"You know the use of wireless telephony--we have it as you have it,
+only your methods are imperfect. We speak on Sound Rays which are
+not yet discovered in your country. We need neither transmitter nor
+receiver. Wherever we send our messages, no matter how great the
+distance, they are always heard."
+
+Slowly Morgana began to regain courage. By degrees she realised that
+she was attaining the wish of her heart--namely, to know what no
+woman had ever known before. Again she questioned the voice--
+
+"You tell me I cannot proceed,"--she said--"Why?"
+
+"Because our city is guarded and fortified by the air,"--was the
+answer--"We are surrounded by a belt of etheric force through which
+nothing can pass. A million bombs could not break it,--everything
+driven against it would be dashed to pieces. We saw you coming--we
+were surprised, for no air-ship has ever ventured so far--we rang
+the bells of the city to warn you, and stopped your flight."
+
+The warm gentleness of the voice thrilled her with a sudden
+sympathy.
+
+"That was kind!" she said, and smiled. Some one smiled in response--
+or she thought so. Presently she spoke again--
+
+"Then you hold me here a prisoner?"
+
+"No. You can return the way you came, quite freely."
+
+"May I not come down and see your city?" "No."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because you are not one of us." The Voice hesitated. "And because
+you are not alone."
+
+Morgana glanced at the prostrate and unconscious forms of Rivardi
+and Gaspard with a touch of pity.
+
+"My companions are half dead!" she said.
+
+"But not wholly!" was the prompt reply.
+
+"Is it that force you speak of--the force which guards your city--
+that has struck them down?" she asked.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then why was I not also struck down?"
+
+"Because you are what you are!" Then--after a silence--"You are
+Morgana!"
+
+At this every nerve in her body started quivering like harp strings
+pulled by testing fingers. The unseen speaker knew her name!--and
+uttered it with a soft delicacy that made it sound more than
+musical. She leaned forward, extending a hand as though to touch the
+invisible.
+
+"How do you know me?" she asked.
+
+"As we all know you,"--came the answer--"Even as YOU have known the
+inside of a sun-ray!"
+
+She listened, amazed--utterly mystified. Whoever or whatever it was
+that spoke knew not only her name, but the trend of her earliest
+studies and theories. The "inside of a sun-ray"! This was what she
+had only the other day explained to Father Aloysius as being her
+first experience of real happiness! She tried to set her thoughts in
+order--to realise her position. Here she was, a fragile human thing,
+in a flying ship of her own design, held fast by atmospheric force
+above an unknown city situate somewhere in the Great Desert,--and
+some one in that city was conversing with her by a method of
+"wireless" as yet undiscovered by admitted science,--yet
+communication was perfect and words distinct. Following up the
+suggestion presented to her she said--
+
+"You are speaking to me in English. Are you all English folk in your
+city?"
+
+A faint quiver as of laughter vibrated through the "Sound Ray."
+
+"No, indeed! We have no nationality."
+
+"No nationality?"
+
+"None. We are one people. But we speak every language that ever has
+been spoken in the past, or is spoken in the present. I speak
+English to you because it is your manner of talk, though not your
+manner of life."
+
+"How do you know it is not my manner of life?"
+
+"Because you are not happy in it. Your manner of life is ours. It
+has nothing to do with nations or peoples. You are Morgana."
+
+"And you?" she cried with sudden eagerness--"Oh, who are you that
+speak to me?--man, woman, or angel? What are the dwellers in your
+city, if it is in truth a city, and not a dream!"
+
+"Look again and see!" answered the Voice--"Convince yourself!--do
+not be deceived! You are not dreaming--Look and make yourself sure!"
+
+Impelled to movement, she went to the window which she had left to
+take up the steering-gear,--and from there saw again the wonderful
+scene spread out below, the towers, spires, cupolas and bridges, all
+lit with that mysterious golden luminance like smouldering sunset
+fire.
+
+"It is beautiful!" she said--"It seems true--it seems real--"
+
+"It IS true-it IS real!"--the Voice replied--"It has been seen by
+many travellers,--but because they can never approach it they call
+it a desert 'mirage.' It is more real and more lasting than any
+other city in the world."
+
+"Can I never enter it?" she asked, appealingly--"Will you never let
+me in?"
+
+There was a silence, which seemed to her very long. Still standing
+at the window of her cabin she looked down on the shining city, a
+broad stretch of splendid gold luminance under the canopy of the
+dark sky with its millions of stars. Then the Voice answered her--
+
+"Yes--if you come alone!"
+
+These words sounded so close to her ear that she felt sure the
+speaker must be standing beside her.
+
+"I will come!" she said, impulsively--"Somehow--some way!--no matter
+how difficult or dangerous! I will come!"
+
+As she spoke she was conscious of a curious vibration round her, as
+though some other thing than the ceaseless, silent throbbing of the
+air-ship's mechanism had disturbed the atmosphere.
+
+"Wait!" said the Voice--"You say this without thought. You do not
+realise the meaning of your words. For--if you come, you must stay!"
+
+A thrill ran through her blood.
+
+"I must stay!" she echoed--"Why?"
+
+"Because you have learned the Life-Secret,"--answered the Voice--
+"And, as you have learned it, so must you live. I will tell you more
+if you care to hear--"
+
+An inrush of energy came to her as she listened--she felt that the
+unseen speaker acknowledged the power which she herself knew she
+possessed.
+
+"With all my soul I care to hear!" she said--"But where do you speak
+from? And who are you that speak?"
+
+"I speak from the central Watch-Tower,"--the Voice replied--"The
+City is guarded from that point--and from there we can send messages
+all over the world in every known language. Sometimes they are
+understood--more often they are ignored,--but we, who have lived
+since before the coming of Christ, have no concern with such as do
+not or will not hear. Our business is to wait and watch while the
+ages go by,--wait and watch till we are called forth to the new
+world. Sometimes our messages cross the 'wireless' Marconi system--
+and some confusion happens--but generally the 'Sound Ray' carries
+straight to its mark. You must well understand all that is implied
+when you say you will come to us,--it means that you leave the human
+race as you have known it and unite yourself with another human race
+as yet unknown to the world!"
+
+Here was an overwhelming mystery--but, nothing daunted, Morgana
+pursued her enquiry.
+
+"You can talk to me on the Sound Ray"--she said--"And I understand
+its possibility. You should equally be able to project your own
+portrait--a true similitude of yourself--on a Light Ray. Let me see
+you!"
+
+"You are something of a wilful spirit!" answered the Voice--"But you
+know many secrets of our science and their results. So--as you wish
+it--"
+
+Another second, and the cabin was filled with a pearly lustre like
+the vapour which sweeps across the hills in an early summer dawn--
+and in the center of this as in an aureole stood a nobly
+proportioned figure, clad in gold-coloured garments fashioned after
+the early Greek models. Presumably this personage was human,--but
+never was a semblance of humanity so transfigured. The face and form
+were those of a beautiful youth,--the eyes were deep and brilliant,
+--and the expression of the features was one of fine serenity and
+kindliness. Morgana gazed and gazed, bending herself towards her
+wonderful visitor with all her soul in her eyes,--when suddenly the
+vision, if so it might be called, paled and vanished. She uttered a
+little cry.
+
+"Oh, why have you gone so soon?" she exclaimed.
+
+"It is not I who have gone,"--replied the Voice--"It is only the
+reflection of me. We cannot project a light picture too far or too
+long. And even now--when you come to us--if you ever do come!--do
+you think you will remember me?"
+
+"How could I forget anyone so beautiful!" she said, with passionate
+enthusiasm.
+
+This time the Sound Ray conveyed a vibration of musical laughter.
+
+"Where every being has beauty for a birthright, how should you know
+me more than another!" said the Voice--"Beauty is common to all in
+our city--as common as health, because we obey the Divine laws of
+both."
+
+She stretched out her hands appealingly.
+
+"Oh, if I could only come to you now!" she murmured.
+
+"Patience!" and the Voice grew softer--"There is something for you
+to do in the world. You must lose a love before you find it!"
+
+She drew a quick breath. What could these words mean?
+
+"It is time for you now to turn homeward,"--went on the Voice--"You
+must not be seen above this City at dawn. You would be attacked and
+instantly destroyed, as having received a warning which you refused
+to heed."
+
+"Do you attack and destroy all strangers so?" she asked--"Is that
+your rule?"
+
+"It is our rule to keep away the mischief of the modern world"--
+replied the Voice--"As well admit a pestilence as the men and women
+of to-day!"
+
+"I am a woman of to-day,"--said Morgana.
+
+"No, you are not,--you are a woman of the future!" and the Voice was
+grave and insistent--"You are one of the new race. At the appointed
+hour you will take your part with us in the new world?"
+
+"When will be that hour?"
+
+There was a pause. Then, with an exceeding sweetness and solemnity
+the Voice replied--
+
+"If He will that we tarry till He come, what is that to thee?"
+
+A sense of great awe swept over her, oppressive and humiliating. She
+looked once more through her cabin window at the city spread out
+below, and saw that some of the lights were being extinguished in
+the taller buildings and on the bridges which connected streets and
+avenues in a network of architectural beauty.
+
+The Voice spoke again--
+
+"We are releasing you from the barrier. You are free to depart."
+
+She sighed.
+
+"I have no wish to go!" she said.
+
+"You must!" The Voice became commanding. "If you stay now, you and
+your companions are doomed to perish. There is no alternative. Be
+satisfied that we know you--we watch you--we shall expect you sooner
+or later. Meanwhile--guide your ship!--the way is open."
+
+Quickly she sprang to the steering-gear--she felt the "White Eagle"
+moving, and lifting its vast wings for flight.
+
+"Farewell!" she cried, with a sense of tears in her throat--
+"Farewell!"
+
+"Not farewell!" came the reply, spoken softly and with tenderness--
+"We shall meet again soon! I will speak to you in Sicily!"
+
+"In Sicily!" she exclaimed, joyfully--"You will speak to me there?"
+
+"There and everywhere!" answered the Voice--"The Sound Ray knows no
+distance. I shall speak--and you shall hear--whenever you will!"
+
+The last syllables died away like faintly sung music--and in a few
+more seconds the great air-ship was sailing steadily in a level line
+and at a swift pace onward,--the last shining glimpse of the
+mysterious City vanished, and the "White Eagle" soared over a sable
+blackness of empty desert, through a dark space besprinkled with
+stars. Filled with a new sense of power and gladness, Morgana held
+the vessel in the guidance of her slight but strong hands, and it
+had flown many miles before the Marchese Rivardi sprang up suddenly
+from where he had lain lost in unconsciousness and stared around him
+amazed and confused.
+
+"A thousand pardons, Madama!" he stammered--"I shall never forgive
+myself! I have been asleep!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+
+At almost the same moment Gaspard stumbled to his feet.
+
+"Asleep--asleep!" he exclaimed--"_Mon_ _Dieu!_--the shame of it!--
+the shame! What pigs are men! To sleep after food and wine, and to
+leave a woman alone like this!. . .  the shame!"
+
+Morgana, quietly steering the "White Eagle," smiled.
+
+"Poor Gaspard!" she said--"You could not help it! You were so tired!
+And you, Marchese! You were both quite worn out! I was glad to see
+you sleeping--there is no shame in it! As I have often told you, I
+can manage the ship alone."
+
+But Rivardi was white with anger and self-reproach.
+
+"Gross pigs we are!" he said, hotly--"Gaspard is right! And yet--"
+here he passed a hand across his brow and tried to collect his
+thoughts--"yes!--surely something unusual must have happened! We
+heard bells ringing--"
+
+Morgana watched him closely, her hand on her air-vessel's helm.
+
+"Yes--we all thought we heard bells"--she said--"But that was a
+noise in our own brains--the clamour of our own blood brought on by
+pressure--we were flying at too great a height and the tension was
+too strong--"
+
+Gaspard threw out his hands with a half defiant gesture.
+
+"No, Madama! It could not be so! I swear we never left our own
+level! What happened I cannot tell--but I felt that I was struck by
+a sudden blow--and I fell without force to recover--"
+
+"Sleep struck you that sudden blow, you poor Gaspard!" said Morgana,
+"And you have not slept so long--barely an hour--just long enough
+for me to hover a while above this black desert and then turn
+homeward,--I want no more of the Sahara!"
+
+Rivardi, smarting under a sense of loss and incompetency, went up to
+her.
+
+"Give me the helm!" he said, almost sharply--"You have done enough!"
+
+She resigned her place to him, smiling at his irritation.
+
+"You are sure you are quite rested?" she asked.
+
+"Rested!" he echoed the word disdainfully--"I should never have
+rested at all had I been half the man I profess to be! Why do you
+turn back? I thought you were bent on exploring the Great Desert!--
+that you meant to try and find the traditional Brazen City?"
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"I do not like the prospect"--she said--"There is nothing but sand--
+interminable billows of sand! I can well believe it was all ocean
+once,--when the earth gave a sudden tilt, and all the water was
+thrown off from one surface to another. If we could dig deep enough
+below the sand I think we should find remains of wrecked ships, with
+the skeletons of antediluvian men and animals, remains of one of the
+many wasted civilisations--"
+
+"You do not answer me--" interrupted Rivardi with impatience--"What
+of your search for the Brazen City?"
+
+She raised her lovely, mysterious eyes and looked full at him.
+
+"Do you believe it exists?" she asked.
+
+He gave a gesture of annoyance.
+
+"Whether I believe or not is of no importance,"--he answered--"YOU
+have some idea about it, and you have every means of proving the
+truth of your idea--yet, after making the journey from Sicily for
+the purpose, you suddenly turn back!"
+
+Still she kept her eyes upon him.
+
+"You must not mind the caprices of a woman!" she said, with a smile-
+-"And do please remember the 'Brazen City' is not MY idea! The
+legend of this undiscovered place in the desert was related by your
+friend Don Aloysius--and he was careful to say it was 'only' a
+legend. Why should you think I accept it as a truth?"
+
+"Surely it was the motive of your flight here?" he demanded,
+imperatively.
+
+Her brows drew together in a slight frown.
+
+"My dear Marchese, I allow no one to question my motives"--she said
+with sudden coldness--"That I have decided to go no farther in
+search of the Brazen City is my own affair."
+
+"But--not even to wait for the full daylight!" he expostulated--"You
+could not see it by night even if it existed!"
+
+"Not unless it was lit like other cities!" she said, smiling--"I
+suppose if such a city existed, its inhabitants would need some sort
+of illuminant--they would not grope about in the dark. In that case
+it would be seen from our ship as well by night as by day."
+
+Gaspard, busy with some mechanical detail, looked up.
+
+"Then why not make a search for it while we are here?" he said--"You
+evidently believe in it!"
+
+"I have turned the 'White Eagle' homeward, and shall not turn
+again"--she said--"But I do not see any reason why such a city
+should not exist and be discovered some day. Explorers in tropical
+forests find the remains or beginnings of a different race of men
+from our own--pygmies, and such like beings--there is nothing really
+against the possibility of an undiscovered City in the Great Desert.
+We modern folk think we know a great deal--but our wisdom is very
+superficial and our knowledge limited. We have not mastered
+EVERYTHING under the sun!"
+
+The Marchese Rivardi looked at her with something of defiance in his
+glance.
+
+"I will adventure in search of the legendary city myself, alone!" he
+said.
+
+Morgana laughed, her clear little cold laugh of disdain.
+
+"Do so, my friend! Why not?" she said--"You are a daring airman on
+many forms of airships--I knew that,--before I entrusted you with
+the scheme of mine. Discover the legendary 'Brazen City' if you
+can!--I promise not to be jealous!--and return to the world of
+curiosity mongers--(also, if you CAN!) with a full report of its
+inhabitants and their manners and customs. And so--you will become
+famous! But you must not fall asleep on the way!"
+
+He paled with anger and annoyance,--she still smiled.
+
+"Do not be cross, AMICO!" she said, sweetly. "Think where we are!--
+in the wide spaces of heaven, pilgrims with the stars! This is no
+place for personal feeling of either disappointment or irritation.
+You asked me a while ago if I was tired--I thought I was Hot, but I
+am--very tired!--I am going to rest. And I trust you both to take
+care of me and the 'White Eagle'!"
+
+"We are to make straight for Sicily?" he asked.
+
+"Yes--straight for Sicily."
+
+She retired into her sleeping-cabin and disappeared. The Marchese
+Rivardi looked at Gaspard questioningly.
+
+"We must obey her, I suppose?"
+
+"We could not think of disobeying!" returned Gaspard.
+
+"She is a strange woman!" and as he spoke Rivardi gripped his
+steering-gear with a kind of vindictive force--"It seems absurd that
+we,--two men of fair intelligence and scientific attainment,--should
+be ruled by her whim,--her fancies--for after all she is made up of
+fancies--"
+
+Gaspard shook his finger warningly.
+
+"This air-ship is not a 'whim' or a 'fancy'"--he said, impressively-
+-"It is the most wonderful thing of its kind ever invented! If it is
+given to the world it will revolutionise the whole system of aerial
+navigation. Here we are, flying at top speed in perfect ease and
+safety with no engine--nothing to catch fire--nothing to break or
+bust--and the whole mechanism mysteriously makes its own motive
+power as it goes. Radio-activity it may be--but its condensation and
+use for such a purpose is the secret invention of a woman--and
+surely we must admit her genius! As for our obedience--ECCELLENZA,
+we are both royally paid to obey!"
+
+Rivardi flushed red.
+
+"I know!" he said, curtly--"I never forget it. But money is not
+everything."
+
+Gaspard's mobile French face lit up with a mirthful smile.
+
+"It is most things!" he replied--"Without it even science is
+crippled. And this lady has so much of it!--it seems without end!
+Again,--it is seldom one meets with money and brains and beauty--all
+together!"
+
+"Beauty?" Rivardi queried.
+
+"Why, yes!--beauty that only flashes out at moments--of all beauty
+the most fascinating! A face that is always beautiful is fatiguing,-
+-it is the changeful face with endless play of expression that
+enthralls,--or so it is to me!" And Gaspard gave an eloquent
+gesture--"This lady we both work for seems to have no lovers--but if
+she had, not one of them could ever forget her!"
+
+Rivardi was silent.
+
+"I should not wonder," ventured Gaspard, presently--"if--while we
+slept--she had seen her 'Brazen City'!"
+
+Rivardi uttered something like an oath.
+
+"Impossible!" he exclaimed--"She would have awakened us!"
+
+"If she could, no doubt!" agreed Gaspard--"But if she could not, how
+then?"
+
+For a moment Rivardi looked puzzled,--then he dismissed his
+companion's suggestion with a contemptuous shrug.
+
+"Basta! There is no 'Brazen City'! When she heard the old tradition
+she was like a child with a fairy tale--a child who, reading of
+strawberries growing in the winter snow, goes out forthwith to find
+them--she did not really believe in it--but it pleased her to
+imagine she did. The mere sight of the arid empty desert has been
+enough for her."
+
+"We certainly heard bells"--said Gaspard.
+
+"In our brains! Such sounds often affect the nerves when flying for
+a long while at high speed. For all our cleverness we are only
+human. I have heard on the 'wireless,' sounds that do not seem of
+this world at all."
+
+"So have I"--said Gaspard--"And though it may be my own brain
+talking, I'm not so obstinate in my own knowledge as to doubt a
+possible existing means of communication between one continent and
+another apart from OUR special 'wireless.' In fact I'm sure there is
+something of the kind,--though where it comes from and how it
+travels I cannot say. But certain people get news of occurring
+events somehow, from somewhere, long before it reaches Paris or
+London. I dare say the lady we are with could tell us something
+about it."
+
+"Her powers are not limitless!" said Rivardi--"She is only a woman
+after all!"
