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| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-06 19:18:23 -0800 |
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| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-06 19:18:23 -0800 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f7fb367 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #53802 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/53802) diff --git a/old/53802-8.txt b/old/53802-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index a00beaf..0000000 --- a/old/53802-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9845 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, Drowsy, by John Ames Mitchell, Illustrated by -Angus Macdonall and John Ames Mitchell - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - - -Title: Drowsy - - -Author: John Ames Mitchell - - - -Release Date: December 25, 2016 [eBook #53802] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DROWSY*** - - -E-text prepared by Ralph and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team -(http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by -Internet Archive (https://archive.org) - - - -Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this - file which includes the original illustrations. - See 53802-h.htm or 53802-h.zip: - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/53802/53802-h/53802-h.htm) - or - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/53802/53802-h.zip) - - - Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive. See - https://archive.org/details/drowsyjam00mitciala - - - - - -DROWSY - - - * * * * * * - -BY THE SAME AUTHOR - - - THE SUMMER SCHOOL OF PHILOSOPHY AT MT. DESERT - THE ROMANCE OF THE MOON - THE LAST AMERICAN - "LIFE'S" FAIRY TALES - AMOS JUDD - THAT FIRST AFFAIR - DR. THORNE'S IDEA - THE PINES OF LORY - THE VILLA CLAUDIA - THE SILENT WAR - PANDORA'S BOX - - * * * * * * - - -[Illustration: "A FANTASTIC, SOLEMN REGION"--_Page 208_] - - -DROWSY - -by - -JOHN AMES MITCHELL - -_Author of "The Last American," "Amos Judd," -"Pines of Lory," "Pandora's Box," etc._ - -With Illustrations by -Angus Macdonall and the Author - - - - - - - -[Illustration] - -New York -Frederick A. Stokes Company -Publishers - -Copyright, 1917, by -John Ames Mitchell - -All rights reserved, including that of translation -into foreign languages - - - - -To the Reader - - -This is not a fairy tale. - -The wonders of to-day, we are told by scientists, will be to-morrow the -common things of daily life. - -Wireless telegraphy, it appears, is but the crude beginning to a deeper -knowledge of the mysteries that surround us. Waves of thought, like -waves of light, obedient to our will, may supplant the spoken word and -the written message. - -And we learn that Space, the borderless abyss through which we move, is -vibrant with electric life. But still unsolved is the mystery of the -force that holds the moon, for instance, to its orbit around the earth. -And it holds it with a mightier power than bars of steel. - -If it be true that the human voice goes out into space, on and forever, -as other waves, why should not a lover on a nearby planet receive the -message from an earthly maiden? If waves of thought keep pace with -waves of light, the call of a human heart would surely reach him. - -This tale of Drowsy is the somewhat romantic narrative of a woman -and a reckless lover. An unusual lover, to be sure, with a singular -inheritance; but very human--and with a full equipment of human faults -and virtues. While his achievements may seem to us incredible, the -coming generation may regard them as commonplace events. - -It was Pliny, the elder, who said, "Indeed, what is there that does not -appear marvelous when it comes to our knowledge for the first time?" - -So, if this story of Drowsy seems a fairy tale, let us remember that -the Atlantic Cable would be a fairy tale to Columbus. - - - - -CONTENTS - - - CHAPTER PAGE - - I. THEIR OWN AFFAIR 1 - - II. HOW THE ACQUAINTANCE BEGAN 19 - - III. UNCLE HECTOR'S VERDICT 33 - - IV. MATRIMONIAL 43 - - V. HE MEETS TWO LADIES 72 - - VI. HE ALMOST GETS RELIGION 103 - - VII. TOWARD THE LIGHT 116 - - VIII. A WORKER OF MIRACLES 132 - - IX. DREAMS? 144 - - X. THE FARTHEST TRAVELER 162 - - XI. UNSIGHT UNSEEN 172 - - XII. "INCREDIBLE!" 189 - - XIII. A MESSAGE 221 - - XIV. OVER SEAS 229 - - XV. A GARDEN OF WONDERS 235 - - XVI. THE SOUL OF A SONG 251 - - XVII. "I MEAN IT" 259 - - XVIII. THE CAŃON OF DESPAIR 267 - - XIX. A YOUNG MAN TALKS 273 - - XX. ANOTHER MESSAGE 280 - - XXI. ABOVE THE CLOUDS 290 - - - - -Illustrations - - - "A fantastic, solemn, region" _Frontispiece_ - - FACING - PAGE - "Gracefully he floated over their heads" 28 - - "A cocoanut palace against a mountain of vanilla ice - cream" 114 - - "I want to know how the earth looks when you are - standing on the moon" 120 - - "And now, today, down at the bottom of the ocean, - those cities and those marble temples are still - standing" 124 - - "Could lift it in the air to any height, crew, passengers, - and cargo" 154 - - "And glide forever, a homeless vagrant through the - dusky void" 170 - - "Far and fast, even for a bird man" 180 - - "But who ever saw such a diamond?" 198 - - "A most unusual country!" 206 - - "But once a city?" 208 - - "Older than human history" 209 - - "The dried bones of its own past, whatever it was" 212 - - "But why build their cities in those sunless chasms?" 213 - - "And over everything an awful silence" 214 - - "A world of dust and ashes" 215 - - "The diamonds are there, and plenty of them" 216 - - "With long arms and very short legs" 217 - - "But the Diva was far away. She heard nothing save - the thing unheard by others" 226 - - - - -DROWSY - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -I - -THEIR OWN AFFAIR - - -Breath of Scandal. - -Imperishable zephyr! Dispenser of delight to all:--save those it -touches. Floating in playful sport around the globe, it does little -harm to callous sinners. But it blights, with a special and vociferous -joy, superior persons. - -The higher and more immaculate the victim the greater the general -mirth. In the wake of pleasure it may have, at times, a comic side; at -other times it kills--and with agonies that are not for publication. - -In a certain month of May it loitered up the eastern shore of the -Adriatic, lingering briefly at Rovigno, just long enough to nip the -budding romance of an interesting widow. At Orsera it electrified the -leading citizens by linking, in a gentle whisper, the name of a lady -of spotless reputation with a Platonic Friend. It spared Parenzo. But -at Cittanuova it fanned into flame a general curiosity regarding the -relations of a Captain of Cavalry with the wife of a certain careless -husband. At S. Lorenzo it merely put two lovers on their guard. - -Then onward for Trieste. In this search for savory victims it -overlooked a villa high up a hillside. Here, indeed, the Breath of -Scandal might have entered and rejoiced! But the villa, as if guarding -against this very visitor, had drawn before its face a screen of trees -and vines and flowers. As wise old Bumble takes his morning nectar from -the choicest flowers, so here might this fateful zephyr have drunk his -fill. - -There was mystery about this villa. - -Natives, whose business brought them in the vicinity, were enchanted by -the beauty of a woman's voice. In melody and in power it was, to them, -a revelation. Two middle-aged gentlemen--one of them the Curé of S. -Pietro in Selve--both lovers of music and who attended operas at Milan -and other cities heard the celestial voice one day when passing near -the villa. They were charmed. Both knew it was no ordinary singer. But -the singer's identity was not discovered. - -On this particular morning a young man was sitting alone in the -Loggia of the villa. Westward, through one of the open arches, he -gazed upon the deep, blue waters of the Adriatic, far down below. -Small boats, with sails of various colors, floated here and there, -like lazy butterflies. The man was reclining in an easy chair like an -invalid--which he was. Bandages encased his throat. A bullet through -his neck, two months ago, would explain these bandages. It was the -price he paid for striking an Austrian officer across the mouth. The -Austrian officer had made an offensive remark concerning the Diva. The -young American was a good shot and in the duel, three days later, he -sent a bullet through his adversary's chest. It so happened that the -Austrian, being also a good shot, sent a corresponding missile through -the young American's neck. Then the Diva and her defender had fled -to this villa; not together, but separately, to escape the Breath of -Scandal. Here, in this ideal nest, they found peace and privacy. Not -under their own names. Ah, no! If the lady's identity were suspected -the thrilling news would have circled the globe. One cannot be an opera -singer of world-wide fame and suddenly become obscure. The Diva's -Italian friends and the public believed that she was rusticating -somewhere, with relatives. The American's friends in Paris had heard -about the duel, but knew nothing of his whereabouts. So, alone and -happy, here on this Istrian hillside, they laughed at Mrs. Grundy, -and lived and loved at leisure. And what sweeter victory than looking -down from a perch of safety upon the world below where the Breath of -Scandal spared neither the guilty nor the innocent? Kind providence -had so managed that the Diva's immediate family was not inquisitive. -It consisted solely of her father, a famous scientist, whose portrait, -with its high forehead, shaggy hair and drowsy eyes was a familiar -face to Italian students. So absorbed he was in study and experiment -that the adventures of his yet more famous daughter caused him no -uneasiness. Had the Breath of Scandal entered his laboratory, it would -have been ignored--or ejected as a liar. The Diva's husband--known as -"The Calamity" by her friends--a handsome gentleman of noble family, -had long since become immune to the Breath of Scandal--so well encased -in his disrepute that he could sink no further. He and the Breath of -Scandal were boon companions. At present he held a government position -in Siam. Three years he had been there, and might remain for ten years -more. So, at the cozy Istrian villa were no jealous eyes to disturb a -lover's dream. - -On this May morning, too warm, perhaps, in the sunshine, but perfect -in the shade, the American, in his reclining chair, was listening -to a singing voice. It came to him from an inner room of the villa. -Dreamily he listened, with half closed eyes, and smiling mouth. It had -been rather a handsome face before the duel. Now the features were too -sharp, and the eyes showed lack of sleep. This old Hungarian song--a -mother's prayer, now coming from the Diva's lips, and heart--was her -lover's favorite, and her own. It was given with the depth of feeling -and the art of a great singer, herself soon to be a mother. There are -things in music, often the simplest songs, that stir the imagination -and reach the secret chamber of the soul beyond all others. This -Hungarian prayer was one. It had become, to these two people, a hymn of -hope, with its love and fears, its yearnings and its joy. And into it -the Diva gave her very soul. - -The song ended. Then, with eyes still moist, the Diva walked out into -the loggia. - -A pleasant thing to look upon, this goddess of the ravishing voice. -There seemed bewitchment in her figure, in her carriage, in her head -and neck, in the low, wide brow with its blackest of black hair. -Beneath the heavy lashes of the midnight eyes lurked tragedy. Their -mysterious depths disturbed the hearts of men. Yet her lips told more -of mirth. Certain critics maintained that her greatest triumphs were -in comedy. But as nearly all grand opera is for tragedy she rarely -appeared in lighter rôles. This morning, as she stepped out into -the loggia, she could have passed for almost any heroine--either of -tragedy or comedy. Her robe, a thing of light material, might be any -shade or color; perhaps a delicate purple ground with a smiling yellow -pattern--or vice versa; so artfully designed that the outlines of her -figure became elusive. - -She bent over, kissed the invalid, and pressed a cheek against his -face. Then she straightened up and stood beside him, looking down with -a smile that was more than friendly. The invalid returned the smile. It -was an easy thing to do. For what is easier than returning the smile of -a singing goddess vainly sought by other men, when she descends from -pinnacles of glory--and freely, joyfully surrenders herself, and all -from an overpowering love? In the smile that lingered between them were -things whose utterance is not in words of any language:--things that -true lovers, and they alone, can ever know. Close beside him she drew -a wicker chair, and she sat in silence for a moment, studying his face. -Earnestly she looked into his eyes as if searching his secret thoughts. - -Flowers may be the language of love, but in this case it was also -French. The Diva was Italian and her French was more than good. And -Dr. Alton's French, for an American, was not so very bad. But since -the leaden messenger had entered his neck three months ago, he had -spoken no word, of French, nor of any other language. It was still a -question whether he would regain his voice or be forever mute. And in -those three months of ceaseless devotion there had come to the Diva an -amazing gift. So intense had been her desire to know his thoughts, so -persistent her efforts to know what his silent lips would utter, that -at last the wish was granted. A mysterious power had come: a power that -transferred to her own brain--or soul--the thoughts his lips could not -express. - -The conversation to an eavesdropper would have seemed a monologue by -the lady, with long pauses. In these pauses she was reading her lover's -thoughts. The young man's pleasure in these gazings was even greater -than the Diva's. Within her eyes, themselves an entrancement, he found -love and infinite devotion. Under their spell he asked no greater joy -than opening wide the secret chambers of his soul. - -"Did the little blond hero happen to notice how I finished the prayer -song this morning?" - -The little blond hero--who was some inches taller than the Diva when on -his feet--nodded. He nodded slowly and carefully in consideration of -the bandaged throat. - -"And that it was a little different from the way I usually sing it?" - -Again the answer was a careful nod. - -"How did he like it? Is it better that way?" - -This time, after the faint, affirmative sign, she gazed longer into the -adoring eyes, waiting a less simple answer. She found it, and with no -aid from his lips. - -"Yes, that was my idea precisely. More strength in the final passages; -the deeper feeling of a mother's appeal." Then, with closed eyes and -clasped hands: "May the prayer be answered, for my whole soul is in it!" - -On the clasped hands the invalid laid one of his own, with a gentle -pressure, telling of sympathy, hope and confidence. She opened her eyes -and returned his smile. "Yes, yes. We must be cheerful; always cheerful -and full of hope. It will be better for the child." - -After a silence, in which both looked thoughtfully over the tree tops, -toward the distant coast of Italy, beyond the butterfly sails far below -moving here and there on the shimmering surface of the Adriatic, she -turned, in response to another pressure of the hand, and again looked -deep into the patient's eyes. - -"No, Dr. Cervini says there's no harm in my singing unless I fatigue -myself. And I never do that." - -But his face was anxious. So with an air of cheerful confidence she -exclaimed: - -"I have decided on a boy. Yes, a boy! Smile again. I love to see you -smile. Why a boy? Because boys are stronger and bigger than girls; more -reasoning; more honest. What? Not so lovable as girls. Oh, nonsense!" - -Here a pause. - -"I don't quite understand. Think that again.--Oh, well I shouldn't -mind if he was. I love bad boys. Of course we don't want a cowardly, -mean-spirited, stingy, cold-blooded, deceitful kind of badness." - -Here, after another pause, she laughed. "Yes, I suppose that is just -what I do mean--a bad boy who is good." - -Another silence, and another laugh. "No, never!" "But tell me, Defender -of Women, why do you wish for a girl? Because what? She might be a -perfect copy of myself? Oh, honey-mouthed humbug!" - -She rose, stooped over, kissed him, and sat down again. - -"Well, I shall be happy, very happy, whatever the Bon Dieu gives us." - -The next silence was longer. - -"Yes, that is all very true. Heredity counts. There's no doubt of that. -Half Italian, half American--there are worse combinations. But I am -doubtful about the American half." Here she frowned and slowly shook -her head. "I have a torturing suspicion that all Americans--with one -heavenly exception--are ignoble things." - -The blond hero smiled and closed his eyes. - -"Not an opera singer in the whole country," she went on. "No music, no -art, no Roman ruins; just a race of handsome, reckless, blood-thirsty -young doctors. And the whole miserable wilderness, the whole continent -itself, was discovered by an Italian! Think of that! Think of how much -we owe Columbus, you and I! Were it not for him we should never have -met--for you would not exist. You owe everything to Italy. Still, we -love each other just as much. That is the important thing. Nothing else -really matters." But she frowned and shook a finger. "Nevertheless, -if it's a boy I shall name him Columbus Michael Angelo Dante Victor -Emanuel Alton, just to hide the dishonor of his father's nationality." - -The invalid clasped the finger, and held it. For a moment two pairs of -eyes looked deep into each other. Then the Diva laughed. "What ideas -you have! The Good God gave you a sunny heart, my beloved. And you -know--Oh, you know well--that whatever----" - -At the sound of a distant door bell she stopped abruptly. Into her face -came a look of mild alarm. Both knew that no visitor was welcome. Who -could enter this bower unless shadowed by the Breath of Scandal? The -next moment, however, her face brightened. "Oh--of course! It's the -good Dr. Cervini. I had forgotten he was to come early to-day." - -The man who entered kissed the tips of the Diva's fingers. Then he -shook hands with the American. - -Tall, thin, of brown and leathery skin, with a prominent Roman nose, -fierce mustaches and pointed iron gray beard, he could easily have -passed for Don Quixote. But the fierce mustaches failed to hide the -lines of mirth about the mouth. And from two calm eyes beneath the -threatening eyebrows gleamed sympathy and benevolence. It was generally -believed that Dr. Cervini had ushered into the world more princes and -princesses, more grand dukes and duchesses, more future kings and -queens than any man in Europe. In those cases where there might be a -question as to the propriety of the little one's arrival, he was more -than trustworthy. In such affairs the Silence of the Tomb, compared -with Dr. Cervini, was noisy gossip. - -After various questions concerning the patient's progress he exclaimed: - -"What patience, what godlike self-control are exhibited by Dr. Alton! -Younger and more up-to-date than I, with a perfect knowledge of the -human throat, yet he submits to my advice and antiquated treatment! -Medals should be his!" - -Dr. Alton, of course, protested, in silence, and the silent protest -was put in words by the Diva. So ran the conversation for a time, Dr. -Cervini watching the Diva with deepest interest. - -"Do you realize, Signora," he said at last, "that you have developed a -most extraordinary faculty?" - -"Is it so very remarkable?" - -"It is, indeed! In all my experience, and you know it covers many -years, I have seen nothing quite like it. Hypnotism, mental telepathy -and the old familiar tricks are very different matters. In your case -a sound mind in a sound body merges itself in closest communication -with another mind, equally sound and normal. I am wondering if you -could still read the doctor's thoughts if there was no common language -between you. Or is it his unspoken words that you read?" - -The Diva reflected. "No, it is not his words. I feel sure I should know -his wishes even if there were no such things as words." Then, turning -to her lover: "Tell me, wicked one, do you have to think in words when -we talk together?--No, he says not." - -"An amazing faculty!" murmured Dr. Cervini. "I have never seen nor -heard of such a case. You two, as I understand, can carry on an endless -conversation, and without a word from him." - -"Yes, except, sometimes, names of people or of places. Then, if I don't -know them, he writes them for me." - -"Could you read the thoughts of another person, do you think? Of -others, beside our invalid, here?" - -"Oh, I am sure I don't know! I never tried. It's a terrible thought. -Could anything be more frightful than to know, at times, what people -really thought of you? No, no, Heaven forbid!" - -Dr. Cervini laughed. "Oh, you would have little to fear on that score!" -Then, tapping the hand of the invalid, "But you and I, Doctor, we -professional sinners!