+
+Gaspard said no more, and there followed a silence,--a silence all
+the more tense and deep because of the amazing swiftness with which
+the "White Eagle" kept its steady level flight, making no sound
+despite the rapidity of its movement. Very gradually the darkness of
+night lifted, as it were, one corner of its sable curtain to show a
+grey peep-hole of dawn, and soon it became apparent that the ship
+was already far away from the mysterious land of Egypt--"The land
+shadowing with wings"--and was flying over the sea. There was
+something terrific in the complete noiselessness with which it sped
+through the air, and Rivardi, though now he had a good grip on his
+nerves, hardly dared allow himself to think of the adventurous
+business on which he was engaged. A certain sense of pride and
+triumph filled him, to realise that he had been selected from many
+applicants for the post he occupied--and yet with all his
+satisfaction there went a lurking spirit of envy and disappointed
+ambition. If he could win Morgana's love--if he could make the
+strange elfin creature with all her genius and inventive ability his
+own,--why then!--what then? He would share in her fame,--aye, more
+than share it, since it is the way of the world to give its honour
+to no woman whose life is connected with that of a man. The man
+receives the acknowledgment invariably, even if he has done nothing
+to deserve it, and herein is the reason why many gifted women do not
+marry, and prefer to stand alone in effort and achievement rather
+than have their hardly won renown filched from them by unjust hands.
+When Roger Seaton confessed to the girl Manella that his real desire
+was to bend and subdue Morgana's intellectuality to his own, he
+spoke the truth, not only for himself but for all men. Absolutely
+disinterested love for a brilliantly endowed woman would be
+difficult to find in any male nature,--men love what is inferior to
+themselves, not superior. Thus women who are endowed with more than
+common intellectual ability have to choose one of two alternatives--
+love, or what is called love, and child-bearing,--or fame, and
+lifelong loneliness.
+
+The Marchese Rivardi, thinking along the usual line of masculine
+logic, had frequently turned over the problem of Morgana's complex
+character such as it appeared to him,--and had almost come to the
+conclusion that if he only had patience he would succeed in
+persuading her that wifehood and motherhood were more conducive to a
+woman's happiness than all the most amazing triumphs of scientific
+discovery and attainment. He was perfectly right according to simple
+natural law,--but he chose to forget that women's mental outlook
+has, in these modern days, been greatly widened,--whether for their
+gain or loss it is not yet easy to say. Even for men "much knowledge
+increaseth sorrow,"--and it may be hinted that women, with their
+often overstrung emotions and exaggerated sentiments, are not fit to
+plunge deeply into studies which tax the brain to its utmost
+capacity and try the nerves beyond the level of the calm which is
+essential to health. Though it has to be admitted that married life
+is less peaceful than hard study--and the bright woman who recently
+said, "A husband is more trying than any problem in Euclid," no
+doubt had good cause for the remark. Married or single, woman both
+physically and mentally is the greatest sufferer in the world--her
+time of youth and unthinking joy is brief, her martyrdom long--and
+it is hardly wonderful that she goes so often "to the bad" when
+there is so little offered to attract her towards the good.
+
+Rivardi, letting himself go on the flood-tide of hope and ambition,
+pleased his mind with imaginary pictures of Morgana as his wife and
+as mother of his children, rehabilitating his fallen fortunes,
+restoring his once great house and building a fresh inheritance for
+its former renown. He saw no reason why this should not be,--yet--
+even while he indulged in his thoughts of her, he knew well enough
+that behind her small delicate personality there was a powerful
+intellectual "lens," so to speak, through which she examined the ins
+and outs of character in man or woman; and he felt that he was
+always more or less under this "lens," looked at as carefully as a
+scientist might study bacteria, and that as a matter of fact it was
+as unlikely as the descent of the moon-goddess to Endymion that she
+would ever submit herself to his possession. Nevertheless, he
+argued, stranger things had happened!
+
+The grey peep of dawn widened into a silver rift, and the silver
+rift streamed into a bar of gold, and the gold broke up into long
+strands of blush pink and pale blue like festal banners hanging in
+heaven's bright pavilion, and the "White Eagle" flew on swiftly,
+steadily, securely, among all the glories of the dawn like a winged
+car for the conveyance of angels. And both Rivardi and Gaspard
+thought they were not far from the realisation of an angel when
+Morgana suddenly appeared at the door of her sleeping-cabin, attired
+in a fleecy-wool gown of purest white, her wonderful gold hair
+unbound and falling nearly to her feet.
+
+"What a perfect morning!" she exclaimed--"All things seem new! And I
+have had such a good rest! The air is so pure and clean--surely we
+are over the sea?"
+
+"We are some fifteen thousand feet above the Mediterranean"--
+answered Rivardi, looking at her as he spoke with unconcealed
+admiration;--never, he thought, had she seemed so charming, youthful
+and entirely lovable--"I am glad you have rested--you look quite
+refreshed and radiant. After all, it is a test of endurance--this
+journey to Egypt and back."
+
+"Do you think so?" and Morgana smiled--"It should be nothing--it
+really is nothing! We ought to be quite ready and willing to travel
+like this for a week on end! But you and Gaspard are not yet
+absolutely sure of our motive power!--you cannot realise that as
+long as we keep going so long will our 'going' force be generated
+without effort--yet surely it is proved!"
+
+Gaspard lifted his eyes towards her where she stood like a little
+white Madonna in a shrine.
+
+"Yes, Madama, it is proved!" he said--"But the secret of its
+proving?--"
+
+"Ah! That, for the present, remains locked up in the mystery box--
+here!" and she tapped her forehead with her finger--"The world is
+not ready for it. The world is a destructive savage, loving evil
+rather than good, and it would work mischief more than usefulness
+with such a force--if it knew! Now I will dress, and give you
+breakfast in ten minutes."
+
+She waved a hand to them and disappeared, returning after a brief
+interval attired in her "aviation" costume and cap. Soon she had
+prepared quite a tempting breakfast on the table.
+
+"Thermos coffee!" she said, gaily--"All hot and hot! We could have
+had Thermos tea, but I think coffee more inspiriting. Tea always
+reminds me of an afternoon at a country vicarage where good ladies
+sit round a table and talk of babies and rheumatism. Kind,--but so
+dull! Come--you must take it in turns--you, Marchese, first, while
+Gaspard steers--and Gaspard next--just as you did last night at what
+we called dinner, before you fell asleep! Men DO fall asleep after
+dinner you know!--it's quite ordinary. Married men especially!--I
+think they do it to avoid conversation with their wives!"
+
+She laughed, and her eyes flashed mirthfully as Rivardi seated
+himself opposite to her at table.
+
+"Well, _I_ am not married"--he said, rather petulantly--"Nor is
+Gaspard. But some day we may fall into temptation and NOT be
+delivered from evil."
+
+"Ah yes!" and Morgana shook her fair head at him with mock
+dolefulness--"And that will be very sad! Though nowadays it will not
+bind you to a fettered existence. Marriage has ceased to be a
+sacrament,--you can leave your wives as soon as you get tired of
+them,--or--they can leave YOU!"
+
+Rivardi looked at her with reproach in his handsome face and dark
+eyes.
+
+"You read the modern Press"--he said--"A pity you do!"
+
+"Yes--it's a pity anyone reads it!"--she answered--"But what are we
+to read? If low-minded and illiterate scavengers are employed to
+write for the newspapers instead of well-educated men, we must put
+up with the mud the scavengers collect. We know well enough that
+every journal is more or less a calendar of lies,--all the same we
+cannot blind ourselves to the great change that has come over
+manners and morals--particularly in relation to marriage. Of course
+the Press always chronicles the worst items bearing on the subject--
+"
+
+"The Press is chiefly to blame for it"--declared Rivardi.
+
+"Oh, I think not!" and Morgana smiled as she poured out a second cup
+of coffee--"The Press cannot create a new universe. No--I think
+human nature alone is to blame--if blame there be. Human nature is
+tired."
+
+"Tired?" echoed Rivardi--"In what way?"
+
+"In every way!"--and a lovely light of tenderest pity filled her
+eyes as she spoke--"Tired of the same old round of working, mating,
+breeding and dying--for no results really worth having! Civilisation
+after civilisation has arisen--always with strife and difficulty,
+only to pass away, leaving, in many cases, scarce a memory. Human
+nature begins to weary of the continuous 'grind'--it demands the
+'why' of its ceaseless labour. Latterly, poor striving men and women
+have been deprived of faith--they used to believe they had a loving
+Father in Heaven who cared for them,--but the monkeys of the race,
+the atheists, swinging from point to point of argument and
+chattering all the time, have persuaded them that they are as
+Tennyson once mournfully wrote--"
+
+  "Poor orphans of nothing--alone on that lonely shore,
+  Born of the brainless Nature who knew not that which she
+  bore!"
+
+"Can we wonder then that they are tired?--tired of pursuing a
+useless quest? Human nature is craving for a change--for a newer
+world--a newer race,--and those who see that Nature is NOT
+'brainless' but full of intelligent conception, are sure that the
+change will come!"
+
+"And you are one of 'those who see'?--" said Rivardi, incredulously.
+
+"I do not say I am,--that would be too much self-assertion"--she
+answered--"But I hope I am! I long to see the world endowed more
+richly with health and happiness. See how gloriously the sun has
+risen! In what splendour of light and air we are sailing! If we can
+do as much as this we ought to be able to do more!"
+
+"We shall do more in time"--he said--"The advance of one step leads
+to another."
+
+"In time!" echoed Morgana--"What time the human race has already
+taken to find out the simplest forces of nature! It is the horrible
+bulk of blank stupidity that hinders knowledge--the heavy obstinate
+bulk that declines to budge an inch out of its own fixity. Nowadays
+we triumph in our so-called 'discoveries' of wireless telegraphy and
+telephony, light-rays and other marvels--but these powers have
+always been with us from the beginning of things,--it is we, we
+only, who have refused to accept them as facts of the universe. Let
+us talk no more about it!--Stupidity is the only thing that moves me
+to despair!"
+
+She rose from the little table, and called Gaspard to breakfast,
+while Rivardi went back to the business of steering. The day was now
+fully declared, and the great air-ship soared easily in a realm of
+ethereal blue--blue above, blue below--its vast wings moving up and
+down with perfect rhythm as if it were a living, sentient creature,
+revelling in the joys of flight. For the rest of the day Morgana was
+very silent, contenting herself to sit in her charming little rose-
+lined nest of a room, and read,--now and then looking out on the
+radiating space around her, and watching for the first slight
+downward movement of the "White Eagle" towards land. She had plenty
+to occupy her thoughts--and strange to say she did not consider as
+anything unexpected or remarkable, her brief communication with the
+"Brazen City." On the contrary it seemed quite a natural happening.
+Of course it had always been there, she said to herself,--only
+people were too dull and unenterprising to discover it,--besides, if
+they had ever found it (certain travellers having declared they had
+seen it in the distance) they would not have been allowed to
+approach it. This fact was the one point that chiefly dwelt in her
+mind--a secret of science which she puzzled her brain to fathom.
+What could be the unseen force that guarded the city?--girding it
+round with an unbreakable band from all exterior attack? A million
+bombs could not penetrate it,--so had said the Voice travelling to
+her ears on the mysterious Sound Ray. She thought of Shakespeare's
+lines on England--
+
+ "This precious stone set in the silver sea
+  Which serves it in the office of a wall,
+  Or as a moat defensive to a house
+  Against the envy of less happy lands."
+
+Modern science had made the sea useless as a "wall" or "moat
+defensive" against attacks from the air,--but if there existed an
+atmospheric or "etheric" force which could be utilised and brought
+to such pressure as to encircle a city or a country with a
+protective ring that should resist all effort to break it, how great
+a security would be assured "against the envy of less happy lands"!
+Here was a problem for study,--study of the intricate character
+which she loved--and she became absorbed in what she called
+"thinking for results," a form of introspection which she knew, from
+experience, sometimes let in unexpected light on the creative cells
+of the brain and impelled them to the evolving of hitherto untried
+suggestions. She sat quietly with a book before her, not reading,
+but bent on seeking ways and means for the safety and protection of
+nations,--as bent as Roger Seaton was on a force for their
+destruction. So the hours passed swiftly, and no interruption or
+untoward obstacle hindered the progress of the "White Eagle" as it
+careered through the halcyon blue of the calmest, loveliest sky that
+ever made perfect weather, till late afternoon when it began to
+glide almost insensibly downward towards earth. Then she roused
+herself from her long abstraction and looked through the window of
+her cabin, watching what seemed to be the gradual rising of the land
+towards the air-ship, showing in little green and brown patches like
+the squares of a chess-board,--then the houses and towns, tiny as
+children's toys--then the azure gleam of the sea and the boats
+dancing like bits of cork upon it,--then finally the plainer,
+broader view, wherein the earth with its woods and hills and rocky
+promontories appeared to heave up like a billow crowned with varying
+colours,--and so steadily, easily down to the pattern of grass and
+flowers from the centre of which the Palazzo d'Oro rose like a
+little white house for the abode of fairies.
+
+"Well steered!" said Morgana, as the ship ran into its shed with the
+accuracy of a sword slipping into its sheath, and the soundless
+vibration of its mysterious motive-power ceased--"Home again
+safely!--and only away forty-eight hours! To the Sahara and back!--
+how far we have been, and what we have seen!"
+
+"WE have seen nothing"--said Rivardi meaningly, as he assisted her
+to alight--"The seeing is all with YOU!"
+
+"And the believing!" she answered, smiling--"All my thanks to you
+both for your skilful pilotage. You must be very tired--" here she
+gave her hand to them each in turn--"Again a thousand thanks! No
+air-ship could be better manned!"
+
+"Or woman'd?" suggested Rivardi.
+
+She laughed.
+
+"IF you like! But I only steered while you slept. That is nothing!
+Good night!"
+
+She left them, running up the garden path lightly like a child
+returning from a holiday, and disappeared.
+
+"But that which she calls nothing"--said Gaspard as he watched her
+go--"is everything!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+
+For some days after her adventurous voyage to the Great Desert and
+back Morgana chose to remain in absolute seclusion. Save for Lady
+Kingswood and her own household staff, she saw no one, and was not
+accessible even to Don Aloysius, who called several times, moved not
+only by interest, but genuine curiosity, to enquire how she fared.
+Many of the residents in the vicinity of the Palazzo d'Oro had
+gleaned scraps of information here and there concerning the
+wonderful air-ship which they had seen careering over their heads
+during its testing trials, and as a matter of course they had heard
+more than scraps in regard to its wealthy owner. But nowadays keen
+desire to know and to investigate has given place to a sort of civil
+apathy which passes for good form--that absolute indifferentism
+which is too much bored to care about other people's affairs, and
+which would not disturb itself if it heard of a neighbour deciding
+to cross the Atlantic in a washtub. "Nothing matters," is the
+general verdict on all events and circumstances. Nevertheless, the
+size, the swiftness and soundlessness of the "White Eagle" and the
+secrecy observed in its making, had somewhat moved the heavy lump of
+human dough called "society," and the whispered novelty of Morgana's
+invention had reached Rome and Paris, nay, almost London, without
+her consent or knowledge. So that she was more or less deluged with
+letters; and noted scientists, both in France and Italy, though all
+incredulous as to her attainment, made it a point of "business" to
+learn all they could about her, which was not much more than can be
+usually learned about any wealthy woman or man with a few whims to
+gratify. A murderer gains access to the whole press,--his look, his
+manner, his remarks, are all carefully noted and commented upon,--
+but a scientist, an explorer, a man or woman whose work is that of
+beneficence and use to humanity, is barely mentioned except in the
+way of a sneer. So it often chances that the public know nothing of
+its greatest till they have passed beyond the reach of worldly
+honour.
+
+Morgana, however, had no desire that her knowledge or attainment
+should be admitted or praised. She was entirely destitute of
+ambition. She had read too much and studied too deeply to care for
+so-called "fame," which, as she knew, is the mere noise of one
+moment, to be lost in silence the next. She was self-centered and
+yet not selfish. She felt that to understand her own entity, its
+mental and physical composition, and the possibilities of its future
+development, was sufficient to fill her life--that life which she
+quite instinctively recognised as bearing within itself the seed of
+immortality. Her strange interview with the "Voice" from the City in
+the Desert, and the glimpse she had been permitted to see of the
+owner of that voice, had not so much surprised her as convinced her
+of a theory she had long held,--namely that there were other types
+of the human race existing, unknown to the generality of ordinary
+men and women--types that were higher in their organisation and
+mental capacity,--types which by reason of their very advancement
+kept themselves hidden and aloof from modern civilisation. And she
+forthwith plunged anew into the ocean of scientific problems, where
+she floated like a strong swimmer at ease with her mind upturned to
+the stars.
+
+Yet she did not neglect the graceful comforts and elegancies of the
+Palazzo d'Oro, and life went on in that charming abode peacefully.
+Morgana always being the kindest of patrons to Lady Kingswood, and
+discoursing feminine commonplaces with her as though there were no
+other subjects of conversation in the world than embroidery and
+specific cures for rheumatism. She said little--indeed almost
+nothing,--of her aerial voyage to the East, except that she had
+enjoyed it, and that the Pyramids and the Sphinx were dwarfed into
+mere insignificant dots on the land as seen from the air,--she had
+apparently nothing more to describe, and Lady Kingswood was not
+sufficiently interested in air-travel to press enquiry. One bright
+sunny morning, after a week of her self-imposed seclusion, she
+announced her intention of calling at the monastery to see Don
+Aloysius.
+
+"I have been rather rude"--she said--"Of course he has wanted to
+know how my flight to the East went off!--and I have given no sign
+and sent no message."
+
+"He has called several times"--replied Lady Kingswood--"and I think
+he has been very much disappointed not to be received."
+
+"Poor reverend Father!" and Morgana smiled--"He should not bother
+his mind about a woman! Well! I'm going to see him now."
+
+Lady Kingswood looked at her critically. She was gowned in a simple
+white morning frock with touches of blue,--and she wore a broad-
+brimmed Tuscan straw hat with a fold of blue carelessly twined about
+it. She made a pretty picture--one of extraordinary youthfulness for
+any woman out of her 'teens--so much so that Lady Kingswood wondered
+if voyages in the air would be found to have a rejuvenating effect.
+
+"They do not admit women into the actual monastery"--she went on--
+"Feminine frivolities are forbidden! But the ruined cloister is open
+to visitors and I shall ask to see Don Aloysius there."
+
+She lightly waved adieu and went, leaving her amiable and contented
+chaperone to the soothing companionship of a strip of embroidery at
+which she worked with the leisurely tranquillity which such an
+occupation engenders.
+
+The ruined cloister looked very beautiful that morning, with its
+crumbling arches crowned and festooned with roses climbing every way
+at their own sweet will, and Morgana's light figure gave just the
+touch of human interest to the solemn peacefulness of the scene. She
+waited but two or three minutes before Don Aloysius appeared--he had
+seen her arrive from the window of his own private library. He
+approached her slowly--there was a gravity in the expression of his
+face that almost amounted to coldness, and no smile lightened it as
+she met his keen, fixed glance.
+
+"So you have come to me at last!" he said--"I have not merited your
+confidence till now! Why?"
+
+His rich voice had a ring of deep reproach in its tone--and she was
+for a moment taken aback. Then her native self-possession and
+perfect assurance returned.
+
+"Dear Father Aloysius, you do not want my confidence! You know all I
+can tell you!" she said--and drawing close to him she laid her hand
+on his arm--"Am I not right?"
+
+A tremor shook him--gently he put her hand aside.
+
+"You think I know!" he replied--"You imagine--"
+
+"Oh, no, I imagine nothing!" and she smiled--"I am sure--yes, SURE!-
+-that you have the secret of things that seem fabulous and yet are
+true! It was you who first told me of the Brazen City in the Great
+Desert,--you said it was a mere tradition--but you filled my mind
+with a desire to find it--"
+
+"And you found it?" he interrupted, quickly--"You found it?"
+
+"You know I did!" she replied--"Why ask the question? Messages on a
+Sound-Ray can reach YOU, as well as me!"
+
+He moved to the stone bench which occupied a corner of the cloister
+and sat down. He was very pale and his eyes were feverishly bright.
+Presently he seemed to recover himself, and spoke more in his usual
+manner.
+
+"Rivardi has been here every day"--he said--"He has talked of
+nothing but you. He told me that he and Gaspard fell suddenly
+asleep--for which they were grievously ashamed of themselves--and
+that you took control of the air-ship and turned it homeward before
+you had given them any chance to explore the desert--"
+
+"Quite true!" she answered, tranquilly--"And--YOU knew all that
+before he told you! You knew that I was compelled to turn the ship
+homeward because it was not allowed to proceed! Dear Father
+Aloysius, you cannot hide yourself from me! You are one of the few
+who have studied the secrets of the approaching future,--the
+'change' which is imminent--the 'world to come' which is coming!