--well--that would indeed be humiliating! Our -crosses would be heavy!" - -The invalid smiled, then looked at the Diva. And the Diva laughed, -blushed and shook her head. - -"What does he say?" - -"It's too foolish to repeat. He's a silly boy." - -"I insist upon knowing." - -"He says----. No, no. I couldn't repeat it! His brain is affected. His -blond wits are wandering." - -Dr. Cervini frowned and looked his fiercest. "What manners! Secret -messages in the very presence of a guest!" - -"Well--he says the unspoken thoughts of a grateful world might -intoxicate me, and he doesn't enjoy drunkards." - -Dr. Cervini laughed. "No, you are mistaken, Doctor. She has already -survived that test. No living conqueror has sailed in triumph on such -seas of glory. No other queen or goddess has achieved her victory -without losing something of the simplicity, the freshness and the charm -of youth. The hearts of men are hers. To entrance the world, to----" - -"Stop! Stop!" Again the color came to her cheeks. "If you said it too -often, I might believe it, and then--adieu to all simplicity." - -The two men protested--each in his own manner--against all denials of -their sincerity. - -More serious conversation followed. Dr. Cervini, after final -instructions for the patient, departed, the Diva going with him to the -outer door. As usual at these partings, she pressed him for an honest -opinion of the patient's condition. And, as usual, it was favorable. - -She laid a hand on his arm. "You are telling me the truth, aren't you, -old friend?" - -"Yes. On my honor. In a fortnight he shall eat and drink and talk in -comfort. Believe me. Now, now! No tears! I know what a strain it is. -You have been simply magnificent all through these weary weeks. Don't -weaken now. The worst is over." - -"Yes, I will be brave. But the hardest of all is to see him suffer. He -never complains. He tries so hard, so hard, to be cheerful! It seems, -at moments, as if I could bear it no longer." - -"Go away for a week or two. I can bring an excellent nurse." - -"No, no! Never that!" - -"Then remember the child. It must not come into the world with the face -of a tragic mask; with weeping eyes and wrinkled brow." - -She smiled and promised. But, after bidding him a cheerful good-by, -and when the door had closed, she dropped into a chair and pressed -both hands against her face. It was a determined effort to keep back -the tears. They came, however; but the luxury was brief. With an air -of somewhat fierce resolve she arose, stood just long enough before a -mirror to dry her eyes, then, humming the gayest of airs from a comic -opera, she went out into the loggia and rejoined the sufferer. - -Meanwhile, Dr. Cervini descended the driveway of the villa to the -postroad. There he stopped, leaned upon the parapet and looked down -upon the scene below him; the little town at the foot of the hill, and -the sky-blue Adriatic. - -At the sound of an approaching carriage he turned. The approaching -equipage was obviously patrician. It pertained to a lady of the High -Nobility. Save the two men in livery on the box and the Breath of -Scandal, this Countess was traveling alone. She and the Breath of -Scandal were boon companions. This intimacy bore no resemblance to the -corresponding intimacy among common people where purity is defiled, -homes ruined and good names besmeared. With the Countess the Breath of -Scandal became a sweet perfume--wafting around her person an intriguing -atmosphere of mystery, romance and patrician vice. - -Friendly greetings passed between the lady and the doctor. Then the -lady asked for information. She suspected from something she had heard -that the Diva was in this vicinity. - -"Now, tell me, Doctor. Where is she?" - -"She? In this vicinity?" - -"Come now, I am not to be deceived. You may as well tell me at once. -Where is she? You are one of her intimates and I saw you come down that -avenue. As the only truthful man in Austria, you may as well confess -that she lives at the end of it." - -The truthful man raised his Mephistophelean eyebrows, smiled and slowly -shook his head. "Alas, I wish, indeed, she were there! There is a -villa, Countess, but no Diva in it." - -The lady frowned. "Who then?" - -"Nobody you know, or are likely to know. The occupant is a deservedly -prosperous manufacturer of excellent chocolate." - -"Are you sure?" In her manner was suspicion, not quite allayed. - -"Well--I have spent the last hour there--and many previous hours." - -"Very likely. But I don't believe you." - -"Am I a liar?" - -"I really don't know." - -"But you just said I was the only truthful man in Austria." - -"Merely a form of speech. I meant relatively. You might be the most -truthful man in Austria and yet have no standing in heaven--or any -other honest resort." - -Dr. Cervini smiled. "True, too true! But who told you our Diva was here -about?" - -"A connoisseur. A judge of voices. One who could not be mistaken. He -heard her voice one evening, here, along this road." - -"Was he sure it was the Diva?" - -"Absolutely." - -"Ah, now I understand. Delicious! Really, it's too good to keep to -ourselves. If we could only interview him together, you and I!" - -"What do you mean?" - -"I mean my chocolate king has a young daughter, who sings. And she -sings--yes--she sings well. But, vocally, she bears about the same -resemblance to our Diva as a guinea chicken to a skylark." - -"Could our connoisseur be quite such a fool as that?" - -"A real connoisseur can be anything. But possibly he had dined too well -on that particular night. However, even when sober a musical critic -can----" He stopped abruptly, with a gesture of annoyance. "Oh, what -a memory! My humblest apologies to our connoisseur. He was right, -absolutely right. He made no mistake." - -"Then she is here, after all?" - -"No, she is far from here. But I had entirely forgotten, for the -moment, that she passed this way not so long ago. In the town below -there, she lingered a day or two on her way to France." - -"Is she in France?" - -"Yes, for the summer;--and for rest." - -"What part of France?" - -"Ah, that, Countess, I must not tell." - -"But I am one of her oldest friends! Am I not even to correspond with -her?" - -"Well, you know her one object in going there is for absolute rest, not -even writing letters. I see you are hurt, dear lady, and I understand -your feelings, but I am sworn to secrecy." - -The lady stiffened, and settled back in the carriage. "Hurt! I should -say so. And why not, pray?" - -Dr. Cervini seemed to reflect a moment. "Well, Countess, will you give -me your solemn word of honor to guard the secret if I tell you?" - -"I promise." - -"Do you happen to know the town of Tarbes?" - -"No." - -"Have you ever been to Foix?" - -"Never heard of it." - -"Well, she has rented a little villa somewhere between those places, -but back in the mountains." - -"What mountains?" - -"The Pyrenees." - -"God protect us! Is she there?" - -"She is. Her doctors and her family all insisted upon her having a six -months' rest. And she needs it." - -"Provoking! Most annoying! And here I have had a long drive beneath a -broiling sun--and all for nothing." - -Dr. Cervini waved a solemn finger. "Don't forget your promise." - -"Yes, I will remember. But, the young American doctor who struck--and -then killed a captain. Where is he?" - -"In his own country." - -"In America?" - -"Even so." - -"Shameful! Shameful!" - -"Why shameful, Countess?" - -"Because I hoped they were together--as they should be. It's too -delicious a romance for the lovers to spoil by parting." - -"Lovers! She hardly knew him. If a favorite prima donna were to adopt -every man who fell in love with her she would have no time for music. -Heavens! What a regiment of followers!" - -"Nevertheless," said the lady, in a more serious manner, "I blush for -the Diva." - -"Why blush?" - -"I always blush for virtue." - - * * * * * - -As the carriage, with the Countess, escorted by the Breath of Scandal, -disappeared around a curve in the road, Dr. Cervini removed his hat, -looked heavenward and murmured: - -"Angels of mercy, forgive a liar." - -But the lie did well. Never again came the Breath of Scandal so near -the Diva. The lovers' secret remained a secret. Even her father, the -famous scientist with the drowsy eyes, died twenty years later not -knowing that he had a grandchild. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -II - -HOW THE ACQUAINTANCE BEGAN - - -Seven years have passed. - -Under the arching elms in a Massachusetts village, one Sunday morning -in July, various persons were moving toward a house of worship. The -house of worship was white, with a portico of Ionic columns. - -Among the branches of the elms a noisy congregation of non-sectarian -birds seemed to be laughing at the Orthodox bells. - -Dr. Alton, leading his little son by the hand, was walking beside -the parson. Dr. Alton was but little over thirty years of age. His -son was nearly seven. When the older physician died, two months ago, -this younger Dr. Alton, his only child, had returned from Europe and -announced his intention of continuing his father's practice. Why an -attractive young man, shining with honors from the medical schools of -Paris and Vienna, should be willing to hide his talents in a village -like Longfields was an interesting mystery. Some argued that the death -of his young wife had broken his heart and killed ambition. But this -morning, as he walked to church, beneath the singing elms, he took -cheerful notice of the things about him. He enjoyed the greetings of -old friends of his boyhood. - -Some yards behind, in this progress toward the church, came Mr. and -Mrs. David Snell. Mr. Snell was listening to the discourse of his -wife. He listened with the patience and the fortitude attained by long -experience and by force of will. His beard was gray, his eyes were -blue, his shoulders narrow and his figure slight. Also, he had a gentle -voice and gentle manners. But it was known among his friends that this -gentleness was by no means a manifestation of any inward weakness. -While patient and much enduring, there were times when he became -more determined, more "cantankerously sot" and unchangeable than the -movements of the planets. Deacon Babbit once said, "Compared with David -when he gets his dander up the Rock of Ages is a weather-cock. The only -safe thing to do is to stand from under and let him be." But these -transformations were rare, and often forgotten. - -"I don't care," Mrs. Snell was saying, "people have a right to gossip -when a handsome young man comes home from Europe with a child like that -and refuses to open his mouth about its mother. I don't believe it -_had_ a mother." - -"P'r'aps not. P'r'aps it grew on a pumpkin tree and the doctor jest -picked it." - -"You know what I mean, David. We never heard of his being married -durin' those six years he was over there--over there studyin' medicine. -Studyin' medicine! I guess he studied a good many things besides -medicine." - -"Been a fool if he hadn't. Medicine ain't the only interestin' thing in -this world." - -"Don't be coarse, David, and excusing vice. You know very well he -should not deceive people about it." - -"How has he deceived anybody?" - -"By saying he was married to this boy's mother--and she died." - -"Well, ain't it true?" - -"No." - -"How do you know it ain't?" - -"Because if it was true he wouldn't be so secretive about it. There's -nothing to be ashamed of in marrying an honest woman and having a -child." - -"No," said Mr. Snell. "Nuthin' specially surprisin' about that. Good -folks have done it." - -"Then why be hiding something? All his old friends are naturally -interested in his wife and he'd naturally tell us--unless there was -something he was ashamed of." - -"Ashamed of? Well, Rebecca, you certainly can talk like a fool when you -put your mind on it." - -Mrs. Snell flushed. "Really! Indeed! So you think it's perfectly -natural for a man to hide from his old friends all knowledge of his -marriage--as he would a murder?" - -"Yes, if he wants to." - -"Well, I don't. And that's the difference. And we'll see what other -people in this village are going to think about it." - -Mr. Snell stopped, laid a hand on his wife's arm and wheeled her -about. He spoke in a low voice, but his words were metallic in their -clearness. "Now look here, Rebecca Snell, you jest go slow on startin' -that kind of talk. Dr. Alton's a good man. We are mighty lucky to have -him in the old doctor's shoes. Longfields is a mighty small village for -a man with such an education as he's got. And if it ever got to his -ears that you'd been insultin' his dead wife's memory--well--you'll get -jest exactly what you deserve, and I'll help give it to yer. I mean it. -Now shut up." - -Mrs. Snell glanced at the light blue angry eyes now looking steadily -into her own. Between those eyes and her own face, a long and bony -finger, quivering with anger, was moving slowly, to and fro. It came -very near her face. She blinked, tightened her lips and took a backward -step. Then her husband, in a low voice, husky with rage, the vibrating -finger almost touching her nose, spoke once more. - -"And you _stay_ shut up!" - -After a pause, just long enough for his message to be acknowledged by a -nod of obedience he started on toward the church. - -Mrs. Snell followed after. - -In that congregation were persons who came to worship their -Creator--the ostensible purpose of the gathering. Miss Susan Pendexter, -on the other hand, a somewhat emotional spinster, came to worship -the preacher, Rev. George Bentley Heywood. She was thrilled by the -originality, the power and the beauty of the sermon which to his -own wife seemed, as usual, prosy and commonplace. Many were present -because afraid to stay away. Among these were the young men. Children, -of course, were present under compulsion, accepting the sermon as a -punishment. - -No gathering could be more democratic. These descendants of the -Pilgrims were not encumbered by class distinctions. Judge Dean, for -instance, the most influential citizen of the village, would never -presume to patronize either Abner Phillips, the harness maker or Elisha -Bisbee, the blacksmith. Uncle Hector, who kept the store, would have -snubbed all the reigning monarchs of the earth had he suspected them -of willful condescension. The somewhat restless man in a side pew, he -whose stiff hair stands straight on end, who snuffs and clears his -throat and looks pleasantly around the church, is Lemuel Cobb, the -stage driver. He is a descendant of a famous Governor of Plymouth -Colony and has a brother who is now President of a Western College. And -the two Allen "girls," Nance and Fidelia--now over sixty--have one of -the best pews in Church. The fact of their being largely dependent for -food and clothing, rent and fuel, on the bounty of their neighbors, -lessens in no degree the courtesy they receive. - -It was natural that Dr. Alton and his son, this morning, should be -objects of lively interest. This interest was all the greater from -certain unexplained events in Europe kindly referred to by Mrs. Snell. -But other persons were less suspicious than this lady. Nearly all the -members of the congregation--and of the township for that matter--were -old friends of this Dr. Alton's father. Few among those here present -failed to recall, with gratitude and affection, the dead physician. -The older members he had either sustained in sickness or had postponed -their departure to realms above. The younger ones he had ably assisted -into our merry world. This younger Dr. Alton, now present, bore some -resemblance to his father. He had a good expression and a pleasant -smile, but he was, of course, too young to carry those deeper lines of -study, of work and kindly deeds that marked his father's face. - -So high were the backs of the pews that the smaller children were -almost invisible. Only the tops of their heads were in sight. But -Dr. Alton's son, for a wider knowledge of this new world, folded his -short legs beneath him and sat upon his heels. This was welcomed--in -silence--by many persons in the congregations. They could now satisfy -their curiosity as to his appearance. And the face was disappointing. -His eyes, as they moved in a drowsy way over the faces about him, -seemed dull and almost stupid. They seemed half closed by heavy lids. -And his short, cherubic mouth might indicate a want of decision. -His hair, short, thick and dark grew in a straight line across his -forehead. Altogether, with his stiff hair, plump cheeks, short neck and -placid manner, he seemed a different type from the little Yankee boys -of Longfields. - -Mrs. Waldo Bennett, the tall, straight woman with startled eyebrows, -said to herself, as she watched his slow moving eyes, studying in mild -surprise the church and the people about him, "That little heathen -was never in a house of God before." But she was wrong. This was, to -be sure, his first experience in a New England church, but he had -been in cathedrals. And he was surprised at the difference in size -between this cathedral and those at Milan and Canterbury. Leisurely, -and with no embarrassment or self-consciousness, his eyes wandered -slowly over various persons who were watching him. But when his eyes -encountered Mrs. Snell they opened a trifle wider. There, in surprise, -they rested for a moment. For in this lady's face he found, not the -amiable curiosity of his grandfather's grateful friends, but a pious -disapproval of his very existence. Almost threatening was her look of -hostility, of reprobation and contempt. There was censure in it, and -condemnation. She was studying him as one of the Higher Angels might -study the meanest imp of Satan. For Mrs. Snell, while not impervious -to the consolations of religion, found more solace, just at present, -in believing Dr. Alton a special envoy from Sodom and Gomorrah. As -for the boy, she detected, in his evil eyes and voluptuous mouth, an -agent of the devil for the future debauchery of Longfields. She was not -especially prophetic in other matters but, for this boy, she predicted -an unspeakable career. - -And the boy, while unable to divine all her thoughts or to realize -this blighting forecast, did not fail to catch the general message. -For a moment he returned her gaze, calmly and undisturbed; then as -calmly looked away. He was seeking refuge in the thought that perhaps -she hated all other boys just as much. Perhaps the women in this new -country were fiercer than those in Europe. - -The very next minute, however, something happened--something so much -more thrilling that he forgot completely the square jawed, ominous -woman. As he looked away from her hostile glare he encountered the -eyes of the parson's daughter. And such eyes! How different from Mrs. -Snell's! These eyes were the two most astonishing things he had ever -seen. They were not far away--in a pew at right angles to his own--and -they were looking straight at him! They had thick, dark lashes. They, -also, were severe, but in a different way from Mrs. Snell's. They -certainly were frowning at him. From Mrs. Snell's eyes he felt like -running away--for safety. These other eyes seemed more surprised than -angry--as if demanding an apology for something. Although but six -years old they were remarkably effective for weapons with so little -experience. Not that she was a flirt at that age: she was nothing more -than a rather willful little girl, already somewhat spoiled: one of -those clever females intended by nature to succeed, from the cradle up, -in getting whatever they desire. - -The boy's eyebrows went up and he smiled, involuntarily, in spite of -her frown, and his slumbrous eyelids opened a little wider. He enjoyed -beautiful things, in whatever form, and those eyes, whether hostile -or friendly, were wondrous things. Then, when he had just begun to -stare at them, comfortably, came one of the surprises of his life. It -was more than a surprise: it was a blow, a shock, a humiliation. For, -this girl, with no warning, made a face at him! She wrinkled up her -nose, slightly raised her chin and stuck out her tongue. And, while -he gazed in wonder, she unfolded the legs upon which she was elevated -and sank from his vision like a mermaid beneath the waves. He was -more astonished than angry. That such an affront, so undeserved, so -undignified and so insulting should come from so angelic a face was -something new in his experience. In his desire to see more of this -novelty he forgot his surroundings, and to the surprise of neighboring -worshipers, and before his father could stop him, he clambered to his -feet and stood up on the seat of the pew. - -Accelerated by his father's hand and by a whispered word, he came down -to his proper level. But Mrs. Snell had seen the act. It strengthened -her conviction that this future corrupter of youth had no respect for -the House of God, and was already dead to any religious influence. For -a time the Corrupter of Youth kept his eyes on the place where the eyes -had vanished; but in vain. They seemed to have disappeared forever. So, -being a boy, he found interest in other things. - -The tall windows of the church were open at the top, and those members -of the congregation, not enthralled by the sermon, could see snowy -clouds drifting idly across a bright blue sky. Through these open -windows came the song of birds;--voices of the heathen birds already -mentioned; good singers but with little reverence for the Gospel Word. -To the Corrupter of Youth, also, the Gospel Word had little interest. -He was looking up, through the open windows, at the floating clouds, -the swallows and the white pigeons. One swallow, less discerning than -his friends, flew into the church and fluttered about before escaping. -He was followed, with envious eyes, by the Corrupter of Youth, who -decided there and then--a decision often made before--that when he grew -to be a man, and could do as he pleased, he also would fly:--up from -the earth, high up into the clouds like a bird! - -Perhaps it was the warm day and the preacher's voice, but after a -while he began to feel sleepy. And, anyway, why should a bird be so -much better off than men and other animals? Why stick so tight to the -ground? It didn't seem fair. Why should a hen--just a hen--have wings -and not a boy? If he himself had wings--my gracious!--he would rise -and sail up through the open window, up and far away above the clouds, -into the blue sky itself! Among the gods and angels he would float -around. And just to show what he could do, he would astonish them with -extraordinary evolutions. For speed, originality and distance, his -flights, with curves and sudden stops, would startle even sparrows -themselves. There was pleasure, too, in swooping down, and showing his -contempt for these heavy, easily satisfied persons all huddled together -between the bare walls of this foolish little Longfields cathedral. -Darting downwards, but in easy curves, to the very window through which -he had been looking up and out, he now looked down and in. Hovering at -the open window, his body without, his head within, he frowned upon -the upturned, startled faces of the earth-bound congregation. Then -he entered. Gracefully he floated over their heads. For a moment he -hovered over Mrs. Snell, who uttered a loud scream, then fell dead from -terror. Next, above the girl with the wonderful eyes he moved slowly to -and fro, as fishes move in water. This just to show her what kind of a -floating boy he was. Descending a little, until his face was close to -hers, he looked straight into her startled eyes and wiggled his nose -like a rabbit. And it frightened her almost to death! - -[Illustration: "GRACEFULLY HE FLOATED OVER THEIR HEADS"--_Page 29_] - -'Twas a great thought! - -He smiled as he reveled in it. But there are dreams too beautiful -to be true. And when, at last, his soul rejoined his body he saw -the preacher had folded his hands upon the Bible in front of him, -and was praying. The members of the congregation, with bowed heads, -were listening in solemn silence. Then the dreamer, now wide awake, -slid from his seat, stood up, put his mouth to his parent's ear and -whispered: - -"Father, quick! His eyes are shut. Let's get away!" - -Parents can be dull. On this occasion his father certainly missed a -golden opportunity. He merely shook his head and failed to act. - -However, the weary service was almost over. The prayer ended; the -congregation stood up and joined in the final hymn. The dreamer also -stood up. Also, he opened his cherubic mouth, and sang. The words he -knew not, but he sang without them. His unfamiliar voice surprised -Miss Martha Lincoln, a middle-aged maiden just in front of him. Twice -a week she gave music lessons in Worcester. Now, involuntarily she -looked behind. Her surprise was great when she discovered the performer -to be a small boy whose diminutive mouth could hardly open wide enough -to put forth the music that was in him. Clearly this courageous singer -possessed an ear and a sense of harmony that were a part of himself, -and not acquired. - -At last, the benediction finished, the people came slowly out of -the pews into the aisle, and moved toward the open doors. Greetings -occurred between people who lived miles apart and seldom met, except -on Sundays. The boy stuck close to his father. One of his hands kept -a tight grip on Dr. Alton's coat. As the top of his head was not above -the waists of people about him he received little attention. Many -persons overlooked him. But just before reaching the vestibule he heard -a voice close to his ear, on his own level. It said, distinctly, but in -a tone too low for the taller people to hear: - -"How do you do, little stupid?" - -He turned. There was the girl with the wondrous eyes! But now the eyes -glistened with malicious triumph. For an instant he was too surprised, -too disconcerted, to grasp the situation. Like a ship that receives -a raking broadside from an unexpected quarter and reels beneath the -shock, but recovers and prepares for action, so Cyrus Alton pulled -himself together, blinked and faced the foe. Then it was that the -maiden herself received a shock. For this boy, instead of "sassing -back" as she expected, inclined his head and body in a ceremonious -bow--as elaborate as the skirts and legs of the surrounding grown-ups -permitted, and inquired politely: - -"Why do you say that?" - -So surprised was the girl, so startled by this unprecedented, this -unheard of politeness in a human boy, that her expression swiftly -changed to one of comic dismay. She was dumb. The miracle stupefied -her. In their wonderment the beautiful eyes became yet larger and -more beautiful. But the lips were speechless. Then, once again she -vanished, this time behind her mother's skirt. - -And that is how the acquaintance began between Cyrus Alton and Ruth -Heywood. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -III - -UNCLE HECTOR'S VERDICT - - -It so happened a few days later that this acquaintance was renewed. -Cyrus, sitting on the doorstep of a house in the village, waited for -his father, who was visiting a patient within. - -Two little girls came along, arm in arm. They stopped in front of him. - -One of them said: "A new boy." - -The other said: "Isn't he funny!" - -In one of these persons Cyrus recognized the girl who made faces at -him in church. As they stood smiling, brimming over with mischief, he -arose, lifted his hat and made a sweeping bow, as d'Artagnan might have -saluted Anne of Austria. It was so well done, with so much grace and -solemnity, that the two girls were startled. Things of that sort had -never occurred in Longfields. The girls giggled. They believed he was -"showing off" to amuse them. But he was not showing off. It was merely -his usual manner of saluting ladies. When the hat was again on his -head, he looked calmly at the girl with the eyes and inquired: - -"Why did you call me stupid?" - -For an instant she was taken aback. Then with a smile of defiance: - -"Because you _look_ stupid." - -"But I am not." - -"Well you look so, anyway; doesn't he, Martha?" - -Martha nodded and giggled endorsement. But Ruth Heywood herself stopped -giggling, and said more seriously: - -"It's your eyes that are funny. They are half awake. They are so drowsy -they make me sleepy to look at them. Can't you open them wider?" - -Cyrus made no answer because he could think of nothing to say. But -as the heavy lidded eyes looked into Ruth Heywood's, with their -supernatural tranquility, it seemed to the maiden as if the accumulated -wisdom of mankind was rebuking and despising her. The same expression -came into her face that came there in church; a rapid change from -bantering gayety to doubt and misgiving. But she wheeled about, with -an air of indifference, and walked away, leading the devoted Martha. A -little way off she turned her head and called to him: - -"Good-by, Drowsy!" - -With that they both scampered away as fast as they could run. - -After this interview the acquaintance marched--or rather jumped -ahead--with all the velocity of youth. Cyrus passed her house every -time he went to the village and interviews were frequent. All -discourtesy in their first meetings was forgiven--and forgotten. To his -ceremonious salutations, with their astonishing bows, Ruth Heywood soon -became accustomed. Also, she ceased being impressed by his judicial -gaze, for she soon learned that the heavy lidded eyes concealed neither -disdain nor supernatural wisdom. She discovered, in short, that he was -just a boy. But he proved neither sleepy nor stupid. - -Certain traits, however, quite at variance with those in other children -of her own age, made him an object of her special concern. She began -to regard him as her own personal property, something to be watched -over, guided and protected. Although she had known but six years of -terrestrial life, some feminine, kindly instinct was already prompting -her to be mother and grandmother to him, also aunt and sister and all -the female blessings that he missed at home. He was, to be sure, just -about her own age, but he was shorter and less assertive. And there -certainly is--at times--a distinct advantage in being able to look down -upon the person you are trying to impress. - -When Ruth wanted a thing she wanted it very much, and at once. With -strangers she always got it. Her beauty, combined with her manner--when -she chose--were irresistible, it appeared, to all human males between -the ages of ten and one hundred. She could smile the smile that routed -reason and paralyzed all powers of resistance. This smile, as she grew -older, with the sensitive mouth and conquering eyes, never lost its -charm. And the unsuspecting Cyrus was either brave or timid, patient or -angry, happy or unhappy, at the witch's will. - -Moreover, his mental processes were quite different from those of Ruth. -He was slower in reaching conclusions. Her own swift decisions amazed -him. She dazzled him at times, by a mysterious intuitive agency whose -lightning turns he did not pretend to follow. - -Cyrus, more than other boys, was a lover of beautiful things. Flowers, -pictures, music, color, all gave him pleasure. In the presence of an -American sunset he would sit in solemn adoration. To this lover of -beautiful things Ruth's eyes were as windows of heaven. Into them he -could look and wonder; quit the earth and imagine all things. They -soothed and stirred his fancy like summer skies and solemn woods--or -flowers and thunderstorms. And when they rested on him, in reproach, -they filled him with delectable guilt. - -Ruth and Truth were one and inseparable. Truth was part of herself. -Truth and Cyrus, on the other hand, sometimes parted company. And they -parted easily. Truth was a good thing--he knew that. But there seemed -to be occasions when Truth and Wisdom did not pull together; when the -immediate results were disastrous. When those moments came he preferred -the exercise of his own wits; the triumphs of his own invention. And -his invention was rich and ready. - -On one occasion, when rebuked by his father for telling a lie, he -replied, after a moment's thought, and with earnest conviction: - -"I don't see any fun in telling the truth all the time. Anybody can do -it." - -However, aside from this little matter of despising Truth, he was a -reliable boy. He kept his promises. And it should be said in justice -that, while an easy and successful liar, his mind was open to reason -and he could be made to realize the sin and folly of his ways. His -interview with Uncle Hector, for instance, showed a willingness to see -the light. - -Uncle Hector kept the store. He was seventy-five years old, tall, very -erect, wore a green wig and was a bachelor. The wig was not really -green, but certain tints of its original golden brown had changed, in -the passing years, to a peculiar greenish yellow. His own original -virtues, however, had not deteriorated. He was honest and true. -Everybody liked him, and all the children called him Uncle. He wore -dark clothes, and a stiff, old fashioned collar--a sort of dickey--for -he had a hired man to do the rough work about the place. - -Toward noon, one February day, Cyrus and Ruth entered the store. Uncle -Hector was off at the further end talking with a customer:--Mrs. -Bennett. Nobody else was there. While waiting for Mrs. Bennett to -finish her business Cyrus and Ruth admired, as usual, the wonders -about them, and inhaled the intoxicating air; an air heavy laden with -odors of molasses and vinegar, of coffee, calico and oranges, of the -spices of Araby and the rubber boots of New England. On the top of -the counter, which was on a level with the nose of Cyrus, lay a dollar -bill. Cyrus saw it, and by standing on his toes he could reach over -and take it--which he did. He held it in the fingers of both hands and -drank in its beauties. Then he held it closer to Ruth's face, that she, -too, might admire it. - -"Just think!" he said. "A dollar is a hundred cents; we can buy a -hundred sticks of that candy you like!" - -Ruth had doubts of his ownership. Yet she considered the discoverer's -feelings. - -"But, Cyrus, it isn't yours." - -"Yes it is!" - -"Oh, no!" - -"Yes. Findin's is keepin's." - -Ruth had never heard this principle before, but she accepted it because -it came from Cyrus. And Cyrus, this fortune in his fingers, felt as all -men feel when raised, without warning, from poverty to wealth. - -Mrs. Bennett departed and at last Uncle Hector towered behind the -counter smiling down upon the two upturned, excited faces. - -"Well, Miss Ruth Heywood, and Mr. Cyrus Alton, what can I do for you -this morning?" - -Again Cyrus raised himself upon his toes, pushed the dollar bill as far -over on the counter as he could reach, and exclaimed: - -"A whole dollar's worth of that red candy with the white stripes!" - -Uncle Hector's genial smile gave way, for a moment, to an expression of -surprise. - -"Where did you get this money, Cyrus?" - -"Father gave it to me." - -"Oh, Cyrus!" exclaimed Ruth. - -The liar turned and looked at Ruth, not in anger at being exposed, but -in a sort of calm amazement that so sensible a girl should ruin so good -a plan. Ruth, however, was not the person to compromise with sin. - -"Cyrus Alton! How _can_ you say such a thing?" - -Kindly but sadly Uncle Hector looked down upon the boy. - -"Tell the truth, Cyrus." - -Cyrus, unabashed, met Uncle Hector's reproving gaze. He even smiled, as -any honest man might smile, to show his spirit was above defeat. - -"I found it just now, right here on this counter." - -Uncle Hector's face was still serious. "Are you sure it's your dollar?" - -"Yes, sir. Findin's is keepin's." - -Uncle Hector stroked his chin and twisted his mouth, as if wondering -how to answer. "Well--er--if you should take one of those oranges and -refuse to pay for it, and just walk away with it and say 'findin's is -keepin's'--would that be all right?" - -"No, sir, because I know they are for sale. This dollar wasn't." - -Again Uncle Hector stroked his chain and twisted his mouth. And Cyrus -smiled up at him, the smile of triumph. It was obvious, even to Ruth, -that this opening skirmish was a victory for Cyrus. She also smiled -up at Uncle Hector and nodded, signifying that her escort was an able -person. - -But Uncle Hector was not vanquished. He laid the dollar on the counter, -off near Cyrus' face, to make it clear there was no forcible retention -of doubtful property--that justice should be rendered to the smallest -boy as fairly as to the biggest man. Then he straightened up, pushed -back his coat and inserted his thumbs in the arm holes of his vest. -And there was something in his smile and in his confident manner that -caused uneasiness in Ruth. - -"If I should go to your house, Cyrus, and carry off a handsome sled -with the name Hiawatha on it in blue letters, refuse to give it back, -and say 'findin's is keepin's--would that be all right?" - -"No, sir, because you know it's my sled, and there's no other like it." - -Again was Uncle Hector taken by surprise, and in his face the two -children saw signs of the hesitation which often leads to defeat. -Ruth's faith in Cyrus rose yet higher. As she smiled at the tall figure -behind the counter her expression said as plainly as words, "Nobody can -get ahead of Cyrus." - -But Uncle Hector, while not prepared for such an answer to his -question, even now was unconquered. "Cyrus," he said, "you'll make a -great lawyer some day. You are mighty good at an argument. But suppose -a stranger took that sled, and when you ran after him and told it was -yours, he should say 'findin's is keepin's and refuse to give it up. -Would that be all right?" - -"Oh, no!" - -"Why not?" - -"Because I had told him it was mine." - -"Well, now, Mrs. Bennett bought seventy cents worth of tea and sewing -silk just before you and Ruth came in. She laid a dollar bill on the -counter and I gave her the change--thirty cents. Then we went away for -a minute to the back of the store and left it lying here. When I came -back I found you claimed it, saying 'findin's is keepin's.' So, if you -keep it, I lose seventy cents' worth of tea and sewing silk and thirty -cents in cash." - -Cyrus frowned, and looked sidewise at the bill. Ruth also frowned. As -she looked up at the jar that held the striped candy tears came to her -eyes. Uncle Hector smiled pleasantly upon the two troubled faces and -inquired in his gentlest manner: - -"Now, Cyrus, just as man to man, whose bill do you think it is?" - -Cyrus worked his lips, and looked away. He stood firm on his legs, -but inwardly he staggered beneath the blow. It was a whole dollar, -and gone--gone forever, before he could spend it! He might never have -another. Full grown men have been known to collapse under sudden loss -of fortune. He dared not look at Ruth. It might unnerve him for the -sacrifice. With tightened lips and blinking eyes he reached up over the -counter and silently pushed the bill away, as far toward the new owner -as his short arm could do it. - -"Thank you, Cyrus," said Uncle Hector. "I knew I was dealing with a man -who would do the right thing when he saw it. And now, let's have some -candy together and celebrate the occasion. What'll you have, Ruth?" He -moved his hand, at a guess, toward the glass jar that held the pink -candy with the white stripes. - -She nodded. "Yes, I like that best." - -He placed a stick of it in the lady's hand. - -"And you, Cyrus? The same, I suppose?" - -"No, sir. I'll have a cocoanut cake." - -Uncle Hector replaced the jar; then, as he laid the cocoanut cake in -the extended hand: - -"But you wanted the candy a minute ago; a whole dollar's worth." - -"That's when I was treatin' Ruth. I thought it would please her to -think I liked what she liked." - -"But you don't care for that candy?" - -"No, sir." - -Uncle Hector's face took on a new expression. He straightened up, -lowered his chin, regarded the small boy in front of him was a peculiar -look, bent forward and held an open palm quite close to the wondering -face. - -"Shake hands." - -Cyrus reached up and placed his small hand in the extended palm. - -The large hand closed over the little one. - -"Cyrus, you are a gentleman." - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -IV - -MATRIMONIAL - - -A June morning. - -The sky, this morning, is the bluest blue; the air delicious. There is -fragrance in it, of buds, new grass and flowers. Also, in the air, is -the joy of living, and the promise of even better things to come. - -But Ruth Heywood, sitting upon the front door step of her father's -house, seemed oblivious to the surrounding rapture. Her thoughts were -solemn. Half an hour ago she had witnessed a marriage in her own -parlor. Her father, a clergyman, had united two lovers in the bonds -of matrimony. The ceremony had deeply impressed the youthful witness, -curled up in the big arm chair near the window. And after the departure -of the happy couple she had been still further, and yet more deeply -impressed, by her father's explanation of what the ceremony meant. -Now, sitting in the sunshine on the front steps, her youthful mind was -struggling with the marriage problem. It certainly seemed a grand idea, -this bringing together of a man and woman to love each other dearly -all the rest of their lives, with no drawback, and to make each other -supremely happy, not only in this life but in the life to come. The -more she thought and the deeper she went into this inviting subject the -better she liked it. And she wondered why anybody should delay an hour -before entering the holy state. - -From this maiden dream of everlasting bliss she was gently awakened -by peculiar sounds. These sounds came from the lips of a jubilant -boy, dancing along the center of the street. If explanation were -necessary the sounds might be interpreted as a song of praise to the -Creator for producing such a perfect day in such a wondrous world. -To further emphasize the joy of living the boy's arms were swinging -above his head and his eyes were heavenward. He wore a blue and white -checkered shirt-waist, brown knickers, stockings of the same color and -copper-toed shoes. His hat, being a nuisance, had been left at home. - -With him was a dog. And the dog, even more than his master, seemed -intoxicated with present conditions. The fact of being alive had -stirred him to a wild activity. At dazzling speed he was describing -circles about the size of a circus ring around the singing boy. He -traveled like a thing possessed and with a velocity somewhat faster -than a shooting star. And the eyes of Ruth Heywood, although young and -active, blinked as they tried to follow him. - -She called. - -"Drowsy!" - -Cyrus stopped, turned about and made a sweeping bow. When he -straightened up the maiden beckoned, and said, "Come here." - -As he seated himself beside her, she asked: - -"Were you ever married, Cyrus?" - -For an instant the boy was taken aback. As he turned and looked into -the maiden's eyes, ready to carry on the joke, he saw those eyes were -more than serious: they were almost tragic in their earnestness. - -"Why, of course not! I'm too young." - -"No, nobody is too young. It's a lovely, beautiful thing and everybody -ought to do it." - -Cyrus was clearly surprised; but, always polite to ladies, he nodded -his appreciation of the new truth. "I didn't know. I thought only grown -folks got married." - -"No; it is everybody's duty. And it's my duty and yours, too." - -Cyrus' eyebrows went up. "Me? Mine?" - -"Yes. It's a beautiful thing and makes us all better. Father says so." - -"Did he say children, too?" - -Ruth hesitated. "He--he--said it makes everybody better--more -unselfish--and of course he meant nobody is too young to be made -better." - -Cyrus nodded. "I s'pose that's so." - -"And I want to marry you," said Ruth. - -Cyrus nodded. "I'm ready, if it's a good thing." - -"It's a lovely thing." - -"What's the kind of good that it does?" - -"It makes us better." - -"Yes, but--but in what ways is a feller better?" - -"Oh, in every way." - -"Can he play ball any better?" - -"I guess so." - -"Is a married feller stronger and can he run faster than the feller -that isn't married?" - -"Oh, yes." - -"Well, that's a good deal. Does it take long to have it done?" - -"Just a few minutes." - -As a new suspicion entered the mind of the prospective groom he edged -away a few inches. "Does it hurt?" - -"What hurt?" - -"Getting married. Does a dentist do it--or something like that?" - -Contemptuously the maiden answered. "'Course not! You are a very -ignorant boy. We just stand up before father and say 'I will,' and -'Yes' and 'It is' or 'I do' and short things like that. Father does all -the rest." - -Then Ruth explained the ceremony, and described minutely the scene she -had witnessed an hour ago in her own home. - -"That's easy enough," said Cyrus. "Anybody can say those things." - -"Everybody does it," said Ruth. - -Cyrus smiled; it seemed a smile of relief. "That's funny. I'd always -thought being married was kind of important, and kind of--kind -of--lasted a mighty long time." - -"It does. It lasts forever. That is why it is so beautiful and lovely. -Everybody is better forever and ever." - -Cyrus frowned. "I don't know." - -"Don't know what?" - -"I don't like the--the long time. S'pose we got enough of it. We'd have -to keep on just the same." - -"Oh, Cyrus! Would you get tired of me?" - -"No, 'course not! Nobody could ever do that! But s'pose I died in a few -days, would you have to be married all the rest of your life to a dead -boy?" - -"Yes, and I would be very faithful to your memory. I would never marry -anybody else and I would put lovely flowers on your grave every day." - -"Ho! I don't believe that!" - -"Yes I would!" - -Cyrus put both hands on his knees, stiffened his arms, straightened -up and drew a long breath of the morning air. "Anyway, I'd rather be -alive." - -"Of course you would! So would almost anybody for a time. But you are -very silly and ignorant if you think being married is going to