+Yes!--and you are brave to live as you do in the fetters of a
+conventional faith when you have such a far wider outlook--"
+
+He stopped her by a gesture, rising from where he sat and extending
+a hand of warning and authority.
+
+"Child, beware what you say!" and his voice had a ring of sternness
+in its mellow tone--"If I know what you think I know, on what ground
+do you suppose I have built my knowledge? Only on that faith which
+you call 'conventional'--that faith which has never been understood
+by the world's majority! That faith which teaches of the God-in-Man,
+done to death by the Man WITHOUT God in him!--and who, nevertheless,
+by the spiritual strength of a resurrection from the grave, proves
+that there is no death but only continuous renewal of life! This is
+no mere 'convention' of faith,--no imaginary or traditional tale--it
+is pure scientific fact. The virginal conception of divinity in
+woman, and the transfiguration of manhood, these things are true--
+and the advance of scientific discovery will prove them so beyond
+all denial. We have held the faith, AS IT SHOULD BE HELD, for
+centuries,--and it has led us, and continues to lead us, to all we
+know."
+
+"We?" queried Morgana, softly--"WE--of the Church?--or of the Brazen
+City?"
+
+He looked at her for some moments without speaking. His tall fine
+figure seemed more than ever stately and imposing--and his features
+expressed a calm assurance and dignity of thought which gave them
+additional charm.
+
+"Your question is bold!" he said--"Your enterprising spirit stops at
+nothing! You have learned much--you are resolved to learn more!
+Well,--I cannot prevent you,--nor do I see any reason why I should
+try! You are a resolved student,--you are also a woman:--a woman
+different to ordinary women and set apart from ordinary womanhood.
+So I say to you 'We of the Brazen City'--if you will! For more than
+three thousand years 'we' have existed--'we' have studied, 'we' have
+discovered--'we' have known. 'We,' the selected offspring of all the
+race that ever were born,--'we,' the pure blood of the earth,--'we,'
+the progenitors of the world TO BE,--'we' have lived, watching
+temporary civilisations rise and fall,--seeing generations born and
+die, because, like weeds, they have grown without any root of
+purpose save to smother their neighbours and destroy. 'We' remain as
+commanded, waiting for the full declaration and culmination of those
+forces which are already advancing to the end,--when the 'Kingdom'
+comes!"
+
+Morgana moved close to him, and looked up at his grave, dark face
+beseechingly.
+
+"Then why are you here?" she asked--"If you know,--if you were ever
+in the 'Brazen City' how did it happen that you left it? How could
+it happen?"
+
+He smiled down into the jewel-blue of her clear eyes.
+
+"Little child!" he said--"Brilliant soul, that rejoiced in the
+perception that gave you what you called 'the inside of a sun-ray,'-
+-you, for whom the things which interest men and women of the moment
+are mere toys of poor invention--you, of all others, ought to know
+that when the laws of the universe are understood and followed,
+there can be no fetters on the true liberty of the subject? IF I
+were ever in the 'Brazen City'--mind! I say 'if'--there could be
+nothing to prevent my leaving it if I chose--"
+
+She interrupted him by the uplifting of a hand.
+
+"I was told"--she said slowly--"by a Voice that spoke to me--that if
+I went there I should have to stay there!"
+
+"No doubt!" he answered--"For love would keep you!"
+
+"Love!" she echoed.
+
+"Even so! Such love as you have never dreamed of, dear soul weighted
+with millions of gold! Love!--the only force that pulls heaven to
+earth and binds them together!"
+
+"But YOU--you--if you were in the Brazen City--"
+
+"If!" he repeated, emphatically.
+
+"If--yes! if"--she said--"If you were there, love did not hold YOU?"
+
+"No!"
+
+There was a silence. The sunshine burned down on the ancient grey
+flagstones of the cloister, and two gorgeous butterflies danced over
+the climbing roses that hung from the arches in festal wreaths of
+pink and white. A luminance deeper than that of the sun seemed to
+encircle the figures standing together--the one so elfin, light and
+delicate,--the other invested with a kind of inward royalty
+expressing itself outwardly in stateliness of look and bearing.
+Something mysteriously suggestive of super-humanity environed them;
+a spirit and personality higher than mortal. After some minutes
+Aloysius spoke again--
+
+"The city is not a 'Brazen' City"--he said--"It has been called so
+by travellers who have seen its golden towers glistening afar off in
+a sudden refraction of light lasting but a few seconds. Gold often
+looks like brass and brass like gold, in human entities as in
+architectural results." He paused--then went on slowly and
+impressively--"Surely you remember,-you MUST remember, that it is
+written 'The city lieth four-square, and the length is as large as
+the breadth. The wall thereof is according to the measure of a man--
+that is, of the Angel. And the city is of pure gold.' Does that give
+you no hint of the measure of a man, that is, of the Angel?--of the
+'new heavens and the new earth,' the old things being passed away?
+Dear child, you have studied deeply--you have adventured far and
+greatly!--continue your quest, but do not forget to take your
+guiding Light, the Faith which half the world and more ignores!"
+
+She sprang to him impulsively and caught his hands.
+
+"Oh, you must help me!" she cried--"You must teach me--I want to
+know what YOU know!--"
+
+He held her gently and with reverent tenderness.
+
+"I know no more than you,"--he answered--"you work by Science--I, by
+Faith, the bed-rock from Which all science proceeds--and we arrive
+at the same discoveries by different methods. I am a poor priest in
+the temple of the Divine, serving my turn--but I am not alone in
+service, for in every corner of the habitable globe there is one
+member of our 'City' who communicates with the rest. One!--but
+enough! To-day's commercial world uses old systems of wireless
+telegraphy and telephony which were known and done with thousands of
+years ago--but 'we' have the sound-ray--the light which carries
+music on its wings and creates form as it goes."
+
+Here he released her hands.
+
+"Knowing what you do know you have no need of my help"--he
+continued--"You have not found happiness yet, because that only
+comes through one source--Love. But I doubt not that God will give
+you that in His own good time." He paused--then went on--"As you go
+out, enter the chapel for a moment and send a prayer on the Sound-
+Ray to the Centre of all Knowledge,--the source of all discovery--
+have no fear but that it will arrive! The rest is for you to
+decide."
+
+She hesitated.
+
+"And--the Brazen City?" she queried.
+
+"The Golden City!" he answered--"Well, you have had your experience!
+Your name is known there--and no doubt you can hear from it when you
+will."
+
+"Do YOU hear from it?" she asked, pointedly.
+
+He smiled gravely.
+
+"I may not speak of what I hear"--he answered. "Nor may you!"
+
+She was silent for a space--then looked up at him appealingly.
+
+"The world is changed for me"--she said--"It will never be the same
+again! I do not seem to belong to it--other influences surround me,-
+-how I live in it?--how shall I work--what shall I do?"
+
+"You will do as you have always done--go your own way"--he replied--
+"The way which has led you to so much discovery and attainment. You
+must surely know in your own soul that you have been guided in that
+way--and your success is the result of allowing yourself to BE
+guided. In all things you will be guided now--have no fear for
+yourself! All will be well for you!"
+
+"And for you?" she asked impulsively.
+
+He smiled.
+
+"Why think of me?" he said, gently--"I am nothing in your life--"
+
+"You are!" she replied--"You are more than you imagine. I begin to
+realise--"
+
+He held up his hand with a warning gesture.
+
+"Hush!" he said--"There are things of which we must not speak!"
+
+At that moment the monastery bell tolled the midday "Angelus." Don
+Aloysius bent his head--Morgana instinctively did the same. Within
+the building the deep voices of the brethren sounded, chanting,--
+
+     "Angelus Domini nuntiavit Maria Et concepit de Spiritu
+      sancto."
+
+As the salutation to heaven finished, the mellow music of the organ
+in the chapel sent a wave of solemn and prayerful tenderness on the
+air, and, moved by the emotion of the hour, Morgana's heart beat
+more quickly and tears filled her eyes.
+
+"There must be beautiful music in the Golden City!" she said.
+
+Don Aloysius smiled.
+
+"There is! And when the other things of life give you pause to
+listen, you will often hear it!"
+
+She smiled happily in response, and then, with a silent gesture of
+farewell, left the cloister and made her way to the chapel, part of
+which was kept open for public worship. It was empty, but the hidden
+organist was still playing. She went towards the High Altar and
+knelt in front of it. She was not of the Catholic faith,--she was
+truly of no faith at all save that which is taught by Science, which
+like a door opened in heaven shows all the wonders within,--but her
+keen sense of the beautiful was stirred by the solemn peace of the
+shut Tabernacle with the Cross above it, and the great lilies
+bending under their own weight of loveliness and fragrance on either
+side.
+
+"It is the Symbol of a great Truth which is true for all time"--she
+thought, as she clasped her hands in an attitude of prayer--"And how
+sad and strange it is to feel that there are thousands among its
+best-intentioned worshippers and priests who have not discovered its
+mystic meaning. The God in Man, born of purity in woman! Is it only
+in the Golden City that they know?"
+
+She raised her eyes in half unconscious appeal--and, as she did so,
+a brilliant Ray of light flashed downward from the summit of the
+Cross which surmounted the Altar, and remained extended slantwise
+towards her. She saw it,--and waited expectantly. Close to her ears
+a Voice spoke with extreme softness, yet very distinctly.
+
+"Can you hear me?"
+
+"Yes," she replied at once, with equal softness.
+
+"Then, listen! I have a message for you!"
+
+And Morgana listened,--listened intently,--the sapphire hue of the
+Ray lighting her gold hair, as she knelt, absorbed. What she heard
+filled her with a certain dread; and a tremor of premonition, like
+the darkness preceding storm, shook her nerves. But the inward
+spirit of her was as a warrior clothed in steel,--she was afraid of
+nothing--least of all of any event or incident passing for
+"supernatural," knowing beyond all doubt that the most seeming
+miraculous circumstances are all the result of natural movement and
+transmutation. There never had been anything surprising to her in
+the fact that light is a conveyor of sound; and that she was
+receiving a message by such means seemed no more extraordinary to
+her mind than receiving it by the accepted telephonic service. Every
+word spoken she heard with the closest attention--until--as though a
+cloud had suddenly covered it,--the "Sound-Ray" vanished, and the
+Voice ceased.
+
+She rose at once from her knees, alert and ready for action--her
+face was pale, her lips set, her eyes luminous.
+
+"I must not hesitate"--she said--"If I can save him I will!"
+
+She left the chapel and hurried home, where as soon as she reached
+her own private room she wrote to the Marchese Rivardi the following
+note, which was more than unpleasantly startling to him when he
+received it.
+
+"I shall need you and Gaspard for a long journey in the 'White
+Eagle.' Prepare everything in the way of provisioning and other
+necessary details. No time must be lost, and no expense need be
+spared. We must start as quickly as possible."
+
+This message written, sealed and dispatched by one of her servants
+to the Marchese's villa, she sat for some moments lost in thought,
+wistfully looking out on her flower-filled gardens and the
+shimmering blue of the Mediterranean beyond.
+
+"I may be too late!" she said, speaking aloud to herself--"But I
+will take the risk! He will not care--no!--a man like that cares for
+nothing but himself. He would have broken my life--(had I given him
+the chance!)--for the sake of an experiment. Now--if I can--I will
+rescue his for the sake of an ideal!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+
+"There shall be no more wars!--there CAN be none!"
+
+Roger Seaton said these words aloud with defiant emphasis,
+addressing the dumb sky. It was early morning, but an intense heat
+had so scorched the earth that not the smallest drop of dew
+glittered on any leaf or blade of grass; it was all arid, brown and
+burned into a dryness as of fever. But Seaton was far too much
+engrossed with himself and his own business to note the landscape,
+or to be troubled by the suffocating closeness of the atmosphere,--
+he stood gazing with the idolatry of a passionate lover at a small,
+plain metal case, containing a dozen or more small plain metal
+cylinders, as small as women's thimbles, all neatly ranged side by
+side, divided from contact with one another by folded strips of
+cotton.
+
+"There it is!" he went on, apostrophising the still air--"Complete,-
+-perfected! If I sold that to any nation under the sun, that nation
+could rule the world!--could wipe out everything save itself and its
+own people! I have wrested the secret from the very womb of Nature!-
+-it is mine--all mine! I would have given it to Britain--or to the
+United States--but neither will accept my terms--so therefore I hold
+it--I, only!--which is just as well! I--just I--am master of
+destiny!--the Power we call God, has put this tiling into my hands!
+What a marvel and shall I not use it? I will! Let Germany but stir
+an inch towards aggression, and Germany shall exist no longer!--The
+same with any other nation that starts a quarrel--I--I alone will
+settle it!"
+
+His eyes blazed with the light of fanaticism--he was obsessed by the
+force of his own ideas and schemes, and the metal case on the table
+before him was, to his mind, time, life, present and future. He had
+arrived at that questionable point of intellectual attainment when
+man forgets that there is any existing force capable of opposing
+him, and imagines that he has but to go on in his own way to grasp
+all worlds and the secrets of their being. At this juncture, so
+often arrived at by many, a kind of super-sureness sets in,
+persuading the finite nature that it has reached the infinite. The
+whole mental organisation of the man thrilled with an awful
+consciousness of power. He said within himself "I hold the lives of
+millions at my mercy!"
+
+Other thoughts--other dreams had passed away for the moment--he had
+forgotten life as it presents itself to the ordinary human being.
+Now and again a flitting vision of Morgana vaguely troubled him,--
+her intellectual capacity annoyed him, and yet he would have been
+glad to discuss with her the scientific unfolding of his great
+secret--she would understand it in all its bearings,--she might
+advise--Advice!--no!--he did not need the advice of a woman! As for
+Manella, he had not seen her since her last violent outburst of what
+he called "temper"--and he had no wish for her presence. For now he
+had a thing to do which was of paramount importance,--and this was,
+to deposit the treasured discovery of his life in a secret hiding-
+place he had found for it, till he should be ready to remove it to
+safer quarters--or--TILL HE RESOLVED TO USE IT. Had he been a
+religious man, of such humility as should accompany true religion,
+he would have prayed that its use should never be called upon,--but
+he had trained himself into an attitude of such complete
+indifferentism towards life and the things of life, that to him it
+seemed useless to pray for what did not matter. Sometimes the
+thought, appalling in its truth, flashed across his brain that the
+force he had discovered and condensed within small compass might as
+easily destroy half the world as a nation! The fabled thunderbolts
+of Jove were child's play compared with those plain-looking,
+thimble-like cylinders which contained such terrific power! A touch
+of hesitation--of pure human dread affected his nerves for the
+moment,--he shivered in the sultry air as with cold, and looked
+about him right and left as though suspecting some hidden witness of
+his actions. There was not so much as a bird or a butterfly in
+sight, and he drew a long deep breath of relief. The day was
+treading in the steps of dawn with the full blazonry of burning
+Californian sunlight, and away in the distance the ridges and peaks
+of distant mountains stood out sharply clear against the intense
+blue of the sky. There was great stillness everywhere,--a pause, as
+it seemed, in the mechanism of the universe. The twitter of a bird
+or the cry of some wild animal would have been a relief,--so Seaton
+felt, though accustomed to deep silence.
+
+"Better get through with this at once"--he said, aloud--"Now that a
+safe place is prepared." Here he looked at his watch. "In a couple
+of hours they will be sending up from the Plaza to know if I want
+anything--Irish Jake or Manilla will be coming on some trivial
+matter--I'd better take the opportunity of complete secrecy while I
+can."
+
+For the next few minutes or so he hesitated. With the sudden fancy
+that he had forgotten something, he turned out his pockets, looking
+for he scarcely knew what. The contents were mixed and various, and
+among them was a crumpled letter which he had received some days
+since from Sam Gwent. He smoothed it out carefully and re-read it,
+especially one passage--
+
+"I think the States will never get involved in another war, but I am
+fairly sure Germany will. If she joins up with Russia look out for
+squalls. In your old country, which appears to be peopled by madmen,
+there's a writing chap who spent a fortnight in Russia, not long
+enough to know the ins and outs of a village, yet assuming to know
+everything about the biggest territory in Europe, and the press is
+puffing up his ignorance as if it were wisdom. Germany has her
+finger on the spot--so perhaps your stuff will come in useful. But
+don't forget that if you make up your mind to use it you will ruin
+America, commercially speaking. And many other countries besides. So
+think it well over,--more than a hundred times! Lydia Herbert, whom
+perhaps you remember, and perhaps you don't, has caught her 'ancient
+mariner'--that is to say, her millionaire,--and all fashionable New
+York is going to the wedding, including yours truly. I had expected
+Morgana Royal to grace the function, but I hear she is quite
+engrossed with the decoration and furnishing of her Sicilian palace,
+as well as with her advising artist, a very good-looking Marquis or
+Marchese as he is called. It is also whispered that she has invented
+a wonderful air-ship which has no engines, and creates its own
+motive power as it goes! Sounds rather tall talk!--but this is an
+age of wonders and we never know what next. There is a new Light Ray
+just out which prospects for gold, oil and all ores and minerals,
+and finds them in a fifty-mile circuit--so probably nobody need be
+poor for the future. When we've all got most things we want, and
+there's nothing left to work for, I wonder what the world will be
+worth!"
+
+Seaton left off reading and thrust the letter again in his pocket.
+
+"What will the world be worth?" he soliloquised--"Why, nothing!"
+
+Suddenly struck by this thought, which had not always presented
+itself with such sharp and clear precision as now, he took time to
+consider it. Capital and Labour, the two forces which are much more
+prone to rend each other than to co-operate--these would both
+possibly be non-existent if Science had its full way. If gold,
+silver and other precious minerals could be "picked up" as on the
+fabled Tom Tiddler's ground, by a ray of light, then the striving
+for wealth would cease and work would be reduced to a minimum. The
+prospect was stupendous, but hardly entirely pleasing. If there were
+no need for effort, then the powers of mind and body would sink into
+inertia.
+
+"What object should we live for?" he mused--"Merely to propagate our
+own kind and bring more effortless beings into the world to cumber
+it? The very idea is horrible! Work is the very blood and bone of
+existence--without it we should rot! But one must work for something
+or some one--wife?--children?--Useless labour!--for in nine cases
+out often the wife becomes a bore,--and the children grow up
+ungrateful. Why waste strength and feeling on either?"
+
+Thus mentally arguing, the exquisite lines of Tennyson's "Lotus
+Eaters" suddenly rang in his memory like a chime of bells from the
+old English village where he had lived as a boy, when his mother,
+one of the past sweet "old-fashioned" women, used to read to him and
+teach him much of the best in literature,--
+
+    "Death is the end of life; ah, why
+     Should life all labour be?
+     Let us alone. Time driveth onward fast
+     And in a little while our lips are dumb,
+     Let us alone. What is it that will last?
+     All things are taken from us and become
+     Portions and parcels of the dreadful Past,
+     Let us alone. What pleasure can we have
+     To war with evil? Is there any peace
+     In ever climbing up the climbing wave?"
+
+An effortless existence would be the existence of such as these
+fabled Lotus Eaters--moreover, it was not possible it could go on,
+since all Nature shows effort without cessation. Roger Seaton knew
+this as all know it--but his soul's demand remained unsatisfied, for
+he sought to know the CAUSE of all the toil and trouble,--the "why"
+it should be. And at the back of his mind there was ever a teasing
+reminder of Morgana and her strange theories, some of which she had
+half imparted to him when their friendship had first begun. For her
+Tennyson's line--"Death is the end of life"--would be the statement
+of a foolish fallacy, as she held that there is no such thing as
+death, only failure to adapt the spirit to advancing and higher
+change in its physical organisation. To-day he remembered with
+curious clearness what she had said on this subject--
+
+"Radio-activity is the chief secret of life. It is for us to learn
+how to absorb it into our systems as we grow,--to add by its means
+to our supplies of vitality and energy. It never gives out,--nor
+should we. The Nature-intention is that we should become better,
+stronger, more beautiful, more mentally and spiritually perfect--and
+that we do not fulfil this intention is our own fault. The
+decimation of the human race by wars and plagues and famines has
+always been traceable to human error. All accidents happen through
+those who make accidents possible,--diseases are bred through human
+dirt, greed, ignorance, and neglect. They are no part of the divine
+scheme of things. The plan is to advance and make progress from one
+point of excellence to another,--not to stop half way and turn back
+on the road. Humanity dies, because it will not learn how to live."
+
+She had spoken these words with a quiet simplicity and earnestness
+that impressed him at the time as being almost child-like,
+considering the depth of thought into which she must have plunged,
+notwithstanding her youth and her sex--and on this morning of all
+others, this morning on which he had set himself a task for which he
+had made long and considerable preparation, he found himself half
+mechanically repeating her phrase--"Humanity dies because it will
+not learn how to live."
+
+There was no fatalism,--no fixed destiny in this; only the force of
+Will was implied--the Will to learn,--the Will to know.
+
+"And why should not humanity die?" he argued within himself--"If, in
+the long course of ages, it is proved that it will neither learn nor
+know,--why should it remain? Room should be made for a new race! A
+clever gardener can produce a perfectly beautiful flower from an
+insignificant and common weed,--surely this is a lesson to us that
+it may be possible to produce a god from a man!"
+
+He bent his eyes lovingly on the case of small cylinders lying open
+before him;--the just risen sun brightened them to a glitter as of
+cold steel,--and for a moment he fancied they flashed upon him with
+an almost sinister gleam.
+
+"Power of good or power of evil?" he questioned his inward spirit--
+"Who can decide? If it is good to destroy evil then the force is a
+good force--if it is evil to destroy good WITH evil, then it is an
+evil thing. But Nature makes no such particular discriminations--she
+destroys evil and good together at one blow. Why therefore should I-
+-or anyone--offer to discriminate?--since evil is always the
+preponderating factor. When the 'Lusitania' was torpedoed neither
+God nor Nature interfered to save the innocent from the guilty--men,
+women and children were all plunged into the pitiless sea. I--as a
+part of Nature--if I destroy, I only follow her example. War is an
+evil,--an abominable crime--and those that attempt to make it should
+be swept from the face of the earth even if good and peace-loving
+units are swept along with them. This cannot be helped."
+
+He went into his hut, and in a few minutes came out again clothed in
+thick garments of a dark, earth colour, and carrying a stout staff,
+steel-pointed at its end something after the fashion of a Swiss
+alpenstock. He brought with him a small metal box into which he
+placed the case of cylinders, covering it with a closely fitting
+lid. Then he put the package into a basket made of rough twigs and
+strips of bark, having a strong handle, to which he fastened a
+leather strap, and slung the whole thing over his shoulders like a
+knapsack. Then, casting another look round to make sure that there
+was no one about, he started to walk towards a steeper descent of
+the hill in a totally different direction from that which led to the
+"Plaza" hotel. He went swiftly, at a steady swinging pace,--and
+though his way took him among confused masses of rock, and fallen
+boulders, he thought nothing of these obstacles, vaulting lightly
+across them with the ease of a chamois, till he came to a point
+where there was a declivity running sheer down to invisible depths,
+from whence came the rumbling echo of falling water. In this almost
+perpendicular wall of rock were a few ledges, like the precarious
+rungs of a broken ladder, and down these he prepared to go. Clinging
+at first to the topmost edge of the precipice, he let himself down
+warily inch by inch till his figure entirely disappeared, sunken, as
+it were in darkness. As he vanished there was a sudden cry--a rush
+as of wings--and a woman sprang up from amid bushes where she had
+lain hidden,--it was Manella. For days and nights she had stolen
+away in the intervals of her work, to watch him--and nothing had
+chanced to excite her alarm till now--till now, when she had seen
+him emerge from his hut and pack up the mysterious box he carried,--
+and when she had heard him talking strangely to himself in a way she
+could not understand.
+
+As soon as he started to walk she followed him, pushing through
+heavy brushwood and crawling along the ground where she could not be
+seen;--and now,--with dishevelled hair, and staring, terrified eyes
+she leaned over the edge of the precipice, baffled and desperate.
+Tearless sobs convulsed her throat,--
+
+"Oh, God of mercy!" she moaned in suffocated accents--"How can I
+follow him down there! Oh, help me, Mary mother! Help me! I must--I
+must be with him!"
+
+She gathered up her hair in a close coil and wound her skirts
+tightly about her, looking everywhere for a footing. She saw a deep
+cranny which had been hollowed out by some torrent of water--it cut
+sharply through the rock like a path,--she could risk that perhaps,
+she thought,--and yet her brain reeled--she felt sick and giddy--
+would it not be wiser to stay where she was and wait for the return
+of the reckless creature who had ventured all alone into one of the
+deepest canons of the whole country? While she hesitated she caught
+a sudden glimpse of him, stepping with apparent ease over huge heaps
+of stones and fallen pieces of rock at the bottom of the declivity,-
+-she watched his movements in breathless suspense. On he went
+towards a vast aperture, shaped arch-wise like the entrance to a
+cavern--he paused a moment--then entered it. This was enough for
+Manella--her wild love and wilder terror gave her an almost
+supernatural strength and daring,--and all heedless now of results
+she sprang boldly towards the deep cutting in the rock, swinging
+herself from jagged point to point till--reaching the bottom of the
+declivity at last, bruised and bleeding, but undaunted,--she
+stopped, checked by a rushing stream which tumbled over great
+boulders and dashed its cold spray in her face. Looking about her
+she saw to her dismay that the vaulted cavern wherein Seaton had
+disappeared was on the other side of this stream--she stood almost
+opposite to it--but how to get across? Gazing despairingly in every
+direction she suddenly perceived the fallen trunk of a tree lying
+half in and half out of the brawling torrent--it was green with
+slippery moss and offered but a dangerous foothold,--nevertheless
+she resolved to attempt it.
+
+"I said I would die for him I" she thought--"and I will!"
+
+Getting astride the tree, it swayed under her,--but she found she
+could push one of the larger boughs forward to lengthen the
+extemporary bridge,--and so, as it were, riding the waters, which
+surged noisily around her, she managed by dint of super-human effort
+to reach the projection of pebbly shore where the entrance to the
+cavern yawned open before her, black and desolate. The sun in its
+full morning glory blazed slanting down upon the darkness of the
+canon, and as she stood shivering, wet through and utterly
+exhausted, wondering what next she should do, she caught sight of a
+form moving within the cave like a moving shadow, and ascending a
+steep natural stairway of columnar rocks piled one on top of the
+other. Affrighted as she was by the tomb-like aspect of the deep
+vault, she had not ventured so far that she should now shrink from
+further dangers or fail in her quest;--the cherished object of her
+constant watchful care was within that subterranean blackness,--for
+what purpose?--she did not dare to think! But there was an
+instinctive sense of dread foreknowledge upon her,--a warning of
+impending evil,--and had she not sworn to him--"If God struck you
+down to hell I would be there!" The entrance to the cavern looked
+like the mouth of hell itself, as she had seen it depicted in one of
+her Catholic early lesson books. There were serpents and dragons in
+the picture ready to devour the impenitent sinner,--there might be
+serpents and dragons in this cave, for all she knew! But what
+matter? If the man she loved were actually in hell she "would be
+there"--as she had said!--and would surely find it Heaven! And so,--
+seeing the mere outline of his form moving ghost-like in the gloom,
+it was to her a guiding presence,--a light amid darkness,--and
+when,--after a minute or two--her straining eyes perceived him
+climbing steadily up the steep and perilous rocks, seeming about to
+disappear altogether,--she mastered the tremor of her nerves and
+crept cautiously step by step into the sombre vault, blindly feeling
+her way through the damp, thick murkiness, reckless of all danger,
+and only bent on following him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+
+Of all the vagaries and humours of humanity when considered in
+crowds, there is nothing which appears more senseless and objectless
+than the way in which it congregates outside the door of a church at
+a fashionable or "society" wedding. The massed people pushing and
+shoving each other about have nothing whatever to do with either
+bride or bridegroom, the ceremony inside the sacred edifice has in
+most cases ceased to be a "sacrament"--and has become a mere show of
+dressed-up manikins and womenkins, many of the latter being mere
+OBJECT D'ART,--stands for the display of millinery. And yet--the
+crowds fight and jostle,--women scramble and scream,--all to catch a
+glimpse of the woman who is to be given to the man, and the man who
+has agreed to accept the woman. The wealthier the pair the wilder
+the frenzy to gaze upon them. Savages performing a crazy war-dance
+are decorous of behaviour in contrast with these "civilised" folk
+who tramp on each other's feet and are ready to squeeze each other
+into pulp for the chance of staring at two persons whom the majority
+of them have never seen before and are not likely to see again. The
+wedding of Miss Lydia Herbert with her "ancient mariner," a seventy-
+year-old millionaire reputed to be as wealthy as Rockefeller,--was
+one of these "sensations"--chiefly on account of the fact that every
+unmarried woman young and old, and every widow, had been hunting him
+in vain for fully five years. Miss Herbert had been voted "no
+chance," because she made no secret of her extravagant tastes in
+dress and jewels,--yet despite society croakers she had won the
+game. This in itself was interesting,--as the millionaire she had
+secured was known to be particularly close-fisted and parsimonious.
+Nevertheless he had shown remarkable signs of relaxing these
+tendencies; for he had literally showered jewels on his chosen
+bride, leaving no door open for any complaint in that quarter. Her
+diamonds were the talk of New York, and on the day of her wedding
+her gowns literally flashed like a firework with numerous dazzling
+points of light. "The Voice that breathed o'er Eden" had little to
+do with the magnificence of her attire, or with the brilliancy of
+the rose-wreathed bridesmaids, young girls of specially selected
+beauty and elegance who were all more or less disappointed in
+failing to win the millionaire themselves. For these youthful
+persons in their 'teens had social ambitions hidden in hearts harder
+than steel--"a good time" of self-indulgence and luxury was all they
+sought for in life--in fact, they had no conception of any higher
+ideal. The millionaire himself, though old, maintained a fairly
+middle-aged appearance--he was a thin, wiry, well-preserved man, his
+wizened and furrowed countenance chiefly showing the marks of Time's
+ploughshare. It would have been difficult to say why, out of all the
+feminine butterflies hovering around him, he had chosen Lydia
+Herbert,--but he was a shrewd judge of character in his way, and he
+had decided that as she was not in her first youth it would be more
+worth her while to conduct herself decorously as wife and
+housekeeper, and generally look after his health and comfort, than
+it would be for a less responsible woman. Then, she had "manner,"--
+her appearance was attractive and she wore her clothes well and
+stylishly. All this was enough for a man who wanted some one to
+attend to his house and entertain his friends, and he was perfectly
+satisfied with himself as he repeated after the clergyman the words,
+"With my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee
+endow," knowing that "with his body" he had never worshipped
+anything, and that the "endowment" of his worldly goods was strictly
+limited to certain settlements. He felt himself to be superior to
+his old bachelor friend Sam Gwent, who supported him as "best man"
+at the ceremony, and who, as he stood, stiffly upright in immaculate
+"afternoon visiting attire" among the restlessly swaying, semi-
+whispering throng, was all the time thinking of the dusky night-
+gloom in the garden of the "Plaza" far away in California and a
+beautiful face set against the dark background of myrtle bushes
+exhaling rich perfume.
+
+"What a startling contrast she would be to these dolls of fashion!"
+he thought--"What a sensation she would make! There's not a woman
+here who can compare with her! If I were only a bit younger I'd try
+my luck!--anyway I'm younger than to-day's bridegroom!--but she--
+Manella--would never look at any other man than Seaton, who doesn't
+care a rap for her or any other woman!" Here his thoughts took
+another turn.
+
+"No," he repeated inwardly--"He doesn't care a rap for her or any
+other woman--except--perhaps--Morgana! And even if it were Morgana,
+it would be for himself and himself alone! While she--ah!--it would
+be a clever brain indeed that could worry out what SHE cares for!
+Nothing in this world, so far as I can see!"
+
+Here the organ poured the rich strains of a soft and solemn prelude
+through the crowded church--the "sacred" part of the ceremony was
+over, and bride and bridegroom made their way to the vestry, there
+to sign the register in the presence of a selected group of friends.
+Sam Gwent was one of these,--and though he had attended many such
+functions before, he was more curiously impressed than usual by the
+unctuous and barefaced hypocrisy of the whole thing--the smiling
+humbug of the officiating clergy,--the affected delight of the
+"society" toadies fluttering like wasps round bride and bride-groom
+as though they were sweet dishes specially for stinging insects to
+feed upon, and in his mind he seemed to hear the warm, passionate
+voice of Manella in frank admission of her love for Seaton.
+
+"It is good to love him!" she had said--"I am happy to love him. I
+wish only to serve him!"
+
+This was primitive passion,--the passion of primitive woman for her
+mate whom she admitted to be stronger than herself, to whom she
+instinctively looked for shelter and protection, and round whose
+commanding force she sought to rear the lovely fabric of "Home,"--a
+state of feeling as far removed from the sentiments of modern women
+as the constellation of Orion is removed from earth. And Sam Gwent's
+fragmentary reflections flitting through his brain were more
+serious--one might say more romantic, than the consideration of
+dollars, which usually occupied all his faculties. He had always
+thought that there was a good deal in life which he had missed
+somehow, and which dollars could not purchase; and a certain irate
+contempt filled him for the man who, unlike himself, was in the
+prime of strength, and who, with all the glories of Nature about him
+and the love and beauty of an exquisite womanhood at his hand for
+possession, could nevertheless devote his energies to the science of
+destruction and the compassing of death without compunction, on the
+lines Roger Seaton had laid down as the remedy against all war.
+
+"The kindest thing to think of him is that he's not quite sane,"--
+Gwent mused--"He has been obsessed by the horrible carnage of the
+Great War, and disgusted by the utter inefficiency of Governments
+since the armistice, and this appalling invention of his is the
+result."
+
+The crashing chords of the Bridal March from "Lohengrin" put an end
+to his thoughts for the moment,--people began to crush and push out
+of church, or stand back on each other's toes to stare at the
+bride's diamonds as she moved very slowly and gracefully down the
+aisle on the arm of her elderly husband. She certainly looked very
+well,--and her smile suggested entire satisfaction with herself and
+the world. Press-camera men clambered about wherever they could find
+a footing, to catch and perpetuate that smile, which when enlarged
+and reproduced in newspapers would depict the grinning dental
+display so much associated with Woodrow Wilson and the Prince of
+Wales,--though more suggestive of a skull than anything else. Skulls
+invariably show their teeth, we know--but it has been left to the
+modern press-camera man to insist on the death-grin in faces that
+yet live. The crowd outside the church was far denser than the crowd
+within, and the fighting and scrambling for points of view became
+terrific, especially when the wedding guests' motor-cars began to
+make their way, with sundry hoots and snorts, through the densely
+packed mob. Women screamed,--some fainted--but none thought of
+giving way to others, or retiring from the wild scene of contest.
+Gwent judged it wisest to remain within the church portal till the
+crowd should clear, and there, safely ensconced, he watched the
+maddened mass of foolish sight-seers, all of whom had plainly left
+their daily avocations merely to stare at a man and woman wedded,
+with whom, personally, they had nothing whatever to do.
+
+"People talk about unemployment!" he mused--"There's enough human
+material in this one street to make wealth for themselves and the
+whole community, yet they are idle by their own choice. If they had
+anything to do they wouldn't be here!"
+
+He laughed grimly,--the utter stodginess and stupidity of humanity
+EN MASSE had of late struck him very forcibly, and he found every
+excuse for the so-called incapacity of Governments, seeing the kind
+of folk they are called upon to govern. He realised, as we all who
+read history, must do, that we are no worse and no better than the
+peoples of the past,--we are just as hypocritical, fraudulent,
+deceptive and cruel as ever they were in legalised torture-times,
+and just as ineradicably selfish. The pagans practised a religion
+which they did not truly believe in, and so do we. All through the
+ages God has been mocked;--all through the ages Divine vengeance has
+fallen on the mockers and the mockery.
+
+"And after all," thought Gwent--"wars are as necessary as plagues to
+clear out a superabundant population, only most unfortunately Nature
+adopts such recklessness in her methods that it most often happens
+the best among us are taken, and the worst left. I tried to impress
+this on Seaton, whose system of destruction would involve the good
+as well as the bad--but these intellectual monsters of scientific
+appetite have no conscience and no sentiment. To prove their
+theories they would annihilate a continent."
+
+Here a sudden ugly rush of the crowd, dangerous to both life and
+limb, pushed him back against the church portal with the force of a
+tidal wave,--it was not concerned with the bridal pair who had
+already driven away in their automobile, nor with the wedding guests
+who were following them to the great hotel where the bride's
+reception was held--it was caused by the wild dash of half a dozen
+or so of unkempt men and boys who tore a passage for themselves
+through the swaying mob of sightseers, waving newspapers aloft and
+shouting loudly with voices deep and shrill, clear and hoarse--
+
+"Earthquake in California! Terrible loss of life! Thousands dead!
+Awful scenes! Earthquake in California!"
+
+The people swayed again--then stopped in massed groups,--some
+clutching at the newsboys as they ran and buying the papers as fast
+as they could be sold, while all the time above the muffled roar of
+the city they sent their cries aloft, echoing near and far--
+
+"Thousands dead! Awful scenes! Towns destroyed! Terrible Earthquake
+in California!"
+
+Sam Gwent stepped out from the church portal, elbowing his way
+through the confusion,--the yells of the news vendors rang sharply
+in his ears and yet for the moment he scarcely grasped their
+meaning; "California" was the one word that caught him, as it were,
+with a hammer stroke,--then "Thousands dead!" Finding at last an
+open passage through the dispersing crowd, he went at something of a
+run after one of the newsboys, and snatched the last paper he had to
+sell out of his hand.
+
+"What is it?" he demanded as he paid his money.
+
+"Dunno!" the boy replied, breathlessly--"'Xpect everybody's dead
+down California way!"
+
+Gwent unfolded the journal and stared at the great headlines,
+printed in fat black letters, still smelling strongly of printer's
+ink.
+
+Appalling Earthquake In California!--Mountain Upheaval!--Towns Wiped
+Out!--Plaza Hotel Engulfed!--Frightful Loss of Life!
+
+His eyes grew dim and dazzled--his brain swam,--he gazed up
+unseeingly at the blue sky, the tall "sky-scraper" houses, the sweep
+of human and vehicular traffic around him; and to his excited fancy
+the beautiful face of Manella came, like a phantom, between him and
+all else that was presented to his vision--that face warm and
+glowing with woman's tenderness--the splendid dark eyes aflame with
+love for a man whose indifference to her only strengthened her
+adoration and he seemed to hear the deep defiant voice of Roger
+Seaton ringing in his ears--
+
+"Annihilation! A holocaust of microbes! I would--and could--wipe
+them off the face of the earth in twenty-four hours!" He could--and
+would!
+
+"And by Heaven," said Gwent, within himself--"He's done it!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+
+Struck by the hand of God! So men say when, after denying God's
+existence ail their lives, the seeming solid earth heaves up like a
+ship on a storm-billow, dragging down in its deep recoil their lives
+and habitations. An earthquake! Its irresistible rise and fall makes
+human beings more powerless than insects,--their houses and
+possessions have less stability than the spider's web which swings
+its frail threads across broken columns in greater safety than any
+man-made bridge of stone,--and terror, mad, hopeless, helpless
+terror, possesses every creature brought face to face with the dire
+cruelty of natural forces, which from the very beginning have played
+havoc with struggling mankind. Struck by the hand of God!--and with
+a merciless blow! All the sunny plains and undulating hills of the
+beautiful stretch of land in Southern California, in the centre of
+which the "Plaza" hotel and sanatorium had stood, were now
+unrecognisable,--the earth was torn asunder and thrown into vast
+heaps--great rocks and boulders were tumbled over each other pell-
+mell in appalling heights of confusion, and, for miles around,
+towns, camps and houses were laid in ruins. The scene was one of
+absolute horror,--there was no language to express or describe it--
+no word of hope or comfort that could be fitly used to lighten the
+blackness of despair and loss. Gangs of men were at relief work as
+soon as they could be summoned, and these busied themselves in
+extricating the dead, and rescuing the dying whose agonised cries
+and moans reproached the Power that made them for such an end,--and
+perhaps as terrible as any other sound was the savage roar and rush
+of a loosened torrent which came tearing furiously down from the
+cleft hills to the lower land, through the great canon beyond the
+site where the Plaza had stood,--a canon which had become enormously
+widened by the riving and the rending of the rocks, thus giving free
+passage to wild waters that had before been imprisoned in a narrow
+gorge. The persistent rush of the flood filled every inch of space
+with sound of an awful, even threatening character, suggesting
+further devastation and death. The men engaged in their dreadful
+task of lifting crushed corpses from under the stones that had
+fallen upon them, were almost overcome and rendered incapable of
+work by the appalling clamour, which was sufficient to torture the
+nerves of the strongest; and some of them, sickened at the frightful
+mutilation of the bodies they found gave up altogether and dropped
+from sheer fatigue and exhaustion into unconsciousness, despite the
+heroic encouragement of their director, a man well used to great
+emergencies. Late afternoon found him still organising and
+administering aid, with the assistance of two or three Catholic
+priests who went about seeking to comfort and sustain those who were
+passing "the line between." All the energetic helpers were prepared
+to work all night, delving into the vast suddenly made grave wherein
+were tumbled the living with the dead,--and it was verging towards
+sunset when one of the priests, chancing to raise his eyes from the
+chaos of earth around him to the clear and quiet sky, saw what at
+first he took to be a great eagle with outspread wings soaring
+slowly above the scene of devastation. It moved with singular
+lightness and ease,--now and then appearing to pause as though
+seeking some spot whereon to descend,--and after watching it for a
+minute or two he called the attention of some of the men around him
+to its appearance. They looked up wearily from their gruesome task
+of excavating the dead.