kill -you." - -"'Course I don't!" - -"Then you mustn't say such things." - -"I guess I only just meant that if I was married I'd rather be alive -than dead. But what do we have to do after we are married?" - -"Oh, everything--just what other folks do, of course." - -"And what's that?" - -"Why--sit opposite each other at breakfast, go around together, and own -things together, and have the same pew at church. You at one end and me -at the other, with our children between us." - -Cyrus frowned. "Our children?" - -Ruth nodded. - -"But I never heard of a boy eight years old having real children." - -Ruth closed her eyes in solemn meditation. Cyrus, after waiting in vain -for an answer said, with a laugh: "Think of me with real children, -p'r'aps biggern I am! They could lick me in a fight." And he laughed. -"That is funny, isn't it?" And he gave her arm a shake, as if to wake -her up. - -At the sound of laughter Zac, sitting on the step below, cocked his -ears, wagged his tail and sidled up closer to Cyrus, who reached -forward, gathered up the loose skin at the back of Zac's neck and gave -him a friendly shake. - -"Anyway," said Ruth, "everybody ought to get married. Your father and -mother and my father and mother were all married." - -"Yes, I s'pose they were." - -"Of course they were. They would be ashamed not to. All good and wise -people marry. Why, King Solomon, who was wiser than anybody, had seven -hundred wives." - -"How many?" - -"Seven hundred." - -"Seven hundred! Oh, get out!" - -"But he did!" - -"Seven hundred, all alive at once?" - -"Yes." - -"Jimminy! That seems an awful lot for one man, doesn't it?" - -Ruth confessed that it did. - -"Nobody in Longfields has more than one, have they?" - -Ruth mentioned several citizens, but could recall none who had more -than one wife. - -"If one," said Cyrus, "is enough for men around here, why should your -Solomon need seven hundred?" - -"I don't know. Perhaps the Bible tells." - -"P'r'aps," said Cyrus, "he was homely or mean or something like that, -and instead of one good one he had to take seven hundred bad ones." - -"No, I don't believe it was that." - -Cyrus reflected a moment. "P'r'aps they were all mighty good and there -being so many of 'em was what made Solomon so wise." - -"I shouldn't wonder." - -There came a silence. Then Cyrus straightened up and spoke with -emphasis. "I just don't believe he or anybody else had seven hundred -wives. It's too many. It isn't likely, somehow. No feller would want -that much." - -"Why, Cyrus Alton! Don't you believe what the Bible says?" - -"Yes--I--I--'course I believe it if you and the Bible both say so, but -seven hundred does seem a mighty big lot." Then, as he looked away, -over the common, his eyes rested on two persons who stood talking -together across the way, and he asked: - -"Were Solomon's wives real live women like Mrs. Strong and Mrs. Clapp, -over there?" - -"Of course they were!" - -Cyrus closed his eyes. But through his ears came the thin, far -reaching, nasal voice of Mrs. Clapp. "Did seven hundred women like that -sit around the breakfast table with Solomon every morning?" - -"I s'pose they did." - -For an instant Cyrus faltered. He lowered his eyes and studied his -shoes with the copper toes. There might be a darker side to matrimony, -a noisier, less peaceful side, than Ruth had pictured. But, as he -turned and looked at his companion, it came upon him, like a ray of -sunshine that a hundred Ruths would be, oh, so very different from a -hundred Mrs. Clapps! - -"Did all those wives," he asked, "sit with Solomon in one pew on -Sunday?" - -Ruth made no answer. - -"Doesn't the Bible say anything about that?" - -"I don't remember." - -"Well, if they did, I say he must have had a mighty long pew. Do you -s'pose they all slept in the same bed?" - -"Perhaps." - -Cyrus laughed. "Seven hundred wives in one bed! Cracky! I guess old -Solomon slept on the floor!" - -He turned and smiled into the girl's face. But he saw no mirth, only -surprise and disapproval as the lovely eyes looked into his own. He was -learning his first lesson in the noble art of suppressing humor in the -presence of humorous things when taken seriously. And he blushed at -his own frivolity. Moreover, his sympathy for the much married Solomon -did not weaken his allegiance to the girl beside him. There was, to be -sure, a peculiar excitement in the idea of sitting at breakfast with -seven hundred Ruths entirely his own. Yet, somehow, the vision daunted -him. Even the vision of a hundred Ruths, all just alike, filled him -with a kind of awe--an awe of more things than he could ever live up -to. Seeking courage and consolation, he looked down into the face of -Zac as a companion more like himself--on a lower spiritual plane. Zac, -still sitting in front of them, always looking earnestly into the face -of whoever was speaking, appeared interested in the conversation. Cyrus -stroked his head, then stood up. - -"Let's go ahead with this marrying, if you say so. But where's the fun -of it?" - -"Oh, in doing such a beautiful thing--and being better." - -"There's no great fun in being better. We are good enough already." - -"Oh, Cyrus! Nobody is good enough already except our fathers and -mothers and ministers." - -Ruth's manner was solemn. The responsibility of the enterprise seemed -to rest entirely on her own shoulders. While she was deciding, with far -away look, on the next step, Cyrus said: - -"There's a big circus picture on Mr. Wade's barn, just stuck up this -morning. It has a great big tiger crawling up an elephant, and soldiers -fighting Indians, all big, in splendid colors! Come over and see it." - -Ruth frowned. In her very pretty eyes, as she turned them in sadness on -the prospective groom, was pity--the almost tearful yet contemptuous -pity with which Wisdom looks on Folly. - -"Cyrus, you are just a boy. You don't understand things." - -"Don't understand what things?" - -"How important this marriage is." - -"Oh, that's all right. I'm ready. Let's go ahead now and have it over -with. What do we do first?" - -"We must go in to father and ask him to marry us, just as he did those -people this morning." - -"All right. Come along." - -As the two children entered the house, Zac with a bark of joy bounced -into the hall ahead of them. It was a loud bark, a piercing, youthful -bark, that might disturb a dozen clergymen if working on their sermons. - -Ruth stopped. "Hush, you horrid dog!" - -"Zac, shut up!" said Cyrus. "Go back, and stay on the porch." - -But Zac preferred to accompany the expedition. Without openly refusing -to obey, he merely bounced about, just out of reach, wagged his tail -and smiled in the faces of the bride and groom. - -"Shall we let him come?" said Cyrus. - -Ruth hesitated, but only for an instant. "No. A dog barking at a -wedding would be unreligious." - -So Cyrus, by pleadings, threats and gentle force induced his more -worldly comrade to remain without. But he said good-by to him as he -turned away. For, in parting with this bachelor friend, he may have had -feelings in common with other matrimonial heroes when marching to the -altar. - -Meanwhile, the Rev. George Bentley Heywood, father of the prospective -bride, stood at the west window of his study. His thoughts were far -away. In his hand was a letter from a friend in China. This friend, -a missionary, had presented, in eloquent and convincing words, the -various joys, spiritual, material and social that attended the servant -of God when converting the heathen of the Orient. - -Mr. Heywood's imagination had responded to the winged words and was -already disporting itself in the Chinese vineyard. There had been other -letters, all with the same message. And, now, standing at the window -with the letter in his hand, he was thinking, and thinking hard, over -the most important decision of his life. - -Mr. Heywood was a serious man. Upon his person lay no superfluous -flesh. His face, otherwise severe, was tempered by the eyes of a -poet--eyes of a gentle, somewhat solemn beauty. They were pleasant to -look into. Ruth had inherited these eyes, and in her childish face they -shone with an added beauty. They were dreamy eyes, a soft brown-black -with blacker lashes, and either tragic or mirthful, as occasion called. - -When the study door opened--with no preliminary knock--there was -annoyance in the clergyman's manner as his eyes turned toward the -intruder. This time there were two intruders,--Cyrus and his fiancée. -Mr. Heywood frowned when the two small people advanced to the center of -the room. He was in no mood for answering children's questions. But, as -he frowned, Cyrus bowed--one of his best and most elaborate efforts, -bringing the heel of one foot against the instep of the other, all -with a gracious, sweeping salutation of his free hand--the one that -was not leading Ruth. It was the greeting of one gentleman of the old -school to another, of deference and good wishes. Mr. Heywood, partly, -perhaps, from his thoughts being in China, found himself also bowing -deferentially, as if to some exalted and venerable person. Suddenly -realizing the absurdity of such an obeisance he straightened up and -frowned again. Then he spoke more harshly than if he had not blundered -into such a foolish action. - -"Well, children, what is it?" - -Cyrus spoke. "We have come to get married." - -"Who?" - -"We. We--us." - -"What do you mean?" - -"Ruth and I want to get married." - -Mr. Heywood frowned again and blinked, as if to summon his wandering -wits, undecided whether to believe or doubt his eyes and ears. His -thoughts, barely returned from China, seemed unequal to a sudden grasp -of the situation. - -"What are you saying?" - -"I am saying that Ruth and I want to get married." - -"Whose idea is this?" - -"Mine," said Ruth. - -As the father met the earnest eyes of his daughter he almost smiled. - -"Where did you get such an idea, Ruth?" - -"From seeing the people you married this morning. You said marriage was -a beautiful thing." - -"So it is. So it is. But that was very different. Only grown people -marry, so run away, children. I have no time for play this morning." -And he turned away and sat down at his desk. - -"But, Mr. Heywood," said Cyrus, "this is not play. This is important." - -"Important? Why important, Cyrus?" - -"'Cause Ruth wants it." - -This time Mr. Heywood smiled. "That's a good sentiment, Cyrus. It shows -a kind regard for the lady. But run away, both of you. I am very busy -this morning." - -"But, Mr. Heywood," said Cyrus, "what's Ruth done that she should be -punished and not have what she wants, and wants ever so much?" - -"How punished?" - -"By not getting what she wants." - -"And what do you say she wants?" - -"Me." - -The father laughed. "Oh, it's you she wants, is it?" - -"Yes, sir." - -Mr. Heywood drew a hand slowly across his mouth as he looked -inquiringly at Ruth. - -Ruth smiled and nodded. "Yes, sir." - -Her father also nodded as in polite recognition of her wishes. Turning -to Cyrus, he inquired, "What are you going to live on? What is going to -be your business?" - -"I'm going to be a discoverer, like Columbus." - -"I am afraid there won't be much left to discover by the time you are -a man--not on this earth, at least. The big continents are already -discovered." - -"But there will be new countries at the bottom of the sea, and under -the earth and on the moon, and such places." - -"On _such_ places! Dear me, Cyrus, do you think of taking your wife to -the moon?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"But how will you be supporting Ruth all that time? A husband should be -earning money." - -"Oh, that part'll be all right! I'm going to be a train robber." - -"A train robber!" - -"Yes, sir." - -Mr. Heywood whistled softly and looked at his daughter. "Well--now--is -that a nice business, Ruth, for a model husband? Do you want to marry a -train robber?" - -Ruth smiled and nodded. "Yes, I shall always like Cyrus and whatever he -does." - -"But suppose Cyrus is imprisoned for life, or hanged, as often happens -to train robbers?" - -Cyrus interrupted, and spoke contemptuously. "No, I shan't be that -kind! It's only the stupid ones that's caught!" - -Mr. Heywood closed his eyes for a moment and appeared to be thinking it -over. "Of course, it's possible,--just possible, that you may change -your mind as you get older." - -"No, sir. 'Cause a man gets lots of money that way and gets it quick -and easy. And there'll be jewelry, too. I shall give the jewelry to -Ruth." - -"And I," said Ruth, "shall give lots of it to mother. Mother likes -jewelry." - -"Yes," said Mr. Heywood, "most women do. But isn't stolen jewelry a -little----" - -Again Cyrus interrupted. "But that won't be stolen jewelry. When you -steal anything you get it when the other feller isn't looking--kind of -sneakin'. I shall take it right before their faces." - -"Yes, but you threaten to kill them if they resist. That's robbery, -isn't it?" - -"Yes, sir, but robbery isn't like stealing. It's more--more--it's -braver." - -"Braver? Possibly. And you really consider robbery an honorable -business?" - -"Oh, yes." - -"And I can help him," said Ruth; "we would work together." - -Mr. Heywood looked from the cherubic lips of the groom into the clear -eyes of his superlatively conscientious little daughter and murmured: -"Yes, you would be of great assistance." Then, after a pause: - -"Now, Cyrus, you and Ruth come to me twenty years hence and if we are -all alive and Ruth still wants you I have no doubt we can arrange a -wedding." - -"Twenty years!" exclaimed Ruth. "Why, father, we shall all be dead!" - -"Oh, no! I trust not." - -"Or too old--too awful old!" - -"No, indeed! You will be twenty-seven. Call it fourteen years, then you -will be only twenty-one." - -"But," said Cyrus, "we may forget all about it in fourteen years." - -"Then it will be no disappointment to you if you can't marry. But run -along now, children, I have no more time for you." He spoke with such -decision as he began reading the letter in his hand that the unmarried -couple turned about and slowly vanished. - -When they passed out into the open air, a stranger might have thought, -from the manner in which Zac bounced with joy and lifted up his voice, -that Cyrus was emerging from the Valley of the Shadow of Death. As they -stood again on the porch, the corners of Ruth's mouth were drooping. -There were tears in her irresistible eyes. Cyrus laid his hands on her -shoulders. - -"Now don't you feel bad, Ruthy. If you want to be married, we just -will." - -The maiden shook her head. "He said not." - -"No, he didn't. He only said he was busy." - -"He said only grown people got married." - -"But he didn't say children couldn't if they wanted to." - -In the maiden's face came a brighter look. "Yes, that is true, isn't -it?" - -"'Course it is! And we will be doing something new and different. It -makes folks famous to be the first to do things. Look at Christopher -Columbus, and look at Benjamin Franklin, the first man to fly a kite -and steer lightnin' and make it mind him." - -"Was he married when he was a child?" - -"Nobody knows. But if you and I are the first children to get -married--the very first, why our pictures might be in history books." - -Ruth laughed. "That would be funny, wouldn't it?" - -"Yes, wouldn't it! And under it would be printed Mr. and Mrs. Ruth -Heywood." - -"Oh, no! It would be Mr. and Mrs. Cyrus Alton. It's always that way." - -"Then we'll be the first ones to do it the new way. We needn't do just -like everybody else. But who's going to wait fourteen years. Not us! If -your father is too busy to do it, we'll get somebody else." - -"Who?" - -"I dunno." And he looked away toward the common and became thoughtful. - -Now Cyrus' ideas of matrimony were vague, and impersonal. As a game -it had never interested him. He had given it no attention. On some -other subject he had definite views--such as war, baseball, voyages of -discovery, balloons, maple sugar, battleships and the different kinds -of ice cream. But this marriage business, now that Ruth wanted it, -had suddenly become important. And when Ruth really wanted a thing he -felt that reason, religion and the Laws of Man and Nature should stand -aside. Moreover, Cyrus was no quitter. He was not of those who are -easily discouraged. Persistence, the sort that stiffens in disaster, -was one of his dominant traits. A precious gift on occasions; but there -were times, in the bosom of his own family, when it was not admired. As -guides to character the drowsy eyes and cherubic mouth were, in this -particular, misleading. Behind them lay the tenacity of purpose which -so often transforms defeat into victory. In this present emergency -there seemed to him especial demand for achievement. Ruth wanted -something and when Ruth wanted something it was not for him, nor for -others, to reason why. - -So now, while the bride, crushed to earth, was mourning the downfall -of a high endeavor, her companion had not accepted defeat. With roving -eyes and tight shut mouth he was seeking some other road to victory. - -Inspiration came. - -Seeing no road to victory, up or down the village street, his eyes -turned heavenward. As they rested on the spire of the Unitarian -church, just across the way, there came an answer to his appeal. It -came through the open windows of the church--the notes of an organ. He -turned and seized his fiancée by an arm. - -"Ruth! Listen!" - -"To what?" - -"To that music! It's Horace Phillips practising on the organ!" - -Ruth nodded in acknowledgment of the fact, but she saw no relation -between the music and their late rebuff. - -"We can go right over there and get married," said Cyrus. "It doesn't -matter who does it so long as it is in a church and there's music." - -"Are you sure?" - -"Yes, of course! Ask anybody." - -There was nobody to ask, so he took her by the hand and started -forward. She held back. He pulled harder. "Come along. There's the -church all open; and the organ playing. It's just the place to be -married." - -She yielded. "But there's no minister to do it." - -"That don't make any difference. As long as we are married in a church -with music, anybody can do it." - -He spoke with authority--the kind that carries conviction and puts an -end to controversy. - -As they started, however, she again held back, and exclaimed, in a -final despair, "Oh, I forgot!" - -"Forgot what?" - -"The ring. We have to have a ring." - -"What's the use of a ring?" - -"Nobody is married without a ring. The man puts a ring on the woman's -finger and says things." - -"Well--I can say the things and we'll just play there's a ring." - -"No." - -"Oh, come along!" - -"No." - -Now Cyrus had become interested in this business. He felt a pride in -carrying it through. To fail now would be disgrace. In vexation he -raised his right hand--the one not holding Ruth's--and thrust its thumb -between his teeth. On that hand something glistened. - -"Why, there's a ring!" exclaimed Ruth, "right on your finger! Isn't it -lucky." - -Cyrus regarded the little silver band. - -Ruth repeated: "Isn't it lucky!" - -Cyrus hesitated. "Do I have to give it to you?" - -"Yes." - -"For you to keep and not give back?" - -"Yes, of course!" - -"But Henry Wheelock made it for me out of a ten-cent piece. I've only -had it a little while." - -"Oh, Cyrus! Would you be so mean as that?" - -"I'm not mean! You know I'm not mean! Henry Wheelock made it out of my -own ten-cent piece and I--I--don't want to lose it." - -A look of sorrow in Ruth's eyes suddenly changed to contempt. "Then -keep your old ring! I'm sure I don't want it." And she pulled away the -hand that was in his, wheeled about and started to reënter the house. -But Cyrus caught her by the arm. - -"Oh, that's all right, Ruthy! You shall have it. Come. Don't let's -fight." - -So began this lovers' quarrel. But as often happens, the male of -the species besought and appealed, apologized, promised everything, -acknowledged guilt and sufficiently humbled himself until Sweet Peace -returned. Then all was forgiven, and a second time they started for the -church. Zac brought up the rear. - -On the church steps sat Luther Dean and the New Boy. The New Boy had -lived in Longfields only a few weeks. He differed, in many ways, -from the other boys of the village. He was blasé, and older in his -feelings; he came from a larger town and had seen more of the world. -His tendency, now,--natural, perhaps, but unrepressed--was to despise -more simple people. He gave the impression among still younger boys -of having crowded into his ten years of life a red career of war and -piracy, of wild adventure, of reckless deeds and thrilling escapes. -These experiences were rather suggested than described, always in a -casual off-hand way, calmly and without excitement, in a voice and -manner tempered by the wisdom of the ages. And his eyes, light blue -and frigidly serene, moved slowly from one listener to another in a -weary but patient condescension. His usual haunts, it appeared, were -the upper ether, and the deep sea, the cańon and the prairie, the -impenetrable forest, the decks of battleships and fields of carnage. - -As the bridal couple approached the steps, Cyrus called to Luther -Dean and beckoned to him. Luther came forward. So also did the New -Boy--the Budding Outlaw--although he was not invited; and his presence -embarrassed Cyrus, for this was a private business, in a sense, and -not for the general public. Besides, Cyrus did not like the New Boy. -However, he braced up and put on a careless front. - -"We want you to marry us, Luther, now, here in the church." - -Luther frowned, then smiled. "Me? Marry?" - -"Yes, marry us--Ruth and me." - -"Golly! I--I--never married anybody." - -"That don't matter. Anybody can do it." - -"But I'm too young. It takes a man." - -"No, it doesn't. Ruth can tell you what to say. It's all easy. Come -along." - -They entered the church; but Zac, like many of his kind, was -unpleasantly affected by music, so he remained outside. - -Up the main aisle they started, Luther in front, the bride and groom -behind, holding hands. In the gallery above Horace Phillips was -practising various tunes, and the voice of the great organ filled the -church. To the bride and groom, both lovers of music, the notes of the -organ seemed more impressive than ever in the now empty building. - -But the wedding procession had barely started up the aisle when the -ceremonies were rudely interrupted. The Budding Outlaw, smarting -perhaps at being ignored, followed close behind and yielded to a -vengeful impulse. Ruth's hair, gathered by a ribbon behind her head, -was flowing down her back like a golden mane. The Budding Outlaw -reached forth and seized a handful, then gave it a violent jerk, as if -driving a horse, and he said, - -"Hi there! Giddap; giddap!" - -Ruth cried aloud in pain, "Stop it! Oh, stop it! It hurts!" - -She could not turn her head, but raised her hands in vain efforts at -protection. - -Cyrus wheeled about. "Let go that hair!" - -And he scowled in anger at the aggressor. But the aggressor merely -renewed the twitchings with: "Giddap hossey. Giddap." - -"Let go that hair," once more said Cyrus. - -The Budding Outlaw, for answer, twitched the golden hair again, and -harder than before. As Ruth in helpless agony was still raising her -hands to her head, Cyrus aimed a blow at the Budding Outlaw and hit -him in the face. But the Budding Outlaw was one year older and one -year bigger than Cyrus, and twenty years cooler, more cynical and more -blasé. So, without even loosening his hold on the bride's hair, he -struck out with his free hand and landed full on Cyrus's mouth. The -blow was so well directed that the recipient staggered back and stood -for a second or two as if dazed. On the Budding Outlaw's face was a -smile of easy victory--and contempt. Cyrus saw it. In Ruth's face he -saw torture and helpless anger. Then he threw himself again at the -enemy. And again the enemy without loosening his left-hand clutch on -the golden hair, sent his fist against the approaching face, landing -full on its nose and followed it by a sudden push. Cyrus staggered back -across the aisle and leaned against the nearest pew. He blinked, and -drew a hand across his bleeding mouth. His nose seemed--to him--about -twice its usual size and rapidly growing bigger. Then Ruth, forgetting -her own pain, cried out: - -"Oh, Luther, Luther! Help Cyrus!" - -But, either from wisdom or some other reason, Luther refrained from -interfering. He looked at Ruth, then down at the floor, then up again -at the Budding Outlaw, now terrible in his easy triumph. Ruth called -again to him, yet more urgent--a passionate appeal for help. It was the -cry of one old playmate to another, for the rescue of a bosom friend. -But the organ above was pouring forth its music and Luther turned away, -pretending not to hear the cry. - -Cyrus, during this moment's lull, did some rapid thinking. He saw the -folly of his previous attacks. So, as Ruth was uttering her second -appeal to his lukewarm friend, he advanced again, but more slowly than -before, ducked his head and dodged a blow, then jumped, and closed with -the enemy. And to the Budding Outlaw it seemed as if a dozen boys were -on him. Blows rained upon his face. Copper toed shoes were hammering, -with the rage of demons, against his sensitive shins. He let go the -maiden's hair, as all his hands were none too many for this peaceable -boy now suddenly transformed into a reckless and bloodthirsty athlete. -He could not reach Cyrus's face, as that face, for protection, was -pressed close against the Outlaw's own chest. And when, at last, he got -both hands against Cyrus's face and body to push him off he felt ten -fingers tighten about his throat with a grip that scared him. For now, -as the two iron thumbs were pressing his windpipe with murderous power, -he realized that this boy was fighting with the fury and the strength -of those who fight for victory or for death. He gurgled, gasped, pulled -Cyrus's hair and beat wildly at his head. But when a man is fighting -for the woman of his choice--or for any other holy cause--he has the -strength of many. So with Cyrus. The tearing of his hair, the blows -upon his head and face and body were as summer zephyrs. For him, at -the moment, death could have no terrors. He was in this struggle for -victory or annihilation. - -No boy can live without breathing, and the Budding Outlaw's strength -was going. Cyrus forced him to the floor. Then, knowing nothing of the -Rules of the Ring, he hammered him in the face and jammed his knees -into his stomach, as if to kill. - -At last, after a final blow and jab and kick, he climbed to his feet, -stepped back and looked down at him. Ruth seized him by an arm and -tried to drag him from the church. - -"Come! Come quick, before he gets up!" - -But a change had come over the once peaceful groom. The lust of battle -was in him. He paid no attention to her words. Breathing hard, with -bruises on his face, his lips bleeding, he beckoned to the figure on -the floor as if angry at delay: - -"Come along. Get up." - -But the Dare-devil of the West, the killer of Indians, the Pirates' -Terror, had no intention of rising. Enough was sufficient for this -Despiser of Peace, this Tormentor of Brides. To fight in orderly -fashion with a boy you know you can lick--that's one thing. But to -struggle with wild animals, cyclones and supernatural forces that -ignore the rules of war and really mean to kill you, and will,--unless -you can get away,--that's very different. Moreover, something was -telling him now that a big will in a little body can demolish giants. -He knew he was stronger than Cyrus, but the thing with which he had so -suddenly become acquainted was the spirit within this smaller boy--the -same old spirit that stirred the Greeks at Marathon, and the handful -of Lexington farmers. And now, before him, with the swelling nose and -bleeding lips, glowered the embodiment of that immortal spirit. The -Tormentor of Brides suspected, and his suspicions were correct, that -if he hurled this boy a dozen times against the opposite pews he would -still come at him, and each assault would be more deadly than its -predecessor. - -Cyrus, again ignoring the Rules of the Ring, stepped forward and kicked -him. "Come, get up! Get up. Finish it!" - -Slowly the New Boy shook his head, with a gesture of defeat. He -muttered something too low to hear--words drowned in the notes of the -organ. He refused to rise. - -Then Cyrus turned and held out his hand to Ruth. In drawing the back -of a fist across his mouth during the conflict his cheeks had become -smeared with blood. As Ruth stared in a kind of terror at this gory -visage with riotous hair, swelling nose and still bleeding lips, she -saw in the erstwhile drowsy eyes a look that was unfamiliar; a look -of determination, as if no arguments from God or man or devil would -be considered. Weak and all atremble, her one desire was for hurrying -home. But she obeyed the unspoken mandate and laid her hand in his. -Then Luther, also in obedience to an unspoken command, this time a -peremptory gesture toward the pulpit, again started up the aisle. -And it so happened as the little assemblage resumed its interrupted -progress the great organ in the gallery burst forth with Wagner's -"Wedding March"; and it filled the church. - -The marriage ceremony passed off well;--that is, of course,--making -allowance for the officiating person who had no knowledge of what he -ought to say, or of what he was saying. With constant promptings and -corrections from the bride--who although somewhat hysterical at the -moment, had a remarkable memory for the sound of words--Luther managed -to get along. To misunderstand certain promptings was excusable, for -the music was confusing. Horace Phillips, in the gallery, ignorant -of what was happening below, had started off with the full force of -the organ, and he continued with enthusiasm until the swelling notes -resounded through the empty building. - -Ruth supplied all the language. - -_Luther._ Will you take this wedded girl for your wife? - -_Cyrus._ I will. - -_Luther._ Will you take this wedded boy for your husband? - -_Ruth._ I will. - -_Luther._ Do you promise to endure with all your worldly goods? - -_Cyrus._ I do. - -_Luther._ Will you hold on for better than worse? - -_Ruth._ I will. - -_Luther._ You promise to obey? - -_Cyrus._ I do. - -_Luther._ Until death departs, richer or poorer and cherish. - -_Ruth._ I do. - -_Cyrus._ It is. - -_Luther._ I denounce you as man and wife. - -_Cyrus._ I do. - -_Ruth._ No, Cyrus, you say nothing. - -_Cyrus._ Nothing. - -_Ruth._ No, no! You don't say anything--just keep still. - -_Luther._ With this ring I you wed. - -_Cyrus._ No. _I_ say that! - -He said it, and with heroic self-control bade a silent farewell to his -silver treasure as he slipped it on a finger of the bride. Then, to the -rejoicing music, they marched down the aisle. - -Outside the church the bride, who feared a renewal of the conflict, -looked about with anxious eyes for the Budding Outlaw. But she had no -cause for alarm. The Budding Outlaw was visible, far down the street, -beyond the common, marching with humble mien, reflecting sadly on the -uncertainties of human life. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -V - -HE MEETS TWO LADIES - - -Miss Anita Clement was the maiden lady who had rented, with her two -unmarried sisters, Mr. David Lothrop's house at the west end of the -village. She had a girlish figure, good features and soulful eyes. -Her exact age was somewhere between twenty-five and forty. This -lady's delicate beauty was impaired a trifle by a nervous mouth which -told, in spite of all efforts to the contrary, that its owner was -easily annoyed, and was a stranger to the various blessings of a -tranquil spirit. She had no sense of humor; but this deficiency was -counterbalanced by a profound respect for the conventions of life, and -by a sincere and humble adoration of her own religious creed, with -a corresponding contempt for all others. Her dominant attribute was -timidity. Compared with Miss Clement, the average mouse was a fearless -desperado. As is usually the case with such temperaments, her nerves -were assertive. - -This particular November afternoon they seemed to have started a revolt -throughout her whole interior mechanism; and she decided to consult a -physician. So she walked out to Dr. Alton's house. On this walk--about -two miles--she passed a group of boys playing with a football. Now -boys, to Miss Clement, were the living emblems of noise and danger. Her -one dread concerning a future existence was the possibility of there -being boys in Heaven. And, in this life, the things she dreaded most -were fire, burglars, run-away horses, smallpox and boys. Her sympathy -with boys was akin to her sympathy with thunderstorms and pirates. In -passing boys in the street or on the common she held her breath in -nervous terror, expecting to be struck by a baseball, or bat or stone, -green apple or snow-ball, according to season. Only in color and in -clothing did she recognize any difference between boys and Comanche -Indians. She loved Law and Order; whereas, to a boy, Law and Order were -merely bars to freedom. She had reasons for believing that the highest -ambition of every normal boy under twelve years of age was to become an -influential outlaw. And she was not far wrong. - -This being Saturday afternoon, and no school, the earth seemed swarming -with these offensive creatures. However, by going around the common -instead of across it, she reached Dr. Alton's house alive--and rang -the bell. The door was opened by yet another boy, eight or nine years -of age. Miss Clement, being a newcomer in the town, had not the honor -of this child's acquaintance. Knowing all boys to be barbarians, with -no manners, she was surprised when this one acknowledged her presence -with a smile of welcome and a ceremonious bow. It was the kind of -salutation that Louis XIV would have given to the Queen of Spain. She -might have expected it from an elderly dancing master, but never from -a boy in this New England village. Taken by surprise, she was silent -a moment, fearing this youthful savage, perhaps more uncivilized even -than other boys, was amusing himself at her expense. A good look at his -face, however, allayed suspicion. In his calm eyes and radiant smile -there was nothing but pleasure at seeing her. Beside him stood--or -rather bounced--a youthful dog. He was a fox terrier. Judging from the -activity of his tail and from the general expression of his person, -the arrival of the visitor was affording him joy and excitement. In a -tentative bark he told his welcome. - -But Miss Clement hesitated. Her dread of boys was only equaled by -her aversion to dogs. How a civilized person could live in the -same house with a dog she had never been able to understand. Their -manners and customs were unspeakable. And the exuberant vitality -of this dog annoyed her. His joy was unreasoning and intemperate. -He wagged his tail with such energy as to sway his entire person. -Judging from outward vibrations his very soul was wagging. He gave the -impression--to this visitor--of having a frivolous nature. And she -found solace in the thought that, later on, he would be made to realize -that life was a serious thing. - -"Is Dr. Alton at home?" she inquired. - -"No, ma'am," - -"Do you know when he will return?" - -"Oh, very soon! Won't you walk in?" and he stepped aside, holding the -door wide open. At the same time, he waved with his free hand a courtly -gesture toward the interior of the house. Inwardly disturbed by this -unexpected deportment of a barbarian, Miss Clement walked into the -sitting-room and seated herself on a sofa, near the open fire. It was a -large cheerful room with white woodwork and a pale green paper on the -walls, somewhat faded in places near the sunny windows. Scattered over -the large center table were many books and periodicals. On the floor -in front of her was a pair of scissors and a family Bible. The Bible -was open and three of its illustrations, recently extracted, were lying -beside it. The author of this mutilation climbed into a large arm chair -directly opposite, sitting very erect, as if on his best behavior. He -was watching her with undisguised interest and approval. - -But the dog was inclined to be familiar. He jammed his nose against -her skirt and ankles and sniffed in a most offensive way. The boy saw -that these things annoyed her and he called off the brute, rebuked him -and apologized to the visitor. "I guess you have a dog, and Zac smells -him." - -Miss Clement, with some severity, denied the accusation. "Indeed, I -have no dog." And it was clear from her manner that she had no such -associates. - -Now all boys were alike to Miss Clement. The only striking features in -this one's face were his eyes. Their heavy lids, coming far down over -the iris, gave a half shut, drowsy look to his face, and Miss Clement -felt sorry that his parents should be afflicted with such a stupid -child. His fat, cherubic little mouth, however, seemed to indicate a -cheerful spirit. As the two sat facing each other, the young male and -the adult super-civilized female, the lady from some undefined reason -felt ill at ease. Yet she knew that nothing was more absurd than a -woman of her age being ill at ease in the presence of a nine-year-old -boy. As she looked again into his eyes she began to realize that their -very drowsiness gave an impression of abnormal serenity and repose--as -of concealing hidden depths of wisdom. Also they seemed to be sitting -in judgment on her. The fact of his being a boy aroused antipathy. -Although she knew that many good men had once been boys, as certain -butterflies have once been worms. Moreover, she knew it was not really -his own fault that he had come into the world in that form. They were -necessary evils, like taxes and old age. - -"Are you Dr. Alton's son?" she asked. - -"Yes, ma'am." - -"What is your name?" - -"Cyrus." - -While Miss Clement was wondering why New Englanders persisted in -giving such names to helpless children she was startled by his saying, -regretfully: - -"You don't like that name." - -"Not like it? Why do you think I don't like it?" - -"I know by your face." - -Miss Clement blushed. The tranquil eyes were looking sadly into her own -as if investigating in a friendly way her most secret thoughts. She -became embarrassed. - -"Why, yes--I like it." - -"It is better than some other names." - -"Indeed it is! Very much better!" - -"It is the name of a great conqueror." - -"Yes--of course--and--perhaps you may be a great conqueror yourself -when you grow up." - -"No. I don't care for that business. I shall sit on the high seat of -a big, gold band-wagon of a circus full of splendid music, with eight -white horses. I shall drive the horses and listen to the music." - -"Yes, that will be very nice." - -The room seemed warm after the November chill outside, and Miss Clement -drew off her thick gloves. As her left hand dropped carelessly beside -her, upon the edge of the sofa, she felt a sickening contact with -something warm and very wet. Quickly she withdrew the hand. With an -exclamation of disgust, she held aloft the befouled member. But the -dog, whose generous tongue by one lingering stroke yielded such a vast -amount of moisture, had risen upon his hind legs to accomplish it, and -now stood looking up into her face for recognition of the friendly -act. His reward was a look of loathing. And for a moment she still held -aloft the varnished hand, uncertain what to do. - -The boy laughed. "Why, it's nothing but dog spit!" - -He drew forth from his pocket a handkerchief. - -With two steps forward he offered it to the lady. As he did so he bowed -with the pretentious grace of a Chesterfield advancing to the relief -of Beauty. But Miss Clement recoiled. For on this handkerchief were -blood stains--also mud--and green paint. Too much disgusted to think of -manners, she ignored his offer and used her own handkerchief. But she -shrank from replacing it in a clean pocket. - -Looking down at the floor she frowned. - -"I hope it was not you who cut those pictures from that nice book." - -The Vandal smiled, and nodded, giving the impression of pride in the -work. - -"Are you the only person in the house?" she asked. - -"Yes, ma'am. Joanna's gone to the store." - -Again she frowned down at the litter on the floor. "Does your mother -know what you have been doing here?" - -"Oh, no!" - -"Has she never told you not to cut up books?" - -"No, ma'am." - -Miss Clement frowned again, and stiffened a little. - -"And your father? Does he allow you to do such things?" - -"I don't know. I didn't ask him. Are you fond of pictures?" - -"Yes--I am fond of pictures." - -He got down from his chair, picked up the three engravings, came and -stood beside her, leaning against her knees. He laid the pictures in -her lap and asked which she liked the best. - -One engraving showed Joshua commanding the sun to stand still; one -showed Elijah going to Heaven in his fiery chariot; and the other--she -almost blushed as she looked at it--showed Susanna and the elders. -Susanna wore no clothing and the elders were shocking old men. - -"Which do you like best?" he repeated. - -She pointed to Joshua. - -"Which next?" - -She pointed to Elijah. - -"Now--I don't care for that feller himself," he said, "but I like -the pretty lady. Best of all, though, I think, is the horses and the -chariot going right up into the sky. Just think of it!" he exclaimed; -"just think of going way up into the sky! I think I shall do it myself! -Did he really go up that way with those fat horses?" - -"No, I think not." - -"Then it's a fairy story." - -"No, it's a Bible story." - -"What's the difference?" - -"Bible stories are true stories and fairy tales are made-up stories." - -"But you just said this man didn't go up to Heaven with a span of -horses." - -"Not in just that way--probably." - -"Did he go up at all?" - -Miss Clement hesitated. "Well--I suppose he did, perhaps." - -"I betcher he couldn't go up in any way like that with horses treading -on nothing but air." - -Miss Clement had not come to this house for a theological argument. But -she said nothing and merely heaved a sigh, a sigh of weariness. - -But the boy was still fresh. "What was this man's name?" - -"Elijah." - -"Elijah what?" - -"I don't think he had a last name." - -"Where did he live?" - -"Off in the East." - -"If any one should write him a letter, asking him how he went up that -way, and addressed the envelope just Elijah, off in the Yeast--would he -get it?" - -"Oh, no; he died long, long ago. - -"Well, anyway, I am going up myself, some day, but not with horses. -Horses couldn't do it. When I go I shall go with a kite, a big kite -with a long string. I shall have a box kite. You know what a box kite -is?" - -"I think so." - -"Well, it will be a big box kite longer'n this room, with me sitting -inside and Luther Dean flying it. When it gets ten miles up in the air -I shall reach down with long scissors and cut the string." - -As he stepped back to study the effect of this news, she found his -drowsy eyes were no longer drowsy, but wider open and all aglow with -enthusiasm. "That's my own idea!" - -She smiled and nodded. "Yes, it is very original." - -"And then I shall sail way up as high as I want to. Perhaps to the -moon!" - -"Yes, that will be very nice." - -"What's the use of crawling about on the earth like a bug? I'd rather -be a bird." - -Miss Clement nodded assent and lowered her eyes to the mutilated Bible. -But his enthusiasm was contagious. She almost believed, for a moment, -that he could do it. However, she was uncomfortable in the presence -of this barbarian. She knew, from experience, the awful frankness of -a boy; the statements he can make, and his cruel questions; questions -that upheave religions, that lay bare your secret doubtings and -impugn the wisdom and the motives of the Creator himself. A boy's -thirsty, delving little mind is never satisfied with your easy answer -that "the ways of the Almighty are inscrutable." As this interview -proceeded she realized--and to her chagrin--that there was something -about this vandal that caused her a peculiar kind of restraint and -self-consciousness--almost diffidence. Being distinctly a nervous -person and gently irritated at her own self-consciousness, Miss Clement -looked about the room, over the boy's head, with an expression -somewhat more severe than the situation required. But his instincts of -hospitality were not so easily suppressed. Pointing to a dish of fruit -on a further table, he asked: - -"Won't you have an apple?" - -"No, I thank you." - -He seemed disappointed. Then as his eyes rested on a little music box -that lay on the table beside him, he exclaimed, with enthusiasm: "You -like good music?" - -In her own