+
+"That's an air-ship"--said one--"and a big thing, too!"
+
+"An air-ship!" echoed the priest amazedly,--and then was silent,
+gazing at the shining expanse of sky through which the bird-shaped
+vessel made its leisurely way like the vision of a fairy tale more
+than any reality. There was something weirdly terrible in the
+contrast it made, moving so tranquilly through clear space in
+apparent safety, while down below on the so-called "solid" earth,
+all nature had been convulsed and overthrown. The wonderful result
+of human ingenuity as measured with the remorseless action of
+natural forces seemed too startling to be real to the mind of a
+Spanish priest who, despite all the evidences of triumphant
+materialism, still clung to the Cross and kept his simple, faithful
+soul high above the waves that threatened to engulf it. Turning anew
+to his melancholy duties, he bent over a dying youth just lifted
+from beneath a weight of stones that had crushed him. The boy's fast
+glazing eyes were upturned to the sky.
+
+"See the angel coming?" he whispered, thickly--"Never used to
+believe in them!--but there's one sure enough! Glory--!" and his
+utterance ceased for ever.
+
+The priest crossed his hands upon his breast and said a prayer--then
+again looked up to where the air-ship floated in the darkening blue.
+It was now directly over the canon,--immediately above the huge rift
+made by the earthquake, through which the clamorous rush of water
+poured. While he watched it, it suddenly stood still, then dived
+slowly as though bent on descending into the very depths of the
+gully. He could not forbear uttering an exclamation, which made all
+the men about him look in the direction where his own gaze was
+fixed.
+
+"That air-ship's going to kingdom-come!" said one--"Nothing can save
+it if it takes to nose-diving down there!"
+
+They all stared amazed--but the dreadful work on which they were
+engaged left them no time for consideration of any other matter. The
+priest watched a few minutes longer, more or less held spell-bound
+with a kind of terror, for he saw that without doubt the great
+vessel was either purposely descending or being drawn into the vast
+abyss yawning black beneath it, and that falling thus it must be
+inevitably doomed to destruction. Whoever piloted it must surely be
+determined to invite this frightful end to its voyage, for nothing
+was ever steadier or more resolute than its downward movement
+towards the whirling waters that rushed through the canon. All
+suddenly it disappeared, whelmed as it seemed in darkness and the
+roaring flood, and the watching priest made the sign of the cross in
+air murmuring--
+
+"God have mercy on their souls!"
+
+Had he been able to see what happened he might have thought that the
+confused brain of the dying boy who had imagined the air-ship to be
+an angel, was not so far wrong, for no romancer or teller of wild
+tales could have pictured a stranger or more unearthly sight than
+the wonderful "White Eagle" poised at ease amid the tossed-up clouds
+of spray flung from the seething mass of waters, while at her prow
+stood a woman fair as any fabled goddess--a woman reckless of all
+danger, and keenly on the alert, with bright eyes searching every
+nook and cranny that could be discerned through the mist. Clear
+above the roaring torrent her voice rang like a silver trumpet as
+she called her instructions to the two men who, equally defying
+every peril, had ventured on this journey at her command,--Rivardi
+and Gaspard.
+
+"Let her down very gently inch by inch!" she cried; "It must be here
+that we should seek!"
+
+In absolute silence they obeyed. Both had given themselves up for
+lost and were resigned and ready to meet death at any moment. From
+the first they had made no effort to resist Morgana's orders--she
+and they had left Sicily at a couple of hours' notice--and their
+three days' journey across the ocean had been accomplished without
+adventure or accident, at such a speed that it was hardly to be
+thought of without a thrill of horror. No information had been given
+them as to the object of their long and rapid aerial voyage,--and
+only now when the "White Eagle," swooping over California, reached
+the scene of the terrific devastation wrought by the earthquake did
+they begin to think they had submitted their wills and lives to the
+caprice of a madwoman. However, there was no drawing back,--nothing
+for it but still to obey,--for even in the stress and terror
+naturally excited by their amazing position, they did not fail to
+see that the great air-ship was steadily controlled, and that
+whatever was the force controlling it, it maintained its level, its
+mysterious vibrating discs still throbbing with vital and incessant
+regularity. Apparently nothing could disturb its equilibrium or
+shatter its mechanism. And, according to its woman-designer's
+command, they lowered it gently till it was, so to say, almost
+immersed in the torrent and covered with spray--indeed Morgana's
+light figure itself at the prow looked like a fair spirit risen from
+the waters rather than any form of flesh and blood, so wreathed and
+transfigured it was by the dust of the ceaseless foam. She stood
+erect, bent on a quest that seemed hopeless, watching every eddying
+curve of water,--every flickering ripple,--her eyes, luminous as
+stars, searched the black and riven rocks with an eager passion of
+discovery,--when all suddenly as she gazed, a thin ray of light,--
+pure gold in colour,--struck sharply like a finger-point on a
+shallow pool immediately below her. She looked and uttered a cry,
+beckoning to Rivardi.
+
+"Come! Come!"
+
+He hurried to her side, Gaspard following. The pool on which her
+eyes were fixed was shallow enough to show the pebbly bed beneath
+the water--and there lay apparently two corpses--one of a man, the
+other of a woman whose body was half flung across that of the man.
+
+Morgana pointed to them.
+
+"They must be brought up here!" she said, insistently--"You must
+lift them! We have emergency ropes and pulleys--it is easily done!
+Why do you hesitate?"
+
+"Because you demand the impossible!" said Rivardi--"You send us to
+death to rescue the already dead!"
+
+She turned upon him with wrath in her eyes.
+
+"You refuse to obey me?"
+
+What a face confronted him! White as marble, and as terrible in
+expression as that of a Medusa, it had a paralysing effect on his
+nerves, and he shrank and trembled at her glance.
+
+"You refuse to obey me?" she repeated--"Then--if you do--I destroy
+this air-ship and ourselves in less than two minutes! Choose! Obey,
+and live!--disobey and die!"
+
+He staggered back from her in terror at her looks, which gave her a
+supernatural beauty and authority. The "fey" woman was "fey"
+indeed!--and the powers with which superstition endows the fairy
+folk seemed now to invest her with irresistible influence.
+
+"Choose!" she reiterated.
+
+Without another word he turned to Gaspard, who in equal silence got
+out the ropes and pulleys of which she had spoken. The air-ship
+stopped dead--suspended immovably over the wild waters and almost
+hidden in spray; and though the strange vibration of its
+multitudinous discs continued in itself it was fixed as a rock. A
+smile sweet as sunshine after storm changed and softened Morgana's
+features as she saw Rivardi swing over the vessel's side to the pool
+below, while Gaspard unwound the gear by which he would be able to
+lift and support the drowned creatures he was bidden to bring,
+
+"That's a true noble!" she exclaimed--"I knew your courage would not
+fail! Believe me, no harm shall come to you!"
+
+Inspirited by her words, he flung himself down--and raising the body
+of the woman first, was entangled by the wet thick strands of her
+long dark hair which, like sea-weed, caught about his feet and hands
+and impeded his movements. He had time just to see a face white as
+marble under the hair,--then he had enough to do to fasten ropes
+round the body and push it upward while Gaspard pulled--both men
+doubting whether the weight of it would not alter the balance of the
+air-ship despite its extraordinary fixity of position. Morgana,
+bending over from the vessel, watched every action,--she showed
+neither alarm nor impatience nor anxiety--and when Gaspard said
+suddenly--
+
+"It is easier than I thought it would be!" she merely smiled as if
+she knew. Another few moments and the drowned woman's body was
+hauled into the cabin of the ship, where Morgana knelt down beside
+it. Parting the heavy masses of dark hair that enshrouded it she
+looked--and saw what she had expected to see--the face of Manella
+Soriso. But it was the death-mask of a face--strangely beautiful--
+but awful in its white rigidity. Morgana bent over it anxiously, but
+only for a moment, drawing a small phial from her bosom she forced a
+few drops of the liquid it contained between the set lips, and with
+a tiny syringe injected the same at the pulseless wrist and throat.
+While she busied herself with these restorative measures, the second
+body,--that of the man,--was landed almost at her feet--and she
+found herself gazing in a sort of blank stupefaction at what seemed
+to be the graven image of Roger Seaton. No effigy of stone ever
+looked colder, harder, greyer than this inert figure of man,--
+uninjured apparently, for there were no visible marks of wounds or
+bruises upon his features, which appeared frozen into stiff
+rigidity, but a man as surely dead as death could make him! Morgana
+heard, as in a far-off dream, the Marchese Rivardi speaking--
+
+"I have done your bidding because it was you who bade,"--he said,
+his voice shaking with the tremor and excitement of his daring
+effort--"And it was not so very difficult. But it is a vain rescue!
+They are past recall."
+
+Morgana looked up from her awed contemplation of Seaton's rigid
+form. Her eyes were heavy with unshed tears.
+
+"I think not,"--she said--"There is life in them--yes, there is
+life, though for the time it is paralysed. But"--here she gave him
+the loveliest smile of tenderness--"You brave Giulio!--you are
+exhausted and wet through--attend to yourself first--then you can
+help me with these unhappy ones--and you Gaspard,--Gaspard!"
+
+"Here, Madama!"
+
+"You have done so well!" she said--"Without fear or failure!"
+
+"Only by God's mercy!" answered Gaspard--"If the rope had broken; if
+the ship had lost balance--"
+
+She smiled.
+
+"So many 'ifs' Gaspard? Have I not told you it CANNOT lose balance?
+And are not my words proved true? Now we have finished our rescue
+work we may go--we can start at once--"
+
+He looked at her.
+
+"There is more weight on board!" he said meaningly, "If we are to
+carry two dead bodies through the air, it may mean a heavenly
+funeral for all of us! The 'White Eagle' has not been tested for
+heavy transport."
+
+She heard him patiently,--then turned to Rivardi and repeated her
+words--
+
+"We can start at once. Steer upwards and onwards."
+
+Like a man hypnotised he obeyed,--and in a few moments the air-ship,
+answering easily to the helm, rose lightly as a bubble from the
+depths of the canon, through the fiercely dashing showers of spray
+tossed by the foaming torrent, and soared aloft, high and ever
+higher, as swiftly as any living bird born for long and powerful
+flight. Night was falling; and through the dense purple shadows of
+the Californian sky a big white moon rose, bending ghost-like over
+the scene of destruction and chaos, lighting with a pale glare the
+tired and haggard faces of the relief men at their terrible work of
+digging out the living and the dead from the vast pits of earth into
+which they had been suddenly engulfed,--while far, far above them
+flew the "White Eagle," gradually lessening in size through distance
+till it looked no bigger than a dove on its homeward way. Some
+priests watching by a row of lifeless men, women and children killed
+in the earthquake, chanted the "Nunc Dimittis" as the evening grew
+darker,--and the only one among them who had first seen the air-ship
+over the canon, where it fell, as it were in the deep gulf
+surrounded by flood and foam, now raised his eyes in wonderment as
+he perceived it once more soaring at liberty towards the moon.
+
+"Surely a miracle!" he ejaculated, under his breath--"An escape from
+destruction through God's mercy! God be praised!"
+
+And he crossed himself devoutly, joining in the solemn chanting of
+his brethren, kneeling in the moonlight, which threw a ghastly
+lustre on the dead faces of the victims of the earthquake,--victims
+not "struck by the hand of God" but by the hand of man! And he who
+was responsible for the blow lay unconscious of having dealt it, and
+was borne through the air swiftly and safely away for ever from the
+tragic scene of the ruin and desolation he had himself wrought.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+
+A great silence pervaded the Palazzo d'Oro,--the strained silence of
+an intense activity weighted with suspense. Servants moved about
+here and there with noiseless rapidity,--Don Aloysius was seen
+constantly pacing up and down the loggia absorbed in anxious thought
+and prayer, and the Marchese Rivardi came and went on errands of
+which he alone knew the import. Overhead the sky was brilliantly
+blue and cloudless,--the sun flashed a round shield of dazzling gold
+all day long on the breast of the placid sea,--but within the house,
+blinds were drawn to shade and temper the light for eyes that
+perhaps might never again open to the blessing and glory of the day.
+A full week had passed since the "White Eagle" had returned from its
+long and adventurous flight over the vast stretches of ocean,
+bearing with it the two human creatures cast down to death in the
+deep Californian canon,--and only one of them had returned to the
+consciousness of life,--the other still stayed on the verge of the
+"Great Divide." Morgana had safely landed the heavy burden of
+seeming death her ship had carried,--and simply stating to Lady
+Kingswood and her household staff that it was a case of rescue from
+drowning, had caused the two corpses--(such as they truly appeared)-
+-to be laid, each in a separate chamber, surrounded with every means
+that could be devised or thought of for their resuscitation. In an
+atmosphere glowing with mild warmth, on soft beds they were placed,
+inert and white as frozen clay, their condition being apparently so
+hopeless that it seemed mere imaginative folly to think that the
+least breath could ever again part their set lips or the smallest
+pulsation of blood stir colour through their veins. But Morgana
+never wavered in her belief that they lived, and hour after hour,
+day after day she watched with untiring patience, administering the
+mysterious balm or portion which she kept preciously in her own
+possession,--and not till the fifth day of her vigil, when Manella
+showed faint signs of returning consciousness, did she send to Rome
+for a famous scientist and physician with whom she had frequently
+corresponded. She entrusted the dispatch of this message to Rivardi,
+saying--
+
+"It is now time for further aid than mine. The girl will recover--
+but the man--the man is still in the darkness!"
+
+And her eyes grew heavy with a cloud of sorrow and regret which
+softened her delicate beauty and made it more than ever unearthly.
+
+"What are they--what is HE--to you?" demanded Rivardi jealously.
+
+"My friend, there was a time when I should have considered that
+question an impertinence from you!" she said, tranquilly--"But yours
+is the great share of the rescue--and your magnificent bravery wins
+you my pardon,--for many things!" And she smiled as she saw him
+flush under her quiet gaze--"What is this man to me, you ask? Why
+nothing!--not now! Once he was everything,--though he never knew it.
+Some quality in him struck the keynote of the scale of life for me,-
+-he was the great delusion of a dream! The delusion is ended--the
+dream is over! But for that he WAS to me, though only in my own
+thoughts, I have tried to save his life--not for myself, but for the
+woman who loves him."
+
+"The woman we rescued with him?--the woman who is here?"
+
+She bent her head in assent. Rivardi's eyes dwelt on her with
+greater tenderness than he had ever felt before,--she looked so
+frail and fairy-like, and withal so solitary. He took her little
+hand and gently kissed it with courteous reverence.
+
+"Then--after all--you have known love!" he said in a low voice--"You
+have felt what it is,--though you have assumed to despise it?"
+
+"My good Giulio, I DO despise most heartily what the world generally
+understands as love"--she replied; "There is no baser or more
+selfish sentiment!--a sentiment made up half of animal desire and
+half of a personal seeking for admiration, appreciation and self-
+gratification! Yes, Giulio!--it is so, and I despise it for all
+these attributes--in truth it is not what I understand or accept as
+love at all--"
+
+"What DO you understand and accept?" he asked, softly.
+
+Her eyes shone kindly as she raised them to his face.
+
+"Not what you can ever give, Giulio!" she said--"Love--to my mind--
+is the spiritual part of our being--it should be the complete union
+of two souls that move as one,--like the two wings of a bird making
+the body subservient to the highest flights, even as far as heaven!
+The physical mating of man and woman is seldom higher than the
+physical mating of any other animals under the sun,--the animals
+know nothing beyond--but we--we ought to know something!" She
+paused, then went on--"There is sometimes a great loftiness even in
+the physical way of so-called 'love'--such passion as the woman we
+have rescued has for the man she was ready to die with,--a primitive
+passion of primitive woman at her best. Such feeling is out of date
+in these days--we have passed that boundary line--and a great
+unexplored world lies open before us--who can say what we may find
+there! Perhaps we shall discover what all women have sought for from
+the beginning of things--"
+
+"And that is?" he asked.
+
+"Happiness!" she replied--"The perfect happiness of life in love!"
+
+He had held her hand till now, when he released it.
+
+"I wish I could give it to you!" he said.
+
+"You cannot, Giulio! I am not made for any man--as men go!"
+
+"It is a pity you think so"--he said--"For--after all--you are just-
+-a woman!"
+
+"Am I?" she murmured,--and a strange flitting smile brightened her
+features--"Perhaps!--and yet--perhaps not! Who knows!"
+
+She left him puzzled and uneasy. Somehow she always managed to evade
+his efforts to become more intimate in his relations with her.
+Generous and kind-hearted as she was, she held him at a distance,
+and maintained her own aloof position inexorably. A less intelligent
+man than Rivardi would have adopted the cynic's attitude and averred
+that her rejection of love and marriage arose from her own
+unlovableness and unmarriageableness, but he knew better than that.
+He was wise enough to perceive the rareness and delicacy of her
+physical and mental organisation and temperament,--a temperament so
+finely strung as to make all other women seem gross and material
+beside her. He felt and knew her to be both his moral and
+intellectual superior,--and this very fact rendered it impossible
+that he could ever master her mind and tame it down to the
+subservience of married life. That dauntless spirit of hers would
+never bend to an inferior,--not even love (if she could feel it)
+would move her thus far. And the man she had adventured across ocean
+to rescue--what was he? She confessed that she had loved him, though
+that love was past. And now she had set herself to watch night and
+day by his dead body (for dead he surely was in Rivardi's opinion)
+sparing no pains to recover what seemed beyond recovery; while one
+of the greatest mysteries of the whole mysterious affair was just
+this--How had she known the man's life was in danger?
+
+All these questions Rivardi discussed with Don Aloysius, who
+listened to him patiently without committing himself to any reply.
+Whatever Morgana had confided to him--(and she had confided much)--
+he kept his own counsel.
+
+Within forty-eight hours of Morgana's summons the famous specialist
+from Rome, Professor Marco Ardini, noted all over the world for his
+miraculous cures of those whom other physicians had given up as past
+curing, arrived. He heard the story of the rescue of a man and woman
+from drowning with emotionless gravity, more taken for the moment by
+Morgana herself, whom he had never seen before, but with whom he had
+corresponded on current questions of scientific importance. From the
+extremely learned and incisive tone of her letters he had judged her
+to be an elderly woman of profound scholarship who had spent the
+greater part of her life in study, and his astonishment at the sight
+of the small, dainty creature who received him in the library of the
+Palazzo d'Oro was beyond all verbal expression,--in fact, he took
+some minutes to recover from the magnetic "shock" of her blue eyes
+and wistful smile.
+
+"I must be quite frank with you,"--she said, after a preliminary
+conversation with the great man in his own Italian tongue--"These
+two people have suffered their injuries by drowning--but not
+altogether. They are the victims of an earthquake,--and were thrown
+by the earth's upheaval into a deep chasm flooded by water--"
+
+The Professor interrupted her.
+
+"Pardon, Signora! There has been no recent earthquake in Europe."
+
+She gave a little gesture of assent.
+
+"Not in Europe--no! But in America--in California there has been a
+terrible one!"
+
+"In California!" he echoed amazedly-"Gran' Dio! You do not mean to
+say that you brought these people from California, across that vast
+extent of ocean?"
+
+She smiled.
+
+"By air-ship--yes! Really nothing so very remarkable! You will not
+ask for further details just now, Professor!" and she laid her
+pretty hand coaxingly on his arm--"You and I both know how advisable
+it is to say as little as possible of our own work or adventures,
+while any subject is awaiting treatment and every moment counts! I
+will answer any question you may ask when you have seen my patients.
+The girl is a beautiful creature--she is beginning to regain
+consciousness--but the man I fear is past even YOUR skill. Come!"
+
+She led the way and Professor Ardini followed, marvelling at her
+ethereal grace and beauty, and more than interested in the "case" on
+which his opinion was sought. Entering a beautiful room glowing with
+light and warmth and colour, he saw, lying on a bed and slightly
+propped up by pillows, a lovely girl, pale as ivory, with dark hair
+loosely braided on either side of her head. Her eyes were closed,
+and the long black lashes swept the cheeks in a curved fringe,--the
+lips were faintly red, and the breath parted them slowly and
+reluctantly. The Professor bent over her and listened,--her heart
+beat slowly but regularly,--he felt her pulse.
+
+"She will live!"--he said--"There are no injuries?"
+
+"None"--Morgana replied, as he put his questions--"Some few bruises-
+-but no bones broken--nothing serious."
+
+"You have examined her?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You have no nurses?"
+
+"No. I and my house people are sufficient." Her tone became slightly
+peremptory. "There is no need for outside interference. Whatever
+your orders are, they shall be carried out."
+
+He looked at her. His face was a somewhat severe one, furrowed with
+thought and care,--but when he smiled, a wonderful benevolence gave
+it an almost handsome effect. And he smiled now.
+
+"You shall not be interfered with,"--he said--"You have done very
+well! Complete rest, nourishment and your care are all that this
+patient needs. She will be quite herself in a very short time. She
+is extraordinarily beautiful!"
+
+"I wish you could see her eyes!" said Morgana.
+
+Almost as if the uttered wish had touched some recess of her stunned
+brain, Manella's eyelids quivered and lifted,--the great dark glory
+of the stars of her soul shone forth for an instant, giving sudden
+radiance to the pallor of her features--then they closed again as in
+utter weariness.
+
+"Magnificent!" said Ardini, under his breath--"And full of the vital
+light,--she will live!"
+
+"And she will love!" added Morgana, softly.
+
+The Professor looked at her enquiringly.
+
+"The man she loves is in the next room"--she continued--"We rescued
+him with her--if it can be called a rescue. He is the worst case.
+Only you may be able to bring him back to consciousness,--I have
+done my best in vain. If YOU fail then we must give up hope."
+
+She preceded him into the adjoining chamber; as he entered it after
+her he paused--almost intimidated, despite his long medical and
+surgical experience, by the stone-like figure of man that lay before
+him. It was as if one should have unearthed a statue, grey with
+time--a statue nobly formed, with a powerful head and severe
+features sternly set,--the growth of beard revealing, rather than
+concealing, the somewhat cruel contour of mouth and chin. The
+Professor walked slowly up to the bed and looked at this strange
+effigy of a human being for many minutes in silence,--Morgana
+watching him with strained but quiet suspense. Presently he touched
+the forehead--it was stone-cold--then the throat, stone-cold and
+rigid--he bent down and listened for the heart's pulsations,--not a
+flutter--not a beat! Drawing back from this examination he looked at
+Morgana,--she met his eyes with the query in her own which she
+emphasised by the spoken word--
+
+"Dead?"
+
+"No!"--he answered--"I think not. It is very difficult for a man of
+this type to die at all. Granted favourable conditions--and barring
+accidents caused by the carelessness of others--he ought to be one
+of those destined to live for ever. But"--here he hesitated--"if I
+am right in my surmise,--of course it is only a first opinion--death
+would be the very best thing for him."
+
+"Oh, why do you say that?" she asked, pitifully.
+
+"Because the brain is damaged--hopelessly! This man--whoever he is--
+has been tampering with some chemical force he does not entirely
+understand,--his whole body is charged with its influence, and this
+it is that gives his form its unnatural appearance which, though
+death-like, is not death. If I leave him alone and untouched he will
+probably expire unconsciously in a few days,--but if--after what I
+have just told you--you wish me to set the life atoms going again,--
+even as a clock is wound up,--I can relax the tension which now
+paralyses the cells, muscles and nerves, and he will live--yes!--
+like most people without brains he will live a long time--probably
+too long!"
+
+Morgana moved to the bedside and gazed with a solemn earnestness at
+the immobile, helpless form stretched out before her as though ready
+for burial. Her heart swelled with suppressed emotion,--she thought
+with anguish of the brilliant brain, the strong, self-sufficient
+nature brought to such ruin through too great an estimate of human
+capability. Tears rushed to her eyes--
+
+"Oh, give him life!" she whispered--"Give him life for the sake of
+the woman who loves him more than life!"
+
+The Professor gave her a quick, keen glance.
+
+"You?"
+
+She shivered at the question as though struck by a cold wind,--then
+conquering the momentary weakness, answered--
+
+"No. The girl you have just seen. He is her world!"
+
+Ardini's brows met in a saturnine frown.
+
+"Her world will be an empty one!" he said, with an expressive
+gesture--"A world without fruit or flower,--without light or song! A
+dreary world! But such as it is,--such as it is bound to be,--it can
+live on,--a life-in-death."
+
+"Are you quite sure of this?" Morgana asked--"Can any of us, however
+wise, be quite sure of anything?"
+
+His frown relaxed and his whole features softened. He took her hand
+and patted it kindly.
+
+"Signora, you know as well as I do, that the universe and all within
+it represents law and order. A man is a little universe in himself--
+and if the guiding law of his system is destroyed, there is chaos
+and darkness. We scientists can say 'Let there be light,' but the
+fulfilled result 'and there was light' comes from God alone!"
+
+"Why should not God help in this case?" she suggested.
+
+"Ah, why!" and Ardini shrugged his shoulders--"How can I tell? My
+long experience has taught me that wherever the law has been broken
+God does NOT help! Who knows whether this frozen wreck of man has
+obeyed or disobeyed the law? I can do all that science allows--"
+
+"And you will do it!" interrupted Morgana eagerly, "You will use
+your best skill and knowledge--everything you wish shall be at your
+service--name whatever fee your merit claims--"
+
+He raised his hand with a deprecatory gesture.
+
+"Money does not count with me, Signora!" he said--"Nor with you. The
+point with both of us in all our work is--success! Is it not so?
+Yes! And it is because I do not see a true success in this case that
+I hesitate; true success would mean the complete restoration of this
+man to life and intelligence,--but life without intelligence is no
+triumph for science. I can do all that science will allow--"
+
+"And you WILL do this 'all'"--said Morgana, eagerly--"You will
+forego triumph for simple pity!--pity for the girl who would surely
+die if he were dead!--and perhaps after all, God may help the
+recovery!"
+
+"It shall be as you wish, Signora! I must stay here two or three
+days--"
+
+"As long as you find it necessary"--said Morgana--"All your orders
+shall be obeyed."
+
+"Good! Send me a trustworthy man-servant who can help to move and
+support the patient, and we can get to work. I left a few necessary
+appliances in your hall--I should like them brought into this room--
+and then--" here he took her hand and pressed it kindly--"you can
+leave us to our task, and take some rest. You must be very tired."
+
+"I am never tired"--she answered, gently--"I thank you in advance
+for all you are going to do!"
+
+She left the room then, with one backward glance at the inert stiff
+figure on the bed,--and went to arrange matters with her household
+that the Professor's instructions should be strictly carried out.
+Lady Kingswood, deeply interested, heard her giving certain orders
+and asked--
+
+"There is hope then? These two poor creatures will live?"
+
+"I think so"--answered Morgana, with a thrill of sadness in her
+sweet voice--"They will live--pray God their lives may be worth
+living!"
+
+She watched the man-servant whom she had chosen to wait on Ardini
+depart on his errand--she saw him open the door of the room where
+Seaton lay, and shut it--then there was a silence. Oppressed by a
+sudden heaviness of heart she thought of Manella, and entered her
+apartment softly to see how she fared. The girl's beautiful dark
+eyes were wide open and full of the light of life and consciousness.
+She smiled and stretched out her arms.
+
+"It is my angel!" she murmured faintly--"My little white angel who
+came to me in the darkness! And this is Heaven!"
+
+Swiftly and silently Morgana went to her side, and taking her
+outstretched arms put them round her own neck.
+
+"Manella!" she said, tenderly--"Dear, beautiful Manella! Do you know
+me?"
+
+The great loving eyes rested on her with glowing warmth and
+pleasure.
+
+"Indeed I know you!" and Manella's voice, weak as that of a sick
+child, sounded ever so far away--"The little white lady of my
+dreams! Oh, I have wanted you!--wanted you so much! Why did you not
+come back sooner?"
+
+Afraid to trouble her brain by the sudden shock of too rapidly
+recurring memories, Morgana made no reply, but merely soothed her
+with tender caresses, when all at once she made a violent struggle
+to rise from the bed.
+
+"I must go!" she cried--"He is calling me! I must follow him--yes,
+even if he kills me for it--he is in danger!"
+
+Morgana held her close and firmly.
+
+"Hush, hush, dear!" she murmured--"Be quite still! He is safe--
+believe me! He is near you--in the next room!--out of all danger."
+
+"Oh, no, it is not possible!" and the girl's eyes grew wild with
+terror--"He cannot be safe!--he is destroying himself! I have
+followed him every step of the way--I have watched him,--oh!--so
+long!--and he came out of the hut this morning--I was hidden among
+the trees--he could not see me--" she broke off, and a violent
+trembling shook her whole body. Morgana tried to calm her into
+silence, but she went on rambling incoherently. "There was something
+he carried as though it was precious to him--something that
+glittered like gold,--and he went away quickly--quickly to the
+canyon,--I followed him like a dog, crawling through the brushwood--
+I followed him across the deep water--to the cave where it was all
+dark--black as midnight!" She paused--then suddenly flung her arms
+round Morgana crying--"Oh, hold me!--hold me!--I am in this darkness
+trying to find him!--there!--there!--he turns and sees me by the
+light of a lamp he carries; he knows I have followed him, and he is
+angry! Oh, dear God, he is angry--he raises his arm to strike me!"
+She uttered a smothered shriek, and clung to Morgana in a kind of
+frenzy. "No mercy, no pity! That thing that glitters in his hand--it
+frightens me--what is it? I kneel to him on the cold stones--I pray
+him to forgive me--to come with me--but his arm is still raised to
+strike--he does not care--!"
+
+Here a pale horror blanched her features--she drew herself away from
+Morgana's hold and put out her hands with the instinctive gesture of
+one who tries to escape falling from some great height. Morgana,
+alarmed at her looks, caught her again in her arms and held her
+tenderly, whereat a faint smile hovered on her lips and her
+distraught movements ceased.
+
+"What is this?"--she asked--then murmured--"My little white lady,
+how did you come here? How could you cross the flood?--unless on
+wings? Ah!--you are a fairy and you can do all you wish to do--but
+you cannot save HIM!--it is too late! He will not save himself--and
+he does not care,--he does not care--neither for me nor you!"
+
+She drooped her head against Morgana's shoulder and her eyes closed
+in utter exhaustion. Morgana laid her back gently on her pillows,
+and pouring a few drops of the cordial she had used before, and of
+which she had the sole secret, into a wineglassful of water, held it
+to her lips. She drank it obediently, evidently conscious now that
+she was being cared for. But she was still restless, and presently
+she sat up in a listening attitude, one hand uplifted.
+
+"Listen!" she said in a low, awed tone--"Thunder! Do you hear it?
+God speaks!"
+
+She lay down again passively and was silent for a long time. The
+hours passed and the day grew into late afternoon, and Morgana,
+patiently watchful, thought she slept. All suddenly she sprang up,
+wide-eyed and alert.
+
+"What was that?" she cried--"I heard him call!"
+
+Morgana, startled by her swift movement, stood transfixed--
+listening. The deep tones of a man's voice rang out loudly and
+defiantly--
+
+"There shall be no more wars! There can be none! I say so! I am
+Master of the World!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+
+A brilliant morning broke over the flower-filled gardens of the
+Palazzo d'Oro, and the sea, stretched out in a wide radiance of
+purest blue shimmered with millions of tiny silver ripples brushed
+on its surface by a light wind as delicate as a bird's wing. Morgana
+stood in her rose-marble loggia, looking with a pathetic wistfulness
+at the beauty of the scene, and beside her stood Marco Ardini,
+scientist, surgeon and physician, looking also, but scarcely seeing,
+his whole thought being concentrated on the "case" with which he had
+been dealing.
+
+"It is exactly as I at first told you,"--he said--"The man is strong
+in muscle and sinew,--but his brain is ruined. It can no longer
+control or command the body's mechanism,--therefore the body is
+practically useless. Power of volition is gone,--the poor fellow
+will never be able to walk again or to lift a hand. A certain
+faculty of speech is left,--but even this is limited to a few words
+which are evidently the result of the last prevailing thoughts
+impressed on the brain-cells. It is possible he will repeat those
+words thousands of times!--the oftener he repeats them the more he
+will like to say them."
+
+"What are they?" Morgana asked in a tone of sorrow and compassion.
+
+"Strange enough for a man in his condition"--replied Ardini--"And
+always the same. 'THERE SHALL BE NO MORE WARS! THERE CAN BE NONE! I
+SAY IT!--_I_ ONLY! IT IS MY GREAT SECRET! _I_ AM MASTER OF THE
+WORLD!' Poor devil! What a 'master of the world' is there!"
+
+Morgana shuddered as with cold, shading her eyes from the radiant
+sunshine.
+
+"Does he say nothing else?" she murmured--"Is there no name--no
+place--that he seems to remember?"
+
+"He remembers nothing--he knows nothing"--answered Ardini--"He does
+not even realize me as a man--I might be a fish or a serpent for all
+his comprehension. One glance at his moveless eyes is enough to
+prove that. They are like pebbles in his head--without cognisance or
+expression. He mutters the words 'Great Secret' over and over again,
+and tacks it on to the other phrase of 'No more wars' in a semi-
+conscious sort of gabble,--this is, of course, the disordered action
+of the brain working to catch up and join together hopelessly
+severed fragments."
+
+Morgana lifted her sea-blue eyes and looked with grave appeal into
+the severely intellectual, half-frowning face of the great
+Professor.
+
+"Is there no hope of an ultimate recovery?" she asked--"With time
+and rest and the best of unceasing care, might not this poor brain
+right itself?"
+
+"Medically and scientifically speaking, there is no hope,--none
+whatever"--he replied--"Though of course we all know that Nature's
+remedial methods are inexhaustible, and often, to the wisest of us,
+seem miraculous, because as yet we do not understand one tithe of
+her processes. But--in this case,--this strange and terrible case"--
+and he uttered the words with marked gravity,--"It is Nature's own
+force that has wrought the damage,--some powerful influence which
+the man has been testing has proved too much for him--and it has
+taken its own vengeance."
+
+Morgana heard this with strained interest and attention.
+
+"Tell me just what you mean,"--she said--"There is something you do
+not quite express--or else I am too slow to understand--"
+
+Ardini took a few paces up and down the loggia and then halted,
+facing her in the attitude of a teacher preparing to instruct a
+pupil.
+
+"Signora,"--he said--"When you began to correspond with me some
+years ago from America, I realised that I was in touch with a highly
+intelligent and cultivated mind. I took you to be many years older
+than you are, with a ripe scientific experience. I find you young,
+beautiful, and pathetic in the pure womanliness of your nature,
+which must be perpetually contending with an indomitable power of
+intellectuality and of spirituality,--spirituality is the strongest
+force of your being. You are not made like other women. This being
+so I can say to you what other women would not understand. Science
+is my life-subject, as it is yours,--it is a window set open in the
+universe admitting great light. But many of us foolishly imagine
+that this light emanates from ourselves as a result of our own
+cleverness, whereas it comes from that Divine Source of all things,
+which we call God. We refuse to believe this,--it wounds our pride.
+And we use the discoveries of science recklessly and selfishly--
+without gratitude, humbleness or reverence. So it happens that the
+first tendency of godless men is to destroy. The love of destruction
+and torture shows itself in the boy who tears off the wing of an
+insect, or kills a bird for the pleasure of killing. The boy is
+father of the man. And we come, after much ignorant denial and
+obstinacy, back to the inexorable truth that 'they who take the
+sword shall perish with the sword.' If we consider the 'sword' as a
+metaphor for every instrument of destruction, we shall see the force
+of its application--the submarine, for example, built for the most
+treacherous kind of sea-warfare--how often they that undertake its
+work are slain themselves! And so it is through the whole gamut of
+scientific discovery when it is used for inhuman and unlawful
+purposes. But when this same 'sword' is lifted to put an end to
+torture, disease, and the manifold miseries of life, then the Power
+that has entrusted it to mankind endows it with blessing and there
+are no evil results. I say this to you by way of explaining the view
+I am forced to take of this man whose strange case you ask me to
+deal with,--my opinion is that through chance or intention he has
+been playing recklessly with a great natural force, which he has not
+entirely understood, for some destructive purpose, and that it has
+recoiled on himself."
+
+Morgana looked him steadily in the eyes.
+
+"You may be right,"--she said--"He is--or was--one of the most
+brilliant of our younger scientists. You know his name--I have sent
+you from New York some accounts of his work--He is Roger Seaton,
+whose experiments in the condensation of radioactivity startled
+America some four or five years ago--"
+
+"Roger Seaton!" he exclaimed--"What! The man who professed to have
+found a new power which would change the face of the world? . . .
+He,--this wreck?--this blind, deaf lump of breathing clay? Surely he
+has not fallen on so horrible a destiny!"
+
+Tears rushed to Morgana's eyes,--she could not answer. She could
+only bend her head in assent.
+
+Profoundly moved, Ardini took her hand, and kissed it with
+sympathetic reverence.
+
+"Signora," he said--"This is indeed a tragedy! You have saved this
+life at I know not what risk to yourself--and as I am aware what a
+life of great attainment it promised to be, you may be sure I will
+spare no pains to bring it back to normal conditions. But frankly I
+do not think it will be possible. There is the woman who loves him--
+her influence may do something--"
+
+"If he ever loved her--yes"--and Morgana smiled rather sadly--"But
+if he did not--if the love is all on her side--"
+
+Ardini shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"A great love is always on the woman's side,"--he said--"Men are too
+selfish to love perfectly. In this case, of course, there is no
+emotion, no sentiment of any sort left in the mere hulk of man. But
+still I will continue my work and do my best."
+
+He left her then,--and she stood for a while alone, gazing far out
+to the blue sea and sunlight, scarcely seeing them for the half-
+unconscious tears that blinded her eyes. Suddenly a Ray, not of the
+sun, shot athwart the loggia and touched her with a deep gold
+radiance. She saw it and looked up, listening.
+
+"Morgana!"
+
+The Voice quivered along the Ray like the touched string of an
+aeolian harp. She answered it in almost a whisper--
+
+"I hear!"
+
+"You grieve for sorrows not your own," said the Voice--"And we love
+you for it. But you must not waste your tears on the errors of
+others. Each individual Spirit makes its own destiny, and no other
+but Itself can help Itself. You are one of the Chosen and Beloved!--
+You must fulfil the happiness you have created for your own soul!
+Come to us soon!" A thrill of exquisite joy ran through her.
+
+"I will!" she said--"When my duties here are done."
+
+The golden Ray decreased in length and brilliancy, and finally died
+away in a fine haze mingling with the air. She watched it till it
+vanished,--then with a sense of relief from her former sadness, she
+went into the house to see Manella. The girl had risen from her bed,
+and with the assistance of Lady Kingswood, who tended her with
+motherly care, had been arrayed in a loose white woollen gown,
+which, carelessly gathered round her, intensified by contrast the
+striking beauty of her dark eyes and hair, and ivory pale skin. As
+Morgana entered the room she smiled, her small even teeth gleaming
+like tiny pearls in the faint rose of her pretty mouth, and
+stretched out her hand.