voice there was less enthusiasm as she answered, "Yes, -I--think I--do." - -Miss Clement suddenly realized--as happens with nervous people--that -she was annoyed by these foolish questions. Instead of replying she -straightened up and looked first at the clock, then at the boy. She -found him gazing at her earnestly, as if trying to read her thoughts. - -"This music box," he said, with signs of embarrassment, "plays five -lovely tunes: The Last Rose of Summer, Hear Me, Norma, The Carnival of -Ven----" - -"Not now," she interrupted. - -Had her host been an older man, with a knowledge of women--if such is -possible--this unexpected change of manner would have been a warning. - -"It's four o'clock," she added hastily, and her smiles had vanished. -"Are you the only person in the house?" - -Taken aback, and obviously mortified by this sudden change of manner, -he took a backward step and replaced the music box on the table. In -his face, with a slight quivering of the lips, came the first signs of -embarrassment he had shown. He bowed: not the gracious, self-possessed, -courtly salutation of a kingly welcome with which he had first -greeted her, but a solemn inclination of the head, as one who humbles -himself--but gracefully--before an angry deity. And he murmured: - -"I am sorry." - -Her eyebrows went up. "Sorry for what?" - -"I don't know--exactly." - -For an instant she failed to understand. Then into her face came a -gentler expression. "Yes, you do! You are sorry because you think you -have troubled me; but it is I who beg your pardon. I am ashamed of -myself. You have given me a lesson in politeness." - -And she smiled her sweetest smile. Whereupon the sunshine returned -to his own face. Encouraged by this change of atmosphere, he resumed -with new courage his rôle of host. For a moment he studied her face, -uncertain as to what was expected of him. Folding his hands above his -head, he glanced about the room, searching for inspiration. It came. -His face brightened. The slumbrous eyes sparkled. Coming a step nearer, -he demanded with suppressed enthusiasm: - -"Do you care for snakes or mice?" - -The visitor regarded him with a kind of terror. - -She frowned, turned her face to one side and shook her head. The host -misunderstood the movement. - -"But it's no trouble. I can get them both. They are right here in the -woodshed." And he started toward the door. - -"Come back," she said, "I don't care to see either of them." - -"But the snake is dead and the mouse won't bite. He knows me." - -Miss Clement shuddered: "No! No! Don't speak of them again! Come back." - -He came back. She knew, and had always known, that boys themselves were -a species of reptile. She felt, at this moment, that whatever this boy -did must be regarded from that point of view--and forgiven. And as she -wondered how a benevolent Creator could permit, in a decently ordered -world, the existence of boys, the Vandal exclaimed in a reflective -tone, but with a smile of amusement: - -"Women are funny!" - -At that moment the grandfather clock in the corner struck four. Miss -Clement frowned in that direction. "When did Dr. Alton say he would be -back?" - -"He didn't say." - -"But you told me he would return soon." - -"Yes, ma'am." - -"But you really don't know when?" - -"No, ma'am." - -"Then you told a fib." - -The Vandal smiled and nodded. "Yes, ma'am." - -"But that is wrong, you know. You should always tell the truth." - -"Yes, ma'am. But I thought it would be good to have you come in, and -sit." - -Miss Clement almost frowned and smiled in one expression. "But you did -wrong. Doesn't your mother punish you for telling such fibs?" - -"No, ma'am." - -"Is she not at home?" - -"Oh, no!" - -"When do you expect her?" - -"Oh, never!" - -"Never?" - -The drowsy eyes, in astonishment, opened a little wider. "Of course -not. She is dead." - -"Oh, that is too bad! I am very sorry. Was it long ago that she died?" - -"Oh, yes! Long, long ago. More than twenty years." - -"More than twenty years! I think you must be mistaken. How old are you?" - -"Nine next July." - -"Then your mother could not have died twenty years ago." - -"Yes. She died long before I was born." - -Miss Clement slowly shook her head. "But not twenty years. That is -impossible." - -"But she did." - -"Then she was your step-mother perhaps?" - -"No. My own mother." - -This conversation was becoming so very absurd that Miss Clement made -no answer. She merely looked away--and studied the room. - -The boy smiled as if amused at her ignorance. "Don't you understand how -it was?" - -The lady's only reply was to close her eyes wearily. But he stepped -nearer and laid a hand on each of her knees, to wake her up. - -"Don't you see," he said, "the difference between eight and twenty is -twelve, isn't it?" - -"It is." - -"Well, then she must have been dead twelve years when I was born." - -Now Miss Clement could never do arithmetic. She abominated figures, -and these words were uttered with so much conviction--reënforced by -the wisdom of his eyes--that her brain became tangled for a moment. -It seemed to shrink, in a sort of nervous bewilderment, from this -fantastic puzzle. He smiled at her obvious confusion, moved backward -a step or two, folded his hands behind him and squirmed with delight. -"It's funny you don't understand. I guess I am smarter than you are." - -Miss Clement shut tight her lips and looked away--anywhere. Her own -brain seemed laughing at her. - -"I s'pose," said the Vandal, "I don't need a mother much." - -"Every boy needs a mother. Is Joanna your sister?" - -He laughed at such an absurd mistake. "No! She's lots older than you -are. She's housekeeper--and lots of things." - -Miss Clement looked about the room, at the pictures on the walls. They -were mostly engravings and photographs. - -"Is there a portrait of your mother here?" - -"No, ma'am." - -"Not anywhere in the house?" - -"No." - -"There must be a photograph." - -"No." - -"Are you sure?" - -"Yes'm." - -"That is very strange." - -"Why?" - -"Because--because--it is most unusual. Did she die here in this house?" - -"Oh, no! Of course not!" - -"Why of course not?" - -"Because she died in Italy." - -"Was she Italian?" - -"I guess so." - -"Have you never seen a portrait of her?" - -"No, ma'am." - -Miss Clement frowned. There seemed to be a mystery here. Possibly a -scandal of some sort. And her interest quickened. "I suppose your -father talks to you about her sometimes." - -"No, ma'am." - -"Never?" - -"No, ma'am." - -"Of course he has told you where you were born?" - -"P'r'aps." - -"Perhaps what?" - -"P'r'aps he did." - -"But you don't remember?" - -"No, ma'am." - -Nobody likes to be thwarted in the pursuit of knowledge. In this case -it seemed to Miss Clement that the deeper she delved the less she found. - -"Don't you remember ever having seen a portrait of her?" - -"Of course not." - -"Why of course not?" - -"Because there isn't any." - -This seemed a good reason. But Miss Clement felt that either she--or -this boy--was being deceived. - -The Vandal, whose drowsy eyes had scarcely moved from the study of her -face since she entered the room, saw the look of disappointment. It was -a somewhat petulant expression in which she would not have indulged had -her host been twenty years older. But he saw it so clearly that he was -moved to sympathy. With all the joy and enthusiasm of a great idea, he -exclaimed: "My father may know all about her. I will ask him to tell -you!" - -A chill of horror swept up Miss Clement's spine. She suddenly realized -what awful mischief a youthful savage--either from ignorance or -perversity--might accomplish. She stood up. "No! Don't mention it to -him--nor to anybody." - -"Why not?' - -"Because you mustn't." - -She could see, in the Vandal's face as he looked up at her, that he -enjoyed this--to him--unaccountable fright. He even laughed. "There's -nothing to be afraid of." - -"No, of course not!" And she tried to smile. "But promise me you will -not ask your father, nor anybody else." - -To this super-sensitive lady there appeared in his uplifted eyes a -cruel, triumphant delight, as he said--"Why did you ask if you don't -want to know about her?" - -"Merely in the way of conversation." And she added, with her sweetest -smile--"merely from a friendly interest. You are a nice boy, and you -understand, I am sure." - -He nodded; but his eyes, in their slumbrous wisdom, seemed almost -contemptuous. - -"Promise me," she insisted. "Promise me you will say nothing about it -to anybody." - -"Yes, I promise." - -"You are a nice little boy--and I must go, now. I will call again in a -day or two. Good by." - -He bowed as he said good-by. Then he followed her out into the hall, -ran before her and held the door wide open. As she passed out he bowed -again; the same deferential obeisance with which he had first greeted -her--as from Louis XIV to the Queen of Spain. - - * * * * * - -As Miss Clement crossed the common on her way home she saw a group of -children looking skywards, and she heard the word "Eagle." She stopped, -and also looked up. And as she looked, and watched the bird, floating -tranquilly in the upper air, in a wide, slow circle, majestically, with -no apparent effort, so high above the earth that he might be a visitor -from another planet--she recalled the words of her recent host: "What's -the use of crawling about on the earth like a bug? I'd rather be a -bird." - - * * * * * - -An hour later Dr. Alton returned afoot. He had left his horse in the -village to be shod. As he walked up the driveway he noticed a figure -standing on the mounting block before the house. It was so enveloped in -the golden glories of a setting sun that Dr. Alton failed, at first, -to recognize his own son. The figure seemed a part of the sunset--more -an ethereal spirit than an earthly boy. Cyrus was standing erect and -motionless, his head thrown back as if inhaling inspiration from the -radiance about him. Such prolonged and voluntary immobility would -be unusual in any boy. Moreover, Cyrus maintained this attitude, -forgetting--or ignoring--the customary greeting to his father. After -waiting a moment before his strangely indifferent son, a feeling of -uneasiness began to mingle with Dr. Alton's surprise. - -At the foot of the block sat Zac, looking up at the silent boy. And -Zac, also, might be a little off in his mind for he, too, failed to -welcome or even to notice the returning parent. - -At last Dr. Alton spoke. "What's the matter, Cyrus? Dreaming you are a -bird?" - -Slowly Cyrus lowered his face, his eyes still shut. And slowly the eyes -were opened as if waking from a sleep. They showed a mild surprise -at his father's presence. But he answered, in a low voice, as if his -spirit still lingered elsewhere: - -"Somebody wants us." - -"Who?" - -"I don't know." - -"But you know who told you." - -"No, sir. Nobody told me." - -"What do you mean, Cyrus? Wake up. Is it an emergency call?" - -Cyrus raised a hand and pointed before him, toward the south. - -"It comes from off there." - -Dr. Alton frowned, less from irritation than from fear that this -foolish utterance of his son might be the forerunner of some future -spiritualistic obsession--or other mental derangement. - -But he spoke gently. "Whose house do you think it is?" - -"Oh, I don't know at all! It comes from way off--way off! It's in the -air; not a loud sound, like somebody near. More like a--like a--breath." - -"What does it say?" - -"It says--it says--oh, I dunno. It isn't words." - -"Then how do you know they want me?" - -"It wants us both. It wants me too." - -Dr. Alton smiled. "Do they want your help as another doctor?" - -But Cyrus did not return the smile. He obviously regarded the message -with a certain solemnity--and awe. Again he closed his eyes and again -turned up his face. - -"It is still coming." - -"What is still coming, Cyrus? The same message?" - -"Yes, sir, the same message--that we are wanted there." - -"Where?" - -"I don't know. But it isn't anywheres near here. It's a good ways off. -And we are wanted very much;--oh, very much!" - -Dr. Alton turned away. "Well, Cyrus, when you get your message in more -definite form I shall be glad to consider it." - -As he entered the house, however, he stood in the doorway a moment, -looking back. Cyrus was still standing on the mounting block, with face -upturned. On the ground sat Zac, still waiting patiently for his hero -to return to earth. - -When Cyrus followed his father into the house he found him warming -himself before the open fire. He approached and stood before him. - -"Father, why isn't there a picture of my mother somewhere round the -house?" - -Dr. Alton raised his eyebrows at the unexpected question. "Why do you -ask, Cyrus?" - -"'Cause somebody was here to-day who wanted to know." - -"Who?" - -With a knowing shake of the head the diplomat answered, "Oh, I mustn't -tell you. I promised not to." - -"Well, you must keep your promise." - -"But why isn't there one?" - -"It's a long story, Cyrus. Some day I will tell you, but not just now." - -"But why not now? This is when I want to know. I may forget about it." - -Dr. Alton was familiar with the gimlet quality of the youthful mind. -"Well--Cyrus--let us wait and see if you forget it. And if you----" -At that moment he happened to look more carefully at a letter in his -hand, delivered during his absence and which he had just taken from -the table. Cyrus waited for him to go on. He waited in vain. Dr. Alton -stepped hastily to the window for more light, and read the letter. It -was evidently of unusual interest, as he forgot to finish his sentence. -And when, at last, Cyrus asked him to continue he did not even hear his -son's voice. - -The letter was written in a woman's hand, and in French. - -At the supper table that evening father and son were sitting alone, as -usual. The son was talkative, but the father was silent; so silent that -Cyrus, at last discouraged by the complete indifference of a usually -sympathetic audience, became silent himself. - -And the father had abundant material for thought. He was trying to -understand how the message in the letter had reached the boy. By what -mysterious agency had this yearning of a woman's heart stirred the -brain of the far away Cyrus? Could there be a harmony between these two -spirits so intimate as to render the written word superfluous? These -were questions he tried in vain to answer. - -When the meal was finished and Joanna began to clear away the things, -Dr. Alton surprised her by asking if Cyrus had a good suit of clothes. - -"A good suit of clothes! Of course he has!" - -"I mean, a nice new suit, that is becoming to him." - -"He has that pretty dark suit with the wide collar that he wears -Sundays." - -"Yes,--yes--I know--but would that be good enough to wear in New York." - -"In New York? Is Cyrus going to New York?" And there was a ring of -dismay in Joanna's voice. - -"I think so." - -"When?" - -"To-morrow." - -"What for?" - -Dr. Alton hesitated. "I have some--sort of business there and--will -take him with me." - -"Will he stay long?" - -"Only a day or two." - -"Heaven be praised! I began to be frightened." - -The doctor laughed. "You needn't worry, Joanna. We shall come back -alive--and very soon." - -The next day Cyrus and his father were in the wicked city. The -important business of the following morning was taking the boy to a -fashionable establishment and fitting him out in stylish raiment. -And when the deed was done Dr. Alton realized that Cyrus, in these -new, well fitting clothes, with his intelligent face and erect little -figure, was not a boy to be ashamed of. - -"To-night," said Dr. Alton, "we go to the opera." - -"Opera." And Cyrus repeated the new word. "Opera. What is that, father?" - -"It's a theater, where they sing." - -"Isn't the circus better?" - -"Well, yes; sometimes it is better. But you come to the opera with me -to-night and to-morrow I will take you to the Hippodrome. That's fair, -isn't it?" - -Cyrus agreed that it was. - -To a boy of eight, who has never been to any theater, Grand Opera is a -strong beginning. When he and his father took their seats--seats not -too far from the stage--Cyrus, in wonder, looked about him and above -him, at the vast auditorium, the gorgeous architecture, the radiant -women and their flashing jewels. And so many of them! This was a new -world of which he had never heard. Wide open were his eyes; also his -mouth--and all his senses. He absorbed everything. The overture filled -him to the brim with a celestial joy. Such music he had not imagined. -Then, to his surprise, all the lights were lowered and the vast chamber -was in gloom. And when, the next moment, the great curtain began -slowly to ascend, disclosing the scene behind, then, indeed, came the -culmination of his joy and amazement. - -What followed was bewildering--the music and the changing lights; the -peasants, the soldiers and the kings and queens. And everybody singing! -Then the ballet, with the fairies! The boy was enchanted. - -But, among the many figures, there was one that stood out the clearest. -It was a woman. Her face, her voice, her singing and her story moved -him beyond any of the others. The words that were sung were strange -words and they told him nothing, but he guessed the story. This -lovely woman with a lovely voice had a diadem in her hair and was in -trouble--troubled by a hateful man in splendid clothes, with lavender -legs. But, however deep her trouble, she sang so well and in such -a heavenly voice that the whole audience applauded her, again and -again. It was clear, even to a child, that she was the queen of the -evening, the star of stars. And once, between two acts, when she came -out upon the stage, between the good lover and the wicked nobleman, -bowing to the audience in acknowledgment of flowers, Cyrus saw, and -saw so clearly there was no mistake, that she looked directly at him, -Cyrus, and at his father! And as she saw them, she bowed and smiled -more radiantly than ever! And so clear it was that he looked up and -whispered: - -"Why, father, she was bowing to us!" - -He saw his father was smiling back at her as he murmured, "Yes--she is." - -That, in itself, was exhilarating. - -But no human boy can withstand for an infinity of time an infinity of -new emotions--however delectable. At the end of the second hour Cyrus' -head was resting against his father's arm, and his eyes were closed. -But in his sleep he heard the music. In his dreams came the voice of -the Lovely Lady. His eyes, only, were closed. In his ears, and to his -weary but enchanted brain came all except the actual vision. When his -father woke him from this gentle sleep the great curtain was slowly -descending at the end of the final act. Music filled the air,--volumes -and volumes of it. Countless people were on the stage; kings and -queens, lords and ladies, peasants and soldiers, all singing their -loudest. So many noisy people Cyrus had never heard. And in the center -among the kings and queens was the Lovely Lady, also singing. - -A few moments later, after the great curtain had descended, a half -dozen of the principal singers came filing out in front of it, holding -hands, and bowing and smiling to the audience. The Lovely Lady received -heaps of flowers. And her eyes, as she bowed and smiled, rested for a -moment on Cyrus himself. - -The next day, as to weather, was disappointing. The cold, damp air, -the leaden sky and the flurries of snow were a surprise to Cyrus, -as it was just plain, country weather, and bad at that. It seemed -out of place in a fine, big city. And he was again surprised, in the -afternoon, when his father took him into Central Park. He considered -it a waste of time, when so much of the city had not been seen. They -walked along the borders of a lake, through some woods, then followed -a path up a little hill. And, two or three times, when they came to -other paths, his father took from his pocket the French letter he had -received at home, and seemed to study it as if it told him where to go. -On one of these halts the boy protested. - -"Why do we come here, father? We can see trees at home." - -"Yes, you are right, Cyrus. But we go only a little further." And when -they came to a rustic bench in a secluded spot, quite hidden among -trees and shrubs, Dr. Alton seated himself. - -"Are you tired?" Cyrus asked. Dr. Alton looked at his watch. "No, I am -not tired." - -"Then let's go back to the city, and be seeing things." - -His father laid a hand on his shoulder and patted it. - -"There is no hurry. We can wait a minute. It is rather pleasant here, -don't you think?" Then he looked along the path in both directions as -if expecting something. Cyrus was too polite to say what he really -thought, so he merely scowled and swung his legs, hitting the toe -of one foot against the heel of the other. Meanwhile his father -kept looking along the path by which they had come as if expecting -something. - -And something came. - -It was a lady, and she was hurrying toward them. Instead of going by -she stopped and greeted Dr. Alton. And the greeting was more than -friendly. There were kisses, and they stood for a moment in each -other's arms. Tears were on her cheeks when she stooped down and put -both hands on Cyrus' shoulders and looked earnestly into his face. -In her own face there was a look of excitement, and of joy. More -tears came to her eyes. And her eyes were full of expression, with a -peculiar droop, that gave an air of calmness and repose. She kissed -the boy,--kissed him several times--then held him at arm's length, -said something in a foreign language--then kissed him again. Although -she was evidently an important person, and beautiful and kind and -very gentle and affectionate--and he liked her furs as he stroked -them--nevertheless Cyrus accepted her attentions with surprise, and -with a mild resentment. No woman had ever treated him in this manner, -and these caresses embarrassed him. Moreover, her face and voice -awakened memories--memories as of fairy tales with music--of things -unreal, yet positive, and fresh in his mind. His frown was from an -effort to remember what her face and voice recalled. At last, of a -sudden, the clouds vanished. Into his puzzled brain poured a flood -of light. The frown gave way to a smile of triumph as he exclaimed, -holding her at arm's length with both hands against her chest: - -"Oh, I know now! You are the lady of last night!" - -She looked up at Dr. Alton for a translation but guessed the meaning. -And when it came she nodded, laughed and confessed--but in a language -Cyrus did not understand, although familiar to his ears. Seating -herself on the rustic bench, she held Cyrus in her lap, and with Dr. -Alton as interpreter they conversed together. She asked many questions: -if he was happy, in good health, what he thought and how he spent his -time, and lots of other things. And Cyrus was delighted to learn more -about her strange adventures of last night. And to know that the wicked -man with lavender legs could do her no harm. - -She was certainly a wonderful lady, as charming now as in the story -of last night. And Cyrus asked many questions about that story, all -of which she answered. Of course, it was slow and troublesome not -understanding her language--nor she his, except a few words--but Dr. -Alton was a willing translator. It all ended, however, in an unexpected -way. After one of her embraces, more affectionate even than the others, -Cyrus startled his two companions by asking in the joyful voice that -comes with a grand discovery:-- - -"Are you my mother?" - -With a frightened look she drew back. The last word she understood. -Instead of answering she glanced up at his father, as if for -assistance. Into Dr. Alton's face, also, had come a look of alarm; -then a frown. But he answered pleasantly: - -"No--Cyrus. No. Why should you ask such a question?" - -"Because she acts just as Elmer Snow's mother acted when he came back -from the hospital." - -When this was translated she leaned back, bowed her head, and covered -her face with her hands. When she raised her head there were fresh -tears on her cheeks. - -Cyrus apologized. "I am very sorry. I didn't mean anything--in -particular. I only--just thought I'd ask." - -She patted his shoulder to assure him no harm was done. - -"This lady, Cyrus, is an old friend of mine," said his father. "And is -very glad to see you and is sorry you have no mother. That's all." - -Now Cyrus would sooner doubt a voice from heaven than his father's -word; and any one could easily see that the lady was much disturbed--so -much disturbed that it shortened the interview. The parting with his -father seemed painful and took a long time. Both had much to say. They -seemed to cling to each other, and he kissed her several times. At -last, after a tearful farewell to Cyrus, with a long embrace in which -her wet cheeks were pressed long against his face, she hurried away. - -There was sorrow in his drowsy eyes as he watched the departing figure. -No woman had ever treated him in such a way, and he had begun to like -it. Before she disappeared around a curve in the path, even before -the sound of her pleasant voice had died away in his ears--something -happened! - -A fat, gray squirrel, followed by another fat, gray squirrel jumped -upon the bench just where the lady had been sitting! And there they sat -almost within reach! - -He was young. Within a month the unexplained lady, her face, her voice -and her caresses had begun to fade from his unfledged memory. But the -two gray squirrels, almost within reach, sitting up with their funny -little hands crossed upon their portly stomachs, he remembered clearly. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -VI - -HE ALMOST GETS RELIGION - - -Cyrus was in bed. - -The history of the case is instructive and should be a warning to other -champions. - -On a certain afternoon in the fourteenth year of this hero's life the -home team had met and defeated the baseball club from a neighboring -village. The score was twenty to thirteen. Such a victory deserved -celebration. So Cyrus, with half a dozen fellow champions, went to -Mrs. Turner's little ice cream parlor and regaled themselves. Each boy -had three ice creams, and as the money still held out they decided on -a fourth. But Mrs. Turner, having a friendly interest in her patrons, -declined to be further identified with this particular debauch. - -To victors in the national game this was humiliating. Defeat in an ice -cream parlor after triumph on the diamond, was not to be accepted. -So they adjourned to the store where a fresh lot of cocoanut cakes -had just come in. These cakes were not dry and fly blown like their -predecessors. They were fresh, full and well rounded, soft and juicy -and nicely browned on top. Wilbur Cobb said he could eat a dozen. But -Cyrus, familiar with the deceptive richness of cocoanut cakes, said no -boy could eat a dozen, but that he, Cyrus, could eat more than Wilbur. -This aroused the sporting instinct of the party and it was arranged, on -the spot, that these two champions should compete. The boy who ate the -most should pay nothing toward the cost of the cakes. The cakes were -two cents a piece. - -Cyrus won. He ate nine and claimed, with justice, that were it not for -the space already occupied by the ice cream and sponge cake he could -have eaten still more. - -Half an hour later these same boys, in passing through Deacon Bisbee's -orchard, found the taste of green apples cool and refreshing, for the -moment, after the somewhat milky fullness caused by the ice cream -and cocoanut cakes. And they partook with reckless freedom. What -exclamations of surprise or warning may have passed between those -hereditary foes, the ice cream and green apples, when the apples -entered those overworked stomachs is not recorded. But the apples -conquered as easily as the Barbarians when they entered Rome. For -green apples, on occasion, resemble Truth: they are mighty and will -prevail. And Cyrus, after starting homeward, began to feel, in that -region between his chest and legs, as if he had swallowed a football. -The distention was painful. Moreover, as he hurried on, the football -seemed growing bigger and harder. Also, it showed signs of life. From -his interior came rumblings; the rumblings that precede a storm. All -through this central zone, this sphere of distention, pains were -starting up, sharp, swift, far reaching. It appeared to him that -through his equator lightning played. At first these playful spasms -darted here and there in a frolicsome way--like airy nothings. Though -somewhat threatening and reverberant they did not alarm him. They -seemed well intentioned pains, like harmless gleams of lightning on a -summer night. But these spasms became less friendly. They grew sharper -and more threatening. Soon, like flashes in a real storm, they were -shooting here and there as if rending him asunder; no longer playful, -but the kind of lightning that rips the bark from trees, tears bricks -from chimneys, and spires from churches. When near his own home this -storm within grew fiercer yet, and wilder in its fury. So sharp the -agony that he clasped the afflicted territory with both his hands, and -leaned for support against a fence. - -Never before, in his brief career had he realized that the human body -could be rent and plowed and torn to shreds without killing the owner. - -At that moment Mrs. Eagan came along. Mrs. Eagan had a large face, -a large chest, large hips and a large heart. And she was carrying a -large basket--of things for the wash. Cyrus withdrew his hands from -that region where the tempest raged, straightened up, lifted his hat -and bowed. And it was done as respectfully as if Mrs. Eagan were -the leading lady of the land. Mrs. Eagan, with a smile of pleasure, -returned the salutation, not gracefully perhaps, for she was hampered -by the heavy basket. She knew Cyrus, and she knew that in his courtesy -to her sex he made no distinctions. She knew that if the Queen of Sheba -were passing at the same moment, the Queen of Sheba would have received -an obeisance not a bit more deferential than the obeisance to Mrs. -Eagan. But as she looked more carefully at the boy's face, her friendly -eyes saw clearly there was trouble. - -"Why, Cyrus! Are ye sick? Ye are as white as a sheet." - -"Yes'm." He spoke in a fade-a-way voice, and he smiled from sheer force -of will. "I feel very--very--I don't know." And one of his hands moved -instinctively to the sphere of revolt. His head drooped, partly from -pain; partly from shame that these awful spasms had weakened his legs -and might effect his courage. - -"'Tis there ye are sufferin'? 'Tis the belly ache?" - -Cyrus nodded. "Yes--Mrs. Eagan--and I never--had--such a----" The lips -quivered, his head sank lower and he leaned against the fence for -support. Mrs. Eagan laid down her basket. Then closer to the smaller -white face came the larger red one. - -"D'ye feel so bad as that, little man?" - -Cyrus nodded, with lips tight pressed to conceal a quivering he could -not control. He looked into the light blue eyes, now near his own, and -tried to smile. - -Mrs. Eagan said no more. Cyrus felt an arm behind his legs, another -across his back, and he was lifted from the earth. She lifted him in -her arms--as Hercules might have lifted a spring lamb. With his head -against her shoulder she carried him easily up the long driveway to his -own home. - -There were sleepless hours that night, and Cyrus did some unusual -thinking on important subjects. For, as it happened, he had recently -read portions of the Old Testament, quite by accident, and was much -impressed, temporarily, by certain statements of the Hebrew fathers. He -inferred from that book that the Ruler of the Universe was watchful and -vindictive, and dependent upon constant praise; that for any dodging of -this praise and worship hell fire and eternal damnation were ordinary -penalties; that the sins of the fathers were visited upon the children, -forever and ever--which seemed unfair. The impression of all this upon -his youthful mind was that any person who really believed these things -must be either impossibly good or scared to death. While in good health -those awful utterances did not worry him. Now, however, in the silent -hours of the night, weakened by the devastation in his interior, he -became less callous to such warnings. Those Hebrew fathers, backed by -the vindictive Almighty, might get him before daylight and consign him, -forever, to the fires of hell. - -But at last he slept. And when he awoke the sun was shining in his -chamber--and he was still alive! However, when Joanna came up with his -toast and tea, and sat at his bedside, he was still haunted by the -awful prophecies of the Hebrew fathers and by the suspicion that the -Avenging Deity might still have an eye on him. - -Joanna was a well-built woman of forty, with good features and an -honest face. For nearly twenty years she had lived in the Alton family -as housekeeper, nurse, companion, cook, friend and servant: and, -incidentally, as mother to Cyrus. While Joanna's education had been -scanty, her common sense was abundant. Her attendance at church was -regular, and Cyrus felt, naturally, that her views on Paradise and -Purgatory could be relied on. So he asked if religious people were more -likely to get to heaven than other folks. - -"Of course," said Joanna. - -"Which kind are the surest?" - -"The Good People." - -"I mean, which kind of religion is the--is the safest?" - -"Each one thinks his own is." - -"Which do you think, Joanna?" - -"Congregationalist." - -"Is that yours?" - -"Yes." - -"Do they have a better chance than Baptists or Methodists or -Unitarians?" - -"I guess they do." - -"But the Unitarians have the biggest church." - -"Yes--in this village." - -"What do they believe,--the Unitarians?" - -Joanna closed her eyes. "Oh, I can't tell you exactly. They believe -something about God being the only thing to worship--the most important -of all." - -"Well,--isn't He?" - -"Why--er--yes." - -"What's bigger?" - -Joanna frowned. "Bigger than what?" - -"Bigger than God?" - -"Why, nothing, I suppose." - -"Then it seems to me He is the One to be friends with." And Cyrus -leaned back on the pillow, and turned his face toward the light. Joanna -stroked his head. - -"But don't you worry, little boy. You are not goin' to die just because -you are sick." - -"Are you sure?" - -"Of course I am sure, so is your father sure. To-morrow you will be all -well again." - -"Yes, but I shall die some day and I might as well be ready. You think -the Congregashalists have the best chance of getting to heaven." - -"Yes." - -"Then I'll be one. What do I have to do?" - -"Nothing, but just go to church." - -"Is God a Congregashalist?" - -Joanna hesitated. "Well--nobody really knows." - -"Not even a minister?" - -"Perhaps he would. But you have asked enough questions. Now try and go -to sleep." - -Cyrus obeyed, and slept. But that evening when his father came up and -was sitting by the bed he made further efforts to get light on the -darkest of all subjects. Dr. Alton, however, saw signs of a feverish -excitement in the usually calm eyes of the invalid, and he decided -upon a soothing course of religious instruction. He knew that this -sudden thirst for knowledge in a fresh field could not be allayed by -any off-hand advice to forget and slumber. So with a smiling face -he answered questions as if the matter in hand was of no immediate -importance. - -"Father, was Jesus so very good?" Cyrus began. - -"Yes, indeed! The best of men!" - -"He wasn't better than you, I bet." - -"Indeed he was, Cyrus; very, very much better." - -"Ho!" said the boy; "I don't believe it." - -Dr. Alton explained, in few words, certain important differences -between Our Savior and other men. Cyrus listened, and understood; then -inquired: - -"Was He a Congregashalist?" - -Dr. Alton smiled, and shook his head. "Never, Cyrus! Never! He couldn't -have been if he tried. And He was not the man to try. There was no -cruelty in him. He was all forgiveness." - -"Then he must have been a Unitarian, a Piscopalian, or Baptist or -Methodist--or something like that." - -Dr. Alton closed his eyes and stroked his chin. - -"No--I should say not. He might possibly have been a Universalist, or a -Unitarian. But why are you so interested in religion all of a sudden? -Afraid you are going to die?" - -"No, not now. But all lost night I was afraid." - -His father took one of the small hands in both his own and smiled into -the invalid's adoring face. "There's no hurry about choosing your -creed, little man. Benevolent Creators are not punishing children for -theological errors. But we can talk it all over later, when you are -well." - -Cyrus also smiled--"But tell me, father, just for fun, what religion is -the best?" - -"Well, Cyrus, that's hard to say. There are many to choose from." - -"Why, I thought the Christian religion was the only real one." - -"Well, that's what the Christians think--naturally." - -Cyrus frowned. "But what's the use of so many?" - -"No use whatever. One good one would be enough for everybody--and save -heaps of trouble." - -"But the Christian religion is the best, isn't it--to go to heaven -with?" - -"That's hard to say. Nobody really knows. It's a good Sunday religion, -but it doesn't seem to work so well week days." - -"I guess it's safer than any of the others, isn't it?" - -"Possibly. But you needn't decide in a hurry, Cyrus. Take your time and -look around a little." - -"Do people always look around before choosing their religion?" - -Dr. Alton laughed. "No, they do not. In fact, it is considered a sign -of moral depravity to think too much for yourself in those matters. To -be at peace with mankind you must follow your neighbors. It is all -merely a matter of geography. When you know the name of the country you -know their religious beliefs. There is not much thinking done." - -"That's funny," said Cyrus. "But a Christian is lots better than any of -the others--isn't he?" - -Again Dr. Alton smiled. "Well, he himself thinks he is. But all virtue -is not centered in the Christian. When you get up to-morrow and wish to -get well and strong you will begin to eat again, won't you?" - -"Gracious! I guess I will! I could eat a house." - -"Yes, you will be hungry enough. And you will feel like eating quite a -variety of things, I suppose." - -"Oh, won't I!" And as Cyrus spoke the pallor of the Saint was submerged -in a glow of fleshly desire. - -"Good! And you shall have it! Now we will play, for a minute, that -Christianity is pie." - -"Is what?" - -"Is pie. Just pie. But there are various creeds of pie among the -Christians; there's apple, pumpkin, mince, squash, cocoanut, and all -the others." - -"Me for cocoanut!" exclaimed the invalid. "Cocoanut pie beats 'em all!" - -"That's a matter of taste. But you prefer cocoanut pie to all the -others?" - -"Oh, yes!" - -"Very well. Now there's apple for Methodist, mince for Episcopalian, -cocoanut for Unitarian, pumpkin for Congregationalist, and so on, -through the list." - -Cyrus laughed. "And which are you?" - -"I haven't decided yet. But you must stick to your colors and have more -faith in cocoanut than in all the others." - -"Oh, yes! That's easy!" - -"And so you eat nothing but cocoanut pie." - -"Nothing else at all?" - -"Nothing else. So long as you are a Christian you must stick to your -creed. You must feel considerably wiser and better than outsiders who -are eating grapes, and roast turkey and custards and watermelons, and -pudding and ice cream, and all who eat anything except your one kind of -pie." - -"Oh, I couldn't do that!" - -"But you must, if you want to be a true defender of your cocoanut -creed. For all the others are outsiders. Those pudding, turkey, grapes, -custard and ice cream people don't believe in your pie." - -Cyrus slowly shook his head and pushed out his lips. "I couldn't -despise people for eating things they liked." - -"Neither could I, Cyrus. So, for the present, anyway, we will eat -whatever we want to. And we are just as sure of going to Heaven as if -we stuck to one kind of pie." - -"Yes, we will," declared the invalid, and in his face and voice had -come the enthusiasm of fresh hopes and a new life. "If our minister," -he said, "would talk like that in the pulpit, about roast turkey and -ice cream and things to eat, it would be more--more interesting. -Wouldn't it?" - -Dr. Alton bent over Cyrus and kissed him good night. "Yes, but he -wouldn't dare--unless his congregation consisted of empty boys." - -The father's diagnosis was correct: his treatment a success. During -that short half hour the patient had been converted from a terrified -sinner to a hopeful gourmand. The anxious look had left his eyes. The -lips were smiling. - -And that night, instead of fitful wakings interspersed with dreams of -hell and Hebrew prophets, of death, damnation and eternal punishment, -he slept a solid, tranquil sleep. And such dreams as came were happy -dreams. He dreamed of puddings of the richest kind, of turkeys all -stuffed and ready; of various pies, of custard, of pastry, and of ice -cream, all of which he ate, and ate--and ate. And lying flat upon his -stomach on a sponge-cake raft he floated in a sea of pineapple sherbet. -He would bite off edges of the raft, then, with his whole face in the -boundless ocean, he would suck up long gulps of this divine material. -And his permanent residence was in a cocoanut palace against a mountain -of vanilla ice cream. - -When morning came, and he awoke and sat up in bed, he was himself -again. In the sunshine of his room the bottomless pit had lost its -menace. His spirit, refreshed by slumber and now guided by his nose, -ignored the fires of Purgatory and was hovering over the more friendly -heat of Joanna's kitchen stove. - -A few days later, when he was curled up at one end of the sofa with a -book, he asked: "What is the transmigration of souls?" - -[Illustration: "A COCOANUT PALACE AGAINST A MOUNTAIN OF VANILLA ICE -CREAM"--_Page 114_] - -Dr. Alton explained. - -Then Cyrus, after a good look into the face of the dog beside him: -"Whose soul do you suppose is in Zac?" - -"That's a hard one, Cyrus. I could only guess at it." - -"But it means for dogs, too, doesn't it?" - -"It certainly ought. I shouldn't accept it unless it did." - -"Then I say that whatever soul came into Zac was the soul of a mighty -good man." - -"Yes--no doubt about that." - -"Just think! Zac may be George Washington!" - -"Well--you can't be too sure. You have all the good people in history -to choose from, you know." - -"Yes, of course. I guess, after all, he isn't George Washington. He is -quicker and jumps about more." Then after another look into the dog's -adoring face: "Besides, I don't believe any great man in history would -be so awful fond of me as Zac is." - -"Oh, he might be. Washington would have liked you, I think; although he -might not have followed you about so closely." - -Other famous men were mentioned: the Emperor Augustus, Magellan, -Shakespeare, Daniel Boone and Fenimore Cooper--also Joan of Arc. But it -was agreed by both father and son that the best known characteristics -of those persons were not sufficiently obvious in Zac to make a clear -case. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -VII - -TOWARD THE LIGHT - - -The snow lay deep--and still it fell. - -On a low stone wall by the roadside Ruth Heywood sat in solemn -meditation. With melancholy eyes she watched the door of the little red -school house a hundred yards away. On the porch of that school house -shivered Zac, also waiting. He, too, kept his eyes on the door, but he -had no intention of rebuking the prisoner--should he ever appear. Why -try to improve an already perfect thing? - -Above Ruth's head the North Wind, moaning through the leafless branches -of the maples, played dirge-like airs. Now, late in the afternoon, the -darkening sky seemed bearing down upon the snow-covered earth. And -Ruth's thoughts were all in harmony with the world about her. There was -reason for a joyless face. More experienced women than Ruth had found -sorrow and defeat in acting as guardian angel to erring males. - -Other children had gone home. Cyrus was being held in punishment. And -the punishment was just. The Guardian Angel disliked this business, but -Cyrus had no mother, aunt or sister, and his father, being only a man, -did not realize the situation. Therefore, it seemed clear to Ruth that -she was the chosen instrument by which Cyrus was to be rescued from a -career of shame and failure. - -At last the boy appeared. Zac bounced with joy, stirring the snowy air -with cries of welcome. And Cyrus, glad as any other prisoner to be -again at liberty, came running after. - -Ruth walked out into the road and stood before him. As he stopped there -was a smile on his face, the old familiar smile of the guilty, who -hope to soften the face of Justice. But Justice was not beguiled. On -the face of the Guardian Angel came no returning smile. Instead, with -accusing eyes, she slowly shook her head. - -"Cyrus, you ought to be ashamed." - -"Why?" - -"You know very well why. You are bad, very bad, and teacher was right -to keep you after school and punish you." - -Cyrus gave up smiling. He reached forth and toyed with one of the horn -buttons on the Guardian Angel's coat. "I don't think I am bad just -because I hate that geography." - -"It's your duty to learn it whether you hate it or not. You will grow -up an ignorant, good-for-nothing man unless you study your lessons. -Everybody knows that. You ought to go straight home and tell your -father you have been kept after school. Just tell him all about it. -Will you?" - -There was a puckering of the boy's mouth, but no answer. - -"If you were stupid, and couldn't learn if you tried, it would be -different, but you are just perverse and--and bad. If you don't do -better I shall just go and tell your father myself." - -"Oh, Ruthy! You wouldn't do that!" And he let go the button and took a -backward step, as one who shrinks from a faithless friend. - -"But it's for your own good, Drowsy. And, besides, teacher will tell -him if I don't." - -"I s'pose she would." - -"You don't want to grow up and know less than anybody else--even less -than school children?" - -Cyrus smiled. "That _would_ be funny!" - -"No, it would _not_ be funny. Do you think it would be funny to dig -ditches all your life and drive oxen like old Sim Barker?" - -"But what makes him so bad is because he's foolish and dirty and has -tobacco juice in the corners of his mouth. Geography wouldn't help -_him_--nor anybody else. Geography!" And Cyrus uttered the word with -a fathomless contempt. "That geography just makes me sick--just sick, -sick, sick--and mad! What stuff it tells you! Which is the largest -African Lake? Where are the Barbary States? What about the surface -of Abyssinia? What are the products of the Cape of Good Hope? Who in -thunder cares for the climate of Uruguay or the exports of Ecuador? -Who'd ever be such a fool as to want to remember the population of -Thibet? And who cares anyway? Any jackass can know those things -whenever he wants to by looking at a map or that fool geography." - -"Oh, Cyrus, you mustn't talk like that!" - -But the revolutionist went on. "Why don't they tell us things worth -remembering? Look at my lesson to-day! The Island of Madagascar! Who in -thunder wants to know about the products of Madagascar? Hoh! It makes -me sick!" - -"But, Drowsy, Madagascar is an important island and----" - -"Important grandmother! Any fool can read about it. Why don't they tell -me things I want to know?" - -"What thing _do_ you want to know?" - -"I want to know things that other people don't know. I want to know -how the earth looks when you are standing on the moon. I want to know -what's lying in the mud at the bottom of the Tiber--all the bronze -and gold and marble things; and what sort of people live on the other -planets, and why cats and dogs can see in the dark. And if God is good -and not mean--why did he make Bobby Carter a hunchback?" - -"Oh, Cyrus! It's wicked to talk like that!" - -"No, it isn't. I'm only asking about it. I'm only asking why teacher -doesn't tell us things worth knowing. I want to know what would happen -if you dug a well through the center of the earth. Would a stone keep -on dropping till it came out the other side?" - -"That is gravity," said Ruth in her wisest manner, glad of a chance to -hold her position as mentor. - -"Yes, but the name doesn't help any. If I got into a big cannon ball -and was shot up into the air how many hundreds of miles would I go -before I would fall back? And if you should go up in a balloon a mile -high I want to know if you would stay still and see the earth going -round and round beneath you or would you have to go with it--and -Massachusetts always just underneath." - -"There's no use in knowing that." - -"Yes, there is. When I'm grown up I may do something like it." - -Ruth laughed. "You silly boy! Nobody ever did such a thing." - -"But _I_ may. Lots of things have been done that were never done -before. And mighty surprisin' things, too!" - -[Illustration: "I WANT TO KNOW HOW THE EARTH LOOKS WHEN YOU ARE -STANDING ON THE MOON"--_Page 119_] - -There was no denying this. So Ruth, for want of words, merely gazed -upon him in sorrow and disapproval, as any Conservative might gaze -upon any Radical. Before she could frame a speech to fit the look the -orator again rushed on. He spoke rapidly and with feeling. The drowsy -eyes became wider open. His hands with the gray mittens moved freely in -the snowy air. To Ruth it was a sudden transformation of a prospective -ignoramus into an inspired orator. In a higher, thinner voice he -demanded: "What makes one kind of electricity do what another kind -can't? And if men are so smart, why didn't they use electricity -thousands of years ago instead of just now? The air has always been -full of it." - -This was an interesting question. But the Guardian Angel had no answer -ready. - -"And what makes light travel so fast? Why, just think of it, a hundred -and fifty thousand miles in one second! And heat. There's lots to -learn about heat. Why do folks burn wood and coal in winter instead -of storing up heat in summer when there's too much of it. They keep -ice all summer. And why not keep heat all winter? And just look at -sunshine! Why not keep some overnight to read by? I could do it if I -was a man." - -The orator paused to get his breath. - -"But, Cyrus, perhaps you can learn all those things later." - -"But I want to know 'em now. Not the things I've just been reciting, -the climate of Texas, the crops of New South Wales and the population -of Wurtemburg. Hoh! I could be a teacher myself and tell things -everybody knows already. Teachers are no smarter than anybody else. I -asked her why some families, like the Herricks, have all boys and other -families all girls." - -"What did she say?" - -"She just couldn't tell me. And she didn't like it when I asked her why -God, who knows everything, should do foolish things." - -"Oh, Cyrus!" - -"Well, he makes warm days in April to start things going, then sends a -sudden frost and nips the blossoms and kills the crops. Any fool farmer -knows better than that." - -Ruth frowned. "You should not say such things." But the orator ignored -the rebuke. "Instead of telling me about the wrecks and ruins and the -treasures and the forests at the bottom of the ocean, teacher tells me -how many bales of cotton and barrels of molasses come from Alabama. -Why, Ruthy, at the Island of St. Helena the ocean is nearly six miles -deep!" - -"But, Cyrus, nobody really knows just what lies at the bottom of the -ocean." - -"Hoh! That's just it. Teacher stuffs us with things everybody knows. -All the easy things. Any cow or any hen can know 'em. I want the other -things. If she's a teacher she ought to know about the bottom of the -sea. She ought to tell us about Atlantis. There's be some fun in that." - -"Atlantis?" - -"Yes. That was the big island out in the Atlantic Ocean that suddenly -disappeared. It sank to the bottom of the sea. Don't you remember?" - -Ruth was honest and slowly shook her head. Yet she knew that her -position as mentor, spiritual guide and good example became weaker -should the ignoramus she was rebuking display more learning than -herself. - -But Cyrus was too much absorbed in the bigness of his subject to think -of himself or other trifles. "Why, Ruthy, it was a whole kingdom, -this island--a continent. It was covered with beautiful temples, whole -cities and lots of people. And all of a sudden--nobody knows why--it -disappeared beneath the waves! And now, to-day, down at the bottom of -the ocean those cities and those marble temples are still standing!" - -[Illustration: "AND NOW, TODAY, DOWN AT THE BOTTOM OF THE OCEAN, THOSE -CITIES AND THOSE MARBLE TEMPLES ARE STILL STANDING"--_Page 123_] - -"Where was this island?" - -"Off to the west of Spain, and Africa. People think the Azores and the -Canary Islands are the tops of mountains of that sunken country." - -Ruth said nothing, but the enchanting eyes spoke plainly of surprise -and wonder. "When did that happen?" - -"Way back in ancient times; before Greece began." - -The enthusiasm of Cyrus produced its effect on Ruth, and the earnest -eyes of Ruth had their usual effect on Cyrus. He laid one of his hands, -in its gray worsted mitten, against the Guardian Angel's chest. "And, -Ruthy, just think of those white marble temples! Just think of the -streets and houses! Think of all the statues and the helmets, shields -and swords and spears all lying around down there at the bottom of the -ocean! Think of all the ornaments in gold and silver! And think, that -in those great white cities with all their treasure, coral and sea -plants grow instead of trees! And the only living things are fishes -swimming in and out among the statues and the monuments, the palaces, -the forums and the amphitheaters." - -The orator drew a long breath, then in a lower tone: "I'd give anything -to spend a day in that place." - -Little batches of snow had gathered on the heads and shoulders of -the two children. For a moment they stood in silence, Ruth gazing -thoughtfully at Cyrus, Cyrus gazing in anger and contempt toward the -school house. - -At this point there came a sudden change in the Guardian Angel's -manner. She realized the necessity for different tactics. Familiar -with Cyrus's astonishing cleverness in argument she suspected that he -was justifying his own guilt by this dazzling display of wisdom. Then -came a swift transformation in the irresistible eyes, from sympathy to -rebuke. - -"Stop," she said. - -Cyrus stopped--midway in a sentence. - -"Those reasons you can tell to teacher. They are no excuse for being a -lazy boy; I shall tell your father unless you do better." - -Then she turned and walked away, striking her cold hands together for -warmth. Cyrus followed, treading the narrow path in the snow made by -horse's feet. - -But shivering Zac, who had good excuse for shivering after his long -wait on the windy porch, ran joyfully ahead. He had borne with patience -this long delay. Cyrus picked up a handful of snow and molded it into -a ball. As they were passing the store he caught Ruth by a sleeve and -pointed to a boy more than a hundred feet away. The boy was stooping -over a sled. - -"What'll you bet I can't hit Luther from here?" - -Now Cyrus was a surprisingly good shot. He seemed able to hit whatever -he fired at, and from unbelievable distances. His surprising accuracy -in this direction had made him pitcher on the village nine. But Ruth, -remembering her rôle as Guardian Angel, merely turned about and started -on again in dignified silence. But from the corners of her eyes she -watched the unsuspecting Luther, for she knew the missile would reach -its mark. Her silent prophecy was correct. Through the snowy air the -missile flew. It landed, with force, on the victim's back, just below -his neck. He straightened up and looked about. Then with a shout of -defiance he scooped a handful of snow, quickly rolled it into a ball -and sent it toward the enemy. Here the unexpected happened. The snow -ball, thrown in a hurry, would have missed Cyrus by a yard or more -even had Fate allowed it to go its way. But Deacon Phineas Whitlock -intervened. This stern old puritan of ferocious aspect, of iron will -and despotic temper, the terror of children and of all other habitual -sinners, was just passing Cyrus in solemn dignity, toward the store. - -The snowy sphere forwarded by Luther landed full upon the deacon's -mouth. And, as the deacon's mouth happened to be partly open at the -time--from his habit of preaching to himself--he received within it a -portion of the missile as it smashed and spread about his face. Swiftly -he wiped his face with the back of a hand. His temper was a hot one. -Luther knew it, and he grabbed the rope to his sled and disappeared -down the hill behind the store, with a velocity no elderly deacon could -hope to attain. Spluttering and wiping snow from his mouth and nose he -turned threatening eyes on Cyrus. In a voice between a gasp and a shout -of rage he demanded: - -"Who is that boy? Who is he? What's his name?" - -Cyrus shook his head. "I don't know, sir." - -"Yes, you do! Who is he? What's his name?" - -"I don't know, sir. Honestly I don't." - -"Don't know, you young rascal! You have eyes. What's his name?" - -But Cyrus, with a protesting, most polite and sorrowful gesture with -both his hands, again proclaimed his ignorance. "I really don't know, -sir. The air is so full of snow I didn't see his face." - -Deacon Whitlock again spluttered. His speech was incoherent, but doubt -and anger were plainly indicated. However, he turned away--still -muttering. - -Then the Guardian Angel approached the liar. "Cyrus Alton! How can you -do such a thing?" - -"What thing?" - -"Deacon Whitlock knows perfectly well you knew who it was, and that -you told him a lie. And he will despise you for it. So would everybody -else. So do I despise you for it." - -His only answer to this was a look of mingled sorrow and remonstrance. -Then, instead of trying to defend himself, as the Guardian Angel -expected, he looked away. He also heaved a sigh,--a sigh of weariness -and discouragement, an unboylike, elderly sigh such as grown-ups use. - -The Guardian Angel continued. "And I should think you would be ashamed -to be such a coward." - -Cyrus stiffened at the word. "A coward!" - -"Yes, coward. People only lie when they are afraid. If you had been -brave you would have told the truth." - -"But, Ruthy, you don't understand. I did it to save Luther. If Deacon -Whitlock knew who it was he would tell Luther's father and Luther might -get a lickin'." - -Ruth shook her head. "Your duty was to tell the truth--or say nothing." - -"No, sirree! That isn't true. The Bible says do unto others as you'd -like to have other fellers do unto you. And I did just what I would -want Luther to do for me." - -This line of defense was confusing, and Ruth was familiar with his -skill in argument. She knew well enough the pitfalls he could dig for -the embarrassment of any adversary. So, regarding him with the sternest -look she could bring into a very gentle face, she said: - -"It is wrong to tell lies and you know it is. And you are bad--just -bad. Why don't you button up your coat in front? The snow is actually -blowing down your neck." - -And she drew the collar of his overcoat closer about his throat and -tried to fasten it. "Why, the button is gone! Joanna ought to see to -it. You really ought to have a mother, Drowsy. You aren't half taken -care of." - -This time Cyrus had nothing to say in his own defense. She laid a hand -against his cheek. "Your face is hot. I believe you are sick now!" - -Cyrus smiled, and nodded. "I shouldn't wonder if I was." - -"Why? How do you feel?" - -"Oh, sort of--sort of--funny." - -"How, funny?" - -"I don't know. Sort of cold and then hot and then cold--and kind of -trembly. That's why I didn't hit Luther on the head instead of down on -his back." - -"Now, Cyrus Alton, you go straight home and tell your father just how -you feel. Tell him all about it." Then, with increasing severity: "It's -a shame you haven't got a mother. I believe it is because you are bad -and that's the way God punishes you." - -Then she turned away and started on again, Cyrus close behind. In front -of her own home she stopped suddenly and wheeled about;--so suddenly -that Cyrus walked against her. He took a backward step, and as they -looked into each other's faces he said, quietly: - -"No, it doesn't." - -Ruth's eyes opened wide, in surprise. "Doesn't what?" - -"It doesn't mean what you asked." - -"But, Drowsy, I didn't ask anything!" - -"You thought it, though." - -"Thought what?" - -"That because I told lies now I would not be an honest man when I grew -up. But that isn't so. I shall be an honest man." - -"Yes, but I hadn't spoken a word. How could you tell what I was going -to say?" - -"Oh, I dunno. I can often do that." - -"Yes, you have done it before, but how do you do it? How do you know? -Just guess at it?" - -"No. It sort of comes--as if--well--just the usual way--only without -the words waiting to be spoken. I guess it's natural enough." - -"Natural enough! Why, it's most mysterious. Nobody else does it." - -"Oh, p'r'aps lots of people do it. We don't know everybody." - -"But if many people did it we should have heard about them. No, it's -very mysterious. Why, Drowsy, I had just opened my lips to say your -being such a liar now proves you will be a dishonest man and you said, -before I uttered a word, 'No, it doesn't.'" - -Cyrus smiled. "I guess it must be a sort of telegraphing without wires, -like that man Marconi has just discovered." - -For a moment they stood in silence, Ruth looking earnestly into the -boy's slumbrous, half smiling eyes, trying vainly to explain the -unexplainable. "It's all the harder to understand," she said, "because -you could only see the back of my head. And this horrid storm was -blowing between us." - -"Yes, it's funny, and I dunno much about it. But I believe I could get -it if I wasn't seeing you at all; I mean, if you were way off, out of -sight." - -"Really?" - -"Yes, sir! I believe I could. Let's try it some day. Will you?" - -"Yes, little Drowsy, when ever you say." - -Once more she laid a hand against his face. - -"Your cheeks are hot again. Now you go straight home and tell your -father just how you feel, and have Joanna sew on that button. Will you?" - -"Yep. All right." - -He started off. About a dozen yards away he stopped and looked back. -She was still standing where he left her, and was watching him. The -obvious lack of confidence in his promise--or her air of authority with -all this military discipline caused a momentary revolt. He picked up a -handful of snow, rolled it quickly in a ball and threw it. She saw it -coming, but merely bent her head and lifted an arm in protection. - -'Twas a good shot. But the snowball, being soft, merely broke against -her arm. Ruth lowered the arm and raised her head, slowly and calmly, -as a Guardian Angel who is invulnerable to earthly weapons. She pointed -toward his home. - -Cyrus raised his cap, moved it grandly through the air in a sweeping -curve, bowed very low, then turned and marched away. - -He walked with no suspicion of pursuit. But Ruth had obeyed a sudden -impulse. She started forward on a run, and when close behind him gave a -sudden push with both hands. He tumbled forward into a drift and rolled -over on his back. As he started to get up, she pounced on him with all -her weight. Then with both knees on his chest she rubbed his face with -snow. - -Had the assailant been another boy, Cyrus would have kicked and struck -and fought him off. But you do not kick and strike your aunts, your -mother or your best girl. So, he merely pushed and wriggled about, with -eyes and mouth tight shut. - -Zac seemed to enjoy the business as much as Ruth. He barked and plunged -about as if cheering for the victor. - -Well into Cyrus's face Ruth rubbed the snow. "Take that, you horrid -boy, and that, and that!" - -With a triumphant laugh she took her knees from his chest, jumped to -her feet and ran away. And as she ran she expected just what happened. -For Cyrus, also quickly on his feet, drew the backs of his mittens -across his eyes for clearer vision, then sent a snowball toward the -vanishing figure. It landed between her shoulders. But she ignored it, -and ran into her own house without even a backward glance. - -For a moment Cyrus stood and watched her, then started homeward. - -It was a friendly enough parting, but it might have been different had -they know how many years were to come and go before they met again. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -VIII - -A WORKER OF MIRACLES - - -Something of a liar was Cyrus, in emergencies, but he told the truth -when he said "lots of things have been done that never were done -before; and mighty surprisin' things, too!" - -History bears him out. The stories of Grimm and Andersen are -commonplace events besides the victories of Science. Interesting, -indeed, would be the views of Galileo on wireless telegraphy, or -Botticelli's opinion of the "movies," or even what language the British -commander might have used at Bunker Hill had the Yankees employed -aeroplanes. Since the impossible is now in daily use, the dream of the -visionary in every home, incredible things have ceased to astonish. -Fairy tales are coming true. - -So thought Dr. Alton, on the afternoon following that last interview -between Ruth and Cyrus, when he was suddenly converted from incredulity -to compulsory faith in an achievement which he had believed -impossible. As he drove up to his own house Cyrus leaned out of the -sitting room window and told him to go at once to Mrs. Heywood who had -fallen on the stairs and broken a leg. Dr. Alton asked no questions, -turned about and drove off. A few hundred yards along the road he met -Mr. Heywood, who, much agitated, and traveling fast, as if trying to -walk and run at the same time. The doctor stopped and the clergyman -climbed in. As they started off Mr. Heywood exclaimed, out of breath: -"How fortunate this is. I was afraid you might not be at home. Poor -Alice, I fear, has broken her leg." - -"Yes, so I heard. I am on my way there." - -"On your way to my house?" - -"Of course." - -Mr. Heywood turned in surprise. "You say you--you knew of the accident?" - -"Yes." - -"But, Doctor, you couldn't. It happened less than ten minutes ago." - -"Cyrus told me. Perhaps somebody telephoned him." - -"But I have no telephone." - -Dr. Alton smiled. "Possibly somebody is a faster runner than you." - -"But no one was there except Alice, Ruth and myself." - -"Ruth may have done it." - -"Ruth has not left her mother. She is there now. And nobody else knows -of it." - -For a moment Dr. Alton was silent. "Bad news travels fast, Mr. Heywood." - -"But not when there's nobody to carry it." - -"Yes, there's that miraculous new messenger boy, wireless telegraphy." - -Mr. Heywood was in no mood for argument and said no more as Dr. Alton -obviously had little faith in any mysterious messenger. So, for the -moment, the subject was dropped. - -When the bone was set--and it proved a simple fracture--Mr. Heywood -followed