+
+"What has he said to you?" she asked--"Tell me! Is he not glad to
+see you?--to know he is with you?--safe with you in your home?"
+
+Morgana sat down beside her.
+
+"Dear Manella"--she answered, gently and with tenderest pity--"He
+does not know me. He knows nothing! He speaks a few words,--but he
+has no consciousness of what he is saying."
+
+Manella looked at her wonderingly--
+
+"Ah, that is because he is not himself yet"--she said--"The crash of
+the rocks--the pouring of the flood--this was enough to kill him--
+but he will recover in a little while and he will know you!--yes, he
+will know you, and he will thank God for life to see you!"
+
+Her unselfish joy in the idea that the man she loved would soon
+recognise the woman he preferred to herself, was profoundly
+touching, and Morgana kissed the hand she held.
+
+"Dear, I am afraid he will never know anything more in this world"--
+she said, sorrowfully--"Neither man nor woman! Nor can he thank God
+for a life which will be long, living death! Unless YOU can help
+him!"
+
+"I?" and Manella's eyes dilated with brilliant eagerness; "I will
+give my life for his! What can I do?"
+
+And then, with patient slowness and gentleness, little by little,
+Morgana told her all. Lady Kingswood, sitting in an arm-chair near
+the window, worked at her embroidery, furtive tears dropping now and
+again on the delicate pattern, as she heard the details of the
+tragic verdict given by one of Europe's greatest medical scientists
+on the hopelessness of ever repairing the damage wrought by the
+shock which had shaken a powerful brain into ruins. But it was
+wonderful to watch Manella's face as she listened. Sorrow, pity,
+tenderness, love, all in turn flashed their heavenly radiance in her
+eyes and intensified her beauty, and when she had heard all, she
+smiled as some lovely angel might smile on a repentant soul. Her
+whole frame seemed to vibrate with a passion of unselfish emotion.
+
+"He will be my care!" she said--"The good God has heard my prayers
+and given him to me to be all mine!" She clasped her hands in a kind
+of ecstasy, "My life is for him and him alone! He will be my little
+child!--this big, strong, poor broken man!--and I will nurse him
+back to himself,--I will watch for every little sign of hope!--he
+shall learn to see through my eyes--to hear through my ears--to
+remember all that he has forgotten!. . ." Her voice broke in a half
+sob. Morgana put an arm about her.
+
+"Manella, Manella!" she said--"You do not know what you say--you
+cannot understand the responsibility--it would make you a prisoner
+for life--"
+
+"Oh, I understand!" and Manella shook back her dark hair with the
+little proud, decisive gesture characteristic of her temperament--
+"Yes!--and I wish to be so imprisoned! If we had not been rescued by
+you, we should have died together!--now you will help us to live
+together! Will you not? You are a little white angel--a fairy!--
+yes!--to me you are!--your heart is full of unspent love! You will
+let me stay with him always--always?--As his nurse?--his servant?--
+his slave?"
+
+Morgana looked at her tenderly, touched to the quick by her
+eagerness and her beauty, now intensified by the glow of excitement
+which gave a roseate warmth to her cheeks and deeper darkness to her
+eyes. All ignorant and unsuspecting as she was of the world's
+malignity and cruel misjudgments, how could it be explained to her
+that a woman of such youth and loveliness, electing to dwell alone
+with a man, even if the man were a hopeless paralytic, would make
+herself the subject of malicious comment and pitiless scandal! Some
+reflection of this feeling showed itself in the expression of
+Morgana's face while she hesitated to answer, holding the girl's
+hand in her own and stroking it affectionately the while. Manella,
+gazing at her as a worshipper might gaze at a sacred picture,
+instinctively divined her thought.
+
+"Ah? I know what you would say!" she exclaimed, "That I might bring
+shame to him by my companionship--always--yes!--that is possible!--
+wicked people would talk of him and judge him wrongly--"
+
+"Oh, Manella, dear!" murmured Morgana--"Not him--not him--but YOU!"
+
+"Me?" She tossed back her wealth of hair, and smiled--"What am I?
+Just a bit of dust in his path! I am nothing at all! I do not care
+what anybody says or thinks of ME!--what should it matter! But see!-
+-to save HIM--let me be his wife!"
+
+"His wife!" Morgana repeated the words in amazement, and Lady
+Kingswood, laying down her work, gazed at the two beautiful women,
+the one so spiritlike and fair, the other so human and queenly, in a
+kind of stupefaction, wondering if she had heard aright.
+
+"His wife! Yes!". . .  Manella spoke with a thrill of exultation in
+her voice,--and she caught Morgana's hand and kissed it fondly--"His
+wife! It is the only way I can be his slave-woman! Let me marry him
+while he knows nothing, so that I may have the right to wait upon
+him and care for him! He shall never know! For--if he comes to
+himself again--please God he will!--as soon as that happens I will
+go away at once. He will never know!--he shall never learn who it is
+that has cared for him! You see? I shall never be really his wife--
+nor he my husband--only in name. And then--when he comes out of the
+darkness--when he is strong and well once more, he will go to YOU!--
+you whom he loves--"
+
+Morgana silenced her by a gesture which was at once commanding and
+sweetly austere.
+
+"Dear girl, he never loved me!" she said, gently--"He has always
+loved himself. Yes!--you know that as well as I do! Once--I fancied
+I loved HIM--but now I know my way of love is not his. Let us say no
+more of it! You wish to be his wife? Do you think what that means?
+He will never know he is your husband--never recognise you,--your
+life will be sacrificed to a helpless creature whose brain is gone--
+who will be unconscious of your care and utterly irresponsive. Oh,
+sweet, TOO loving Manella!--you must not pledge the best years of
+your youth and beauty to such a destiny!"
+
+Manella's dark eyes flashed with passionate ardour and enthusiasm.
+
+"I must--I must!" she said--"It is the work God gives me to do! Do
+you not see how it is with me? It is my one love--the best of my
+heart!--the pulse of my life! Youth and beauty!--what are they
+without him? Ill or well, he is all I care for, and if I may not
+care for him I will die! It is quite easy to die--to make an end!--
+but if there is any youth or beauty to spend, it will be better to
+spend it on love than in death! My white angel, listen and be
+patient with me! You ARE patient but still be more so!--you know
+there will be none in the world to care for him!--ah!--when he was
+well and strong he said that love would weary him--he did not think
+he would ever be helpless and ill!--ah, no!--but a broken brain is
+put away--out of sight--to be forgotten like a broken toy! He was at
+work on some wonderful invention--some great secret!--it will never
+be known now--not a soul will ever ask what has become of it or of
+him! The world does not care what becomes of anyone--it has no
+sympathy. Only those who love greatly have any pity!"
+
+She clasped her hands and lifted them in an attitude of prayer,
+laying them against Morgana's breast.
+
+"You will let me have my way--surely you will?" she pleaded--"You
+are a little angel of mercy, unlike any other woman I ever saw--so
+white and pure and sweet!--you understand it all! In his dreadful
+weakness and loneliness, God gives him to ME!--happy me, who am
+young and strong enough to care for him and attend upon him. I have
+no money,--perhaps he has none either, but I will work to keep him,-
+-I am clever at my needle--I can embroider quite well--and I will
+manage to earn enough for us both. "Her voice broke in a sob, and
+Morgana, the tears falling from her own eyes, drew her into a close
+embrace.
+
+And she murmured plaintively again--
+
+"His wife!--I must be his wife,--his serving-woman--then no one can
+forbid me to be with him! You will find some good priest to say the
+marriage service for us and give us God's benediction--it will mean
+nothing to him, because he cannot know or understand,--but to me it
+will be a holy sacrament!"
+
+Then she broke down and wept softly till the pent-up passion of her
+heart was relieved, and Morgana, mastering her own emotion, had
+soothed her into quietude. Leaning back from her arm-chair where she
+had rested since rising from her bed, she looked up with an anxious
+appeal in her lovely eyes.
+
+"Let me tell you something before I forget it again"--she said--"It
+is something terrible--the earthquake."
+
+"Yes, yes, do not think of it now"--said Morgana, hastily, afraid
+that her mind would wander into painful mazes of recollection--"That
+is all over."
+
+"Ah, yes! But you should know the truth! It was NOT an earthquake!"
+she persisted--"It was not God's doing! It was HIS work!"
+
+And she indicated by a gesture the next room where Roger Seaton lay.
+
+A cold horror ran through Morgana's blood. HIS work!--the widespread
+ruin of villages and townships,--the devastation of a vast tract of
+country--the deaths of hundreds of men, women and little children--
+HIS work? Could it be possible? She stood transfixed,--while Manella
+went on--
+
+"I know it was his work!" she said--"I was warned by a friend of his
+who came to 'la Plaza' that he was working at something which might
+lose him his life. And so I watched. I told you how I followed him
+that morning--how I saw him looking at a box full of shining things
+that glittered like the points of swords,--how he put this box in a
+case and then in a basket, and slung the basket over his shoulder,
+and went down into the canon, and then to the cave where I found
+him. I called him--he heard, and held up a miner's lamp and saw me!-
+-then--then, oh, dear God!--then he cursed me for following him,--he
+raised his arm to strike me, and in his furious haste to reach me he
+slipped on the wet, mossy stones. Something fell from his hand with
+a great crash like thunder--and there was a sudden glare of fire!--
+oh, the awfulness of that sound and that flame!--and the rocks rose
+up and split asunder--the ground shook and broke under me--and I
+remember no more--no more till I found myself here!--here with you!"
+
+Morgana roused herself from the stupefaction of horror with which
+she had listened to this narration.
+
+"Do not think of it any more!" she said in a low sad voice--"Try to
+forget it all. Yes, dear!--try to forget all the mad selfishness and
+cruelty of the man you love! Poor, besotted soul!--he has a bitter
+punishment!"
+
+She could say no more then,--stooping, she kissed the girl on the
+white forehead between the rippling waves of dark hair, and strove
+to meet the searching eyes with a smile.
+
+"Dear, beautiful angel, you will help me?" Manella pleaded--"You
+will help me to be his wife?"
+
+And Morgana answered with pitiful tenderness.
+
+"I will!"
+
+And with a sign to Lady Kingswood to come nearer and sit by the girl
+as she lay among her pillows more or less exhausted, she herself
+left the room. As she opened the door on her way out, the strong
+voice of Roger Seaton rang out with singularly horrible harshness--
+
+"There shall be no more wars! There can be none! I say it! My great
+secret! I am master of the world!"
+
+Shuddering as she heard, she pressed her hands over her ears and
+hurried along the corridor. Her thoughts paraphrased the saying of
+Madame Roland on Liberty--"Oh, Science! what crimes are committed in
+thy name!" She was anxious to see and speak with Professor Ardini,
+but came upon the Marchese Rivardi instead, who met her at the door
+of the library and caught her by both hands.
+
+"What is all this?" he demanded, insistently--"I MUST speak to you!
+You have been weeping! What is troubling you?"
+
+She drew her hands gently away from his.
+
+"Nothing, Giulio!" and she smiled kindly--"I grieve for the griefs
+of others--quite uselessly!--but I cannot help it!"
+
+"There is no hope, then?" he said.
+
+"None--not for the man"--she replied--"His body will live,--but his
+brain is dead."
+
+Rivardi gave an expressive gesture.
+
+"Horrible! Better he should die!"
+
+"Yes, far better! But the girl loves him. She is an ardent Spanish
+creature--warm-hearted and simple as a child,--she believes"--and
+Morgana's eyes had a pathetic wistfulness--"she believes,--as all
+women believe when they love for the first time,--that love has a
+divine power next to that of God!--that it will work miracles of
+recovery when all seems lost. The disillusion comes, of course,
+sooner or later,--but it has to come of itself--not through any
+other influence. She--Manella Soriso--has resolved to be his wife."
+
+"Gran' Dio!" Rivardi started back in utter amazement--"His wife?--
+That girl? Young, beautiful? She will chain herself to a madman?
+Surely you will not allow it!"
+
+Morgana looked at him with a smile.
+
+"Poor Giulio!" she said, softly--"You are a most unfortunate
+descendant of your Roman ancestors as far as we women are concerned!
+You fall in love with me--and you find I am not for you!--then you
+see a perfectly lovely woman whom you cannot choose but admire--and
+a little stray thought comes flying into your head--yes!--quite
+involuntarily!--that perhaps--only perhaps--her love might come your
+way! Do not be angry, my friend!--it was only a thought that moved
+you when you saw her the other day--when I called you to look at her
+as she recovered consciousness and lay on her bed like a sleeping
+figure of the loveliest of pagan goddesses! What man could have seen
+her thus without a thrill of tenderness!--and now you have to hear
+that all that beauty and warmth of youthful life is to be sacrificed
+to a stone idol!--(for the man she worships is little more!) ah,
+yes!--I am sorry for you, Giulio!--but can do nothing to prevent the
+sacrifice,--indeed, I have promised to assist it!"
+
+Rivardi had alternately flushed and paled while she spoke,--her
+keen, incisive probing of his most secret fancies puzzled and vexed
+him,--but with a well-assumed indifference he waved aside her
+delicately pointed suggestions as though he had scarcely heard them,
+and said--
+
+"You have promised to assist? Can you reconcile it to your
+conscience to let this girl make herself a prisoner for life?"
+
+"I can!" she answered quietly--"For if she is opposed in her desire
+for such imprisonment she will kill herself. So it is wisest to let
+her have her way. The man she loves so desperately may die at any
+moment, and then she will be free. But meanwhile she will have the
+consolation of doing all she can for him, and the hope of helping
+him to recover; vain hope as it may be, there is a divine
+unselfishness in it. For she says that if he is restored to health
+she will go away at once and never let him know she is his wife."
+
+Rivardi's handsome face expressed utter incredulity.
+
+"Will she keep her word I wonder?"
+
+"She will!"
+
+"Marvellous woman!" and there was bitterness in his tone--"But women
+are all amazing when you come to know them! In love? in hate, in
+good, in evil, in cleverness and in utter stupidity, they are
+wonderful creatures! And you, amica bella, are perhaps the most
+wonderful of them all! So kind and yet so cruel!"
+
+"Cruel?" she echoed.
+
+"Yes! To me!"
+
+She looked at him and smiled. That smile gave such a dreamy,
+spiritlike sweetness to her whole personality that for the moment
+she seemed to float before him like an aerial vision rather than a
+woman of flesh and blood, and the bold desire which possessed him to
+seize and clasp her in his arms was checked by a sense of something
+like fear. Her eyes rested on his with a full clear frankness.
+
+"If I am cruel to you, my friend"--she said, gently, "it is only to
+be more kind!"
+
+She left him then and went out. He saw her small, elfin figure pass
+among the chains of roses which at this season seemed to tie up the
+garden in brilliant knots of colour, and then go down the terraces,
+one by one, towards the monastic retreat half buried among pine and
+olive, where Don Aloysius governed his little group of religious
+brethren.
+
+He guessed her intent.
+
+"She will tell him all"--he thought--"And with his strange semi-
+religious, semi-scientific notions, it will be easy for her to
+persuade him to marry the girl to this demented creature who fills
+the house with his shouting 'There shall be no more wars!' I should
+never have thought her capable of tolerating such a crime!"
+
+He turned to leave the loggia,--but paused as he perceived Professor
+Ardini advancing from the interior of the house, his hands clasped
+behind his back and his furrowed brows bent in gloomy meditation.
+
+"You have a difficult case?" he queried.
+
+"More than difficult!" replied Ardini--"Beyond human skill! Perhaps
+not beyond the mysterious power we call God."
+
+Rivardi shrugged his shoulders. He was a sceptic of sceptics and his
+modern-world experiences had convinced him that what man could not
+do was not to be done at all.
+
+"The latest remedy proposed by the Signora is--love!" he said,
+carelessly--"The girl who is here,--Manella Soriso--has made up her
+mind to be the wife of this unfortunate--"
+
+Ardini gave an expressive gesture.
+
+"Altro! If she has made up her mind, heaven itself will not move
+her! It will be a sublime sacrifice of one life for another,--what
+would you? Such sacrifices are common, though the world does not
+hear of them. In this instance there is no one to prevent it."
+
+"You approve--you tolerate it?" exclaimed Rivardi angrily.
+
+"I have no power to approve or to tolerate"--replied the scientist,
+coldly--"The matter is not one in which I have any right to
+interfere. Nor,--I think,--have YOU!--I have stated such facts as
+exist--that the man's brain is practically destroyed--but that owing
+to the strength of the life-centres he will probably exist in his
+present condition for a full term of years. To keep him so alive
+will entail considerable care and expense. He will need a male
+nurse--probably two--food of the best and absolutely tranquil
+surroundings. If the Signora, who is rich and generous, guarantees
+these necessities, and the girl who loves him desires to be his wife
+under such terrible conditions, I do not see how anyone can object
+to the marriage."
+
+"Then he poor devil of a man will be married without his knowledge,
+and probably (if he had his senses) against his will!" said Rivardi.
+
+Ardini bent his brows yet more frowningly.
+
+"Just so!" he answered--"But he has neither knowledge nor will--nor
+is he likely ever to have them again. These great attributes of the
+god in man have been taken from him. Power and Will!--Will and
+Power!--the two wings of the Soul!--they are gone, probably for
+ever. Science can do nothing to bring them back, but I will not deny
+the possibility of other forces which might work a remedy on this
+ruin of a 'master of the world' as he calls himself! Therefore I say
+let the love-woman try her best!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+
+Don Aloysius sat in his private library,--a room little larger than
+a monastic cell, and at his feet knelt Morgana like a child at
+prayer. The rose and purple glow of the sunset fell aslant through a
+high oriel window of painted glass, shedding an aureole round her
+golden head, and intensified the fine, dark intellectual outline of
+the priest's features as he listened with fixed attention to the
+soft pure voice, vibrating with tenderness and pity as she told him
+of the love that sought to sacrifice itself for love's sake only.
+
+"In your Creed and in mine,"--she said--"there is no union which is
+real or binding save the Spiritual,--and this may be consummated in
+some way beyond our knowledge when once the sacred rite is said. You
+need no explanation from me,--you who are a member and future
+denizen of the Golden City,--you, who are set apart to live long
+after these poor human creatures have passed away with the
+unthinking millions of the time--and you can have no hesitation to
+unite them as far as they CAN be united, so that they may at least
+be saved from the malicious tongues of an always evil-speaking
+world. You once asked me to tell you of the few moments of real
+happiness I have known,--this will be one of the keenest joys to me
+if I can satisfy this loving-hearted girl and aid her to carry out
+her self-chosen martyrdom. And you must help me!"
+
+Gently Aloysius laid his hand on her bent head.
+
+"It will be indeed a martyrdom!" he said, slowly, "Long and
+torturing! Think well of it!--a woman, youthful and beautiful,
+chained to a mere breathing image of man,--a creature who cannot
+recognise either persons or objects, who is helpless to move, and
+who will remain in that pitiable state all his life, if he lives!--
+dear child, are you convinced there is no other way?"
+
+"Not for her!" Morgana replied--"She has set her soul to try if God
+will help her to restore him,--she will surround him with the
+constant influence of a perfectly devoted love. Dare we say there
+shall be no healing power in such an influence?--we who know so much
+of which the world is ignorant!"
+
+He stroked her shining hair with a careful tenderness as one might
+stroke the soft plumage of a bird.
+
+"And you?" he said, in a low tone--"What of you?"
+
+She raised her eyes to his. A light of heaven's own radiance shone
+in those blue orbs--an angelic peace beyond all expression.
+
+"What should there be of me except the dream come true?" she
+responded, smiling--"You know my plans,--you also know my destiny,
+for I have told you everything! You will be the controller of all my
+wealth, entrusted to carry out all my wishes, till it is time either
+for you to come where I am, or for me to return hither. We never
+know how or when that may be. But it has all seemed plain sailing
+for me since I saw the city called 'Brazen' but which WE know is
+Golden!--and when I found that you belonged to it, and were only
+stationed here for a short time, I knew I could give you my entire
+confidence. It is not as if we were of the passing world or its
+ways--we are of the New Race, and time does not count with us."
+
+"Quite true," he said--"But for these persons in whom you are
+interested, time is still considered--and for the girl it will be
+long!"
+
+"Not with such love as hers!" replied Morgana. "Each moment, each
+hour will be filled with hope and prayer and constant vigilance.
+Love makes all things easy! It is useless to contend with a fate
+which both the man and woman have made for themselves. He is--I
+should say he was a scientist, who discovered the means of
+annihilating any section of humanity at his own wish and will--he
+played with the fires of God and brought annihilation on himself. MY
+discovery--the force that moves my air-ship--the force that is the
+vital element of all who live in the Golden City--is the same as
+his!--but _I_ use it for health and movement, progress and power--
+not for the destruction of any living soul! By one single false step
+he has caused the death and misery of hundreds of helpless human
+creatures--and this terror has recoiled on his own head. The girl
+Manella has no evil thought in her--she simply loves!--her love is
+ill placed, but she also has brought her own destiny on herself. You
+have worked--and so have I--WITH the universal force, not as the
+world does, AGAINST it,--and we have made OURSELVES what we are and
+what we SHALL BE. There is no other way either forward or backward,-
+-you know there is not!" Here she rose from her knees and confronted
+him, a light aerial creature of glowing radiance and elfin
+loveliness--"And you must fulfil her wish--and mine!"
+
+He rose also and stood erect, a noble figure of a man with a
+dignified beauty of mien and feature that seemed to belong to the
+classic age rather than ours.
+
+"So be it!" he said--"I will carry out all your commands to the
+letter! May I just say that your generosity to Giulio Rivardi seems
+almost unnecessary? To endow him with a fortune for life is surely
+too indulgent! Does he merit such bounty at your hands?"
+
+She smiled.
+
+"Dear Father Aloysius, Giulio has lost his heart to me!" she said--
+"Or what he calls his heart! He should have some recompense for the
+loss! He wants to restore his old Roman villa--and when I am gone he
+will have nothing to distract him from this artistic work,--I leave
+him the means to do it! I hope he will marry--it is the best thing
+for him!"
+
+She turned to go.
+
+"And your own Palazzo d'Oro?--"
+
+"Will become the abode of self-sacrificing love," she replied--"It
+could not be put to better use! It was a fancy of mine;--I love it
+and its gardens--and I should have tried to live there had I not
+found out the secret of a large and longer life!" She paused--then
+added--"To-morrow morning you will come?"
+
+He bent his head.
+
+"To-morrow!"
+
+With a salute of mingled reverence and affection she left him. He
+watched her go,--and hearing the bell begin to chime in the chapel
+for vespers, he lifted his eyes for a moment in silent prayer. A
+light flashed downward, playing on his hands like a golden ripple,--
+and he stood quietly expectant and listening. A Voice floated along
+the Ray--"You are doing well and rightly!" it said--"You will
+release her now from the strain of seeming to be what she is not.
+She is of the New Race, and her spirit is advanced too far to endure
+the grossness and materialism of the Old generation. She deserves
+all she has studied and worked for,--lasting life, lasting beauty,
+lasting love! Nothing must hinder her now!"
+
+"Nothing shall!" he answered.
+
+The Ray lessened in brilliancy and gradually diminished till it
+entirely vanished,--and Don Aloysius, with the rapt expression of a
+saint and visionary, entered the chapel where his brethren were
+already assembled, and chanted with them--
+
+     "Magna opera Domini; exquisita in omnes voluntates ejus!"
+
+The next morning, all radiant with sunshine, saw the strangest of
+nuptial ceremonies,--one that surely had seldom, if ever, been
+witnessed before in all the strange happenings of human chance.
+Manella Soriso, pale as a white arum lily, her rich dark hair
+adorned with a single spray of orange-blossom gathered from the
+garden, stood trembling beside the bed where lay stretched out the
+immobile form of the once active, world-defiant Roger Seaton. His
+eyes, wide open and staring into vacancy, were, like dull pebbles,
+fixed in his head,--his face was set and rigid as a mask of clay--
+only his regular breathing gave evidence of life. Manella's pitiful
+gazing on this ruin of the man to whom she had devoted her heart and
+soul, her tender sorrow, her yearning beauty, might have almost
+moved a stone image to a thrill of response,--but not a flicker of
+expression appeared on the frozen features of that terrible fallen
+pillar of human self-sufficiency. Standing beside the bed with
+Manella was Marco Ardini, intensely watchful and eager to note even
+a quiver of the flesh or the tremor of a muscle,--and near him was
+Lady Kingswood, terrified yet enthralled by the scene, and anxious
+on behalf of Morgana, who looked statuesque and pensive like a small
+attendant angel close to Don Aloysius. He, in his priestly robes,
+read the marriage service with soft and impressive intonation,
+himself speaking the responses for the bride-groom,--and taking
+Manella's hand he placed it on Seaton's, clasping the two together,
+the one so yielding and warm, the other stiff as marble, and setting
+the golden marriage ring which Morgana had given, on the bride's
+finger. As he made the sign of the cross and uttered the final
+blessing, Manella sank on her knees and covered her face. There
+followed a tense silence--Aloysius laid his hand on her bent head--
+
+"God help and bless you!" he said, solemnly--"Only the Divine Power
+can give you strength to bear the burden you have taken on
+yourself!"
+
+But at his words she sprang up, her eyes glowing with a great joy.
+
+"It is no burden!" she said--"I have prayed to be his slave--and now
+I am his wife! That is more than I ever dared to dream of!--for now
+I have the right to care for him, to work for him, and no one can
+separate me from him! What happiness for me! But I will not take a
+mean advantage of this--ah, no!--no good, Father! Listen!--I swear
+before you and the holy Cross you wear, that if he recovers he shall
+never know!--I will leave him at once without a word--he shall think
+I am a servant in his employ--or rather he shall not think at all
+about me for I will go where he can never find me, and he will be as
+free as ever he was! Yes, truly!--by the blessed Madonna I swear it!
+I will kill myself rather than let him know!"
+
+She looked regally beautiful, her face flushed with the pride and
+love of her soul,--and in her newly gained privilege as a wife she
+bent down and kissed the pallid face that lay like the face of a
+corpse on the pillow before her.
+
+"He is a poor wounded child just now!" she murmured, tenderly--"But
+I will care for him in his weakness and sorrow! The doctor will tell
+me what to do--and it shall all be done! I will neglect nothing--as
+for money, I have none--but I will work--"
+
+Morgana put an arm about her.
+
+"Dear, do not think of that!" she said--"For the present you will
+stay here--I am going on a journey very soon, and you and Lady
+Kingswood will take care of my house till I return. Be quite
+satisfied!--You will have all you want for him and for yourself.
+Professor Ardini will talk to you now and tell you everything--come
+away--"
+
+But Manella was gazing intently at the figure on the bed--she saw
+its grey lips move. With startling suddenness a harsh voice smote
+the air--
+
+"There shall be no more wars! There can be none! My Great Secret! I
+am Master of the World!"
+
+She shrank and shivered, and a faint sobbing cry escaped her.
+
+"Come!" said Morgana again,--and gently led her away. The spray of
+orange-blossom fell from her hair as she moved, and Don Aloyslus,
+stooping, picked it up. Marco Ardini saw his action.
+
+"You will keep that as a souvenir of this strange marriage?" he
+said.
+
+"No,--" and Don Aloysius touched the white fragrant flower with his
+crucifix--"I will lay it as a votive offering on the altar of the
+Eternal Virgin!"
+
+       *        *        *        *        *        *
+
+About a fortnight later life at the Palazzo d'Oro had settled into
+organised lines of method and routine. Professor Ardini had selected
+two competent men attendants, skilled in surgery and medicine to
+watch Seaton's case with all the care trained nursing could give,
+and himself had undertaken to visit the patient regularly and report
+his condition. Seaton's marriage to Manella Soriso had been briefly
+announced in the European papers and cabled to the American Press,
+Senator Gwent being one of the first who saw it thus chronicled,
+much to his amazement.
+
+"He has actually become sane at last!" he soliloquised, "And beauty
+has conquered science! I gave the girl good advice--I told her to
+marry him if she could,--and she's done it! I wonder how they
+escaped that earthquake? Perhaps that brought him to his senses!
+Well, well! I daresay I shall be seeing them soon over here--I
+suppose they are spending their honeymoon with Morgana. Curious
+affair! I'd like to know the ins and outs of it!"
+
+"Have you seen that Roger Seaton is married?" was the question asked
+of him by every one he knew, especially by the flashing society
+butterfly once Lydia Herbert, who in these early days of her
+marriage was getting everything she could out of her millionaire--
+"And NOT to Morgana! Just think! What a disappointment for her!--I'm
+sure she was in love with him!"
+
+"I thought so"--Gwent answered, cautiously--"And he with her! But--
+one never knows--"
+
+"No, one never does!" laughed the fair Lydia--"Poor Morgana! Left on
+the stalk! But she's so rich it won't matter. She can marry anybody
+she likes."
+
+"Marriage isn't everything," said Gwent--"To some it may be heaven,-
+-but to others--"
+
+"The worser place!"--agreed Lydia--"And Morgana is not like ordinary
+women. I wonder what she's doing, and when we shall see her again?"
+
+"Yes--I wonder!" Gwent responded vaguely,--and the subject dropped.
+
+They might have had more than ordinary cause to "wonder" had they
+been able to form even a guess as to the manner and intentions of
+life held by the strange half spiritual creature whom they imagined
+to be but an ordinary mortal moved by the same ephemeral aims and
+desires as the rest of the grosser world. Who,--even among
+scientists, accustomed as they are to study the evolution of grubs
+into lovely rainbow-winged shapes, and the transformation of
+ordinary weeds into exquisite flowers of perfect form and glorious
+colour, goes far enough or deep enough to realise similar capability
+of transformation in a human organism self-trained to so evolve and
+develop itself? Who, at this time of day,--even with the hourly
+vivid flashes kindled by the research lamps of science, reverts to
+former theories of men like De Gabalis, who held that beings in
+process of finer evolution and formation, and known as "elementals,"
+nourishing their own growth into exquisite existence, through the
+radio-force of air and fire, may be among us, all unrecognised, yet
+working their way out of lowness to highness, indifferent to worldly
+loves, pleasures and opinions, and only bent on the attainment of
+immortal life? Such beliefs serve only as material for the scoffer
+and iconoclast,--nevertheless they may be true for all that, and may
+in the end confound the mockery of materialism which in itself is
+nothing but the deep shadow cast by a great light.
+
+ The strangest and most dramatic happenings have the knack of
+settling down into the commonplace,--and so in due course the days
+at the Palazzo d'Oro went on tranquilly,--Manella being established
+there and known as "la bella Signora Seaton" by the natives of the
+little surrounding villages, who were gradually brought to
+understand the helpless condition of her husband and pitied her
+accordingly. Lady Kingswood had agreed to stay as friend and
+protectress to the girl as long as Morgana desired it,--indeed she
+had no wish to leave the beautiful Sicilian home she had so
+fortunately found, and where she was treated with so much kindness
+and consideration.
+
+There was no lack or stint of wealth to carry out every arranged
+plan, and Manella was too simple and primitive in her nature to
+question anything that her "little white angel" as she called her,
+suggested or commanded. Intensely grateful for the affectionate care
+bestowed upon her, she acquiesced in what she understood to be the
+methods of possible cure for the ruined man to whom she had bound
+her life.
+
+"If he gets well--quite, quite well"--she said, lifting her splendid
+dark eyes to Morgana's blue as "love-in-a-mist" "I will go away and
+give him to you!"
+
+And she meant it, having no predominant idea in her mind save that
+of making her elect beloved happy.
+
+Meanwhile Morgana announced her intention of taking another aerial
+voyage in the "White Eagle"--much to the joy of Giulio Rivardi.
+Receiving his orders to prepare the wonderful air-ship for a long
+flight, he and Gaspard worked energetically to perfect every detail.
+Where he had previously felt a certain sense of fear as to the
+capabilities of the great vessel, controlled by a force of which
+Morgana alone had the secret, he was now full of certainty and
+confidence, and told her so.
+
+"I am glad"--he said--"that you are leaving this place where you
+have installed people who to me seem quite out of keeping with it.
+That terrible man who shouts 'I am master of the world'!--ah, cara
+Madonna!--I did not work at your fairy Palazzo d'Oro for such an
+occupant!"
+
+"I know you did not;"-=she answered, gently--"Nor did I intend it to
+be so occupied. I dreamed of it as a home of pleasure where I should
+dwell--alone! And you said it would be lonely!--you remember?"
+
+"I said it was a place for love!" he replied.
+
+"You were right! And love inhabits it--love of the purest, most
+unselfish nature--"
+
+"Love that is a cruel martyrdom!" he interposed.
+
+"True!" and her eyes shone with a strange brilliancy--"But love--as
+the world knows it--is never anything else! There, do not frown, my
+friend! You will never wear its crown of thorns! And you are glad I
+am going away?"
+
+"Yes!--glad that you will have a change"--he said--"Your constant
+care and anxiety for these people whom we rescued from death must
+have tired you out unconsciously. You will enjoy a free flight
+through space,--and the ship is in perfect condition; she will carry
+you like an angel in the air!"
+
+She smiled and gave him her hand.
+
+"Good Giulio!--you are quite a romancist!--you talk of angels
+without believing in them!"
+
+"I believe in them when I look at YOU!" he said, with all an
+Italian's impulsive gallantry,
+
+"Very pretty of you!" and she withdrew her hand from his too fervent
+clasp,--"I feel sorry for myself that I cannot rightly appreciate so
+charming a compliment!"
+
+"It is not a compliment"--he declared, vehemently; "It is a truth!"
+
+Her eyes dwelt on him with a wistful kindness.
+
+"You are what some people call 'a good fellow,' Giulio!" she said--
+"And you deserve to be very happy. I hope you will be so! I want you
+to prosper so that you may restore your grand old villa to its
+former beauty,--I also want you to marry--and bring up a big
+family"--here she laughed a little--"A family of sons and daughters
+who will be grateful to you, and not waste every penny you give
+them--though that is the modern way of sons and daughters."
+
+She paused, smiling at his moody expression. "And you say everything
+is ready?--the 'White Eagle' is prepared for flight?"
+
+"She will leave the shed at a moment's touch"--he answered--"when
+YOU supply the motive power!"
+
+She nodded comprehensively, and thought a moment. "Come to me the
+day after to-morrow"--she said--"You will then have your orders."
+
+"Is it to be a long flight this time?" he asked.
+
+"Not so long as to California!" she answered--"But long enough!"
+
+With that she left him. And he betook himself to the air-shed where
+the superb "White Eagle" rested all a-quiver for departure,
+palpitating, or so it seemed to him, with a strange eagerness for
+movement which struck him as unusual and "uncanny" in a mere piece
+of mechanism.
+
+The next day moved on tranquilly. Morgana wrote many letters--and
+varied this occupation by occasionally sitting in the loggia to talk
+with Manella and Lady Kingswood, both of whom now seemed the natural
+inhabitants of the Palazzo d'Oro. She spoke easily of her intended
+air-trip,--so that they accepted her intention as a matter of
+course, Manella only entreating--"Do not be long away!" her lovely,
+eloquent eyes emphasising her appeal. Now and again the terrible
+cries of "There shall be no more wars! There can be none! My Great
+Secret! I am Master of the World!" rang through the house despite
+the closed doors,--cries which they feigned not to hear, though
+Manella winced with pain, as at a dagger thrust, each time the
+sounds echoed on the air.
+
+And the night came,--mildly glorious, with a full moon shining in an
+almost clear sky--clear save for little delicate wings of snowy
+cloud drifting in the east like wandering shapes of birds that
+haunted the domain of sunrise. Giulio Rivardi, leaning out of one of
+the richly sculptured window arches of his half-ruined villa, looked
+at the sky with pleasurable anticipation of the morrow's intended
+voyage in the "White Eagle."
+
+"The weather will be perfect!" he thought--"She will be pleased. And
+when she is pleased no woman can be more charming! She is not
+beautiful, like Manella--but she is something more than beautiful--
+she is bewitching! I wonder where she means to go!"
+
+Suddenly a thought struck him,--a vivid impression coming from he
+knew not whence--an idea that he had forgotten a small item of
+detail in the air-ship which its owner might or might not notice,
+but which would certainly imply some slight forgetfulness on his
+part. He glanced at his watch,--it was close on midnight. Acting on
+a momentary impulse he decided not to wait till morning, but to go
+at once down to the shed and see that everything in and about the
+vessel was absolutely and finally in order. As he walked among the
+perfumed tangles of shrub and flower in his garden, and out towards
+the sea-shore he was impressed by the great silence everywhere
+around him. Everything looked like a moveless picture--a study in
+still life. Passing through a little olive wood which lay between
+his own grounds and the sea, he paused as he came out of the shadow
+of the trees and looked towards the height crowned by the Palazzo
+d'Oro, where from the upper windows twinkled a few lights showing
+the position of the room where the "master of the world" lay
+stretched in brainless immobility, waited upon by medical nurses
+ever on the watch, and a wife of whom he knew nothing, guarding him
+with the fixed devotion of a faithful dog rather than of a human
+being. Going onwards in a kind of abstract reverie, he came to a
+halt again on reaching the shore, enchanted by the dreamy loveliness
+of the scene. In an open stretch of dazzling brilliancy the sea
+presented itself to his eyes like a delicate network of jewels
+finely strung on swaying threads of silver, and he gazed upon it as
+one might gaze on the "fairy lands forlorn" of Keats in his
+enchanting poesy. Never surely, he thought, had he seen a night so
+beautiful,--so perfect in its expression of peace. He walked
+leisurely,--the long shed which sheltered the air-ship was just
+before him, its black outline silhouetted against the sky--but as he
+approached it more nearly, something caused him to stop abruptly and
+stare fixedly as though stricken by some sudden terror--then he
+dashed off at a violent run, till he came to a breathless halt,
+crying out--"Gran' Dio! It has gone!"
+
+Gone! The shed was empty! No air-ship was there, poised trembling on
+its own balance all prepared for flight,--the wonderful "White
+Eagle" had unfurled its wings and fled! Whither? Like a madman he
+rushed up and down, shouting and calling in vain--it was after
+midnight and there was no one about to hear him. He started to run
+to the Palazzo d'Oro to give the alarm--but was held back--held by
+an indescribable force which he was powerless to resist. He
+struggled with all his might,--uselessly.
+
+"Morganna!" he cried in a desperate voice--"Morganna!"
+
+Running down to the edge of the sea he gazed across it and up to the
+wonderful sky through which the moon rolled lazily like a silver
+ball. Was there nothing to be seen there save that moon and the
+moon-dimmed stars? With eager straining eyes he searched every
+quarter of the visible space--stay! Was that a white dove soaring
+eastwards?--or a cloud sinking to its rest?
+
+"Morgana!" he cried again, stretching out his arms in despair--"She
+has gone! And alone!"
+
+Even as he spoke the dove-like shape was lost to sight beyond the
+shining of the evening star.
+
+
+
+L'Envoi
+
+Several months ago the ruin of a great air-ship was found on the
+outskirts of the Great Desert so battered and broken as to make its
+mechanism unrecognisable. No one could trace its origin,--no one
+could discover the method of its design. There was no remnant of any
+engine, and its wings were cut to ribbons. The travellers who came
+upon its fragments half buried in the sand left it where they found
+it, deciding that a terrible catastrophe had overtaken the
+unfortunate aviators who had piloted it thus far. They spoke of it
+when they returned to Europe, but came upon no one who could offer a
+clue to its possible origin. These same travellers were those who a
+short time since filled a certain section of the sensational press
+with tales of a "Brazen City" seen from the desert in the distance,
+with towers and cupolas that shone like brass or like "the city of
+pure gold," revealed to St. John the Divine, where "in the midst of
+the street of it" is the Tree of Life. Such tales were and are
+received with scorn by the world's majority, for whom food and money
+constitute the chief interest of existence,--nevertheless tradition
+sometimes proves to be true, and dreams become realities. However
+this may be, Morgana lives,--and can make her voice heard when she
+will along the "Sound Ray"--that wonderful "wireless" which is soon
+to be declared to the world. For there is no distance that is not
+bridged by light,--and no separation of sounds that cannot be again
+brought into unison and harmony. "There are more things in heaven
+and earth than are dreamed of in our philosophy,"--and the "Golden
+City" is one of those things! "Masters of the world" are poor
+creatures at best,--but the secret Makers of the New Race are the
+gods of the Future!
+
+
+
+The End
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg Etext of The Secret Power, by Marie Corelli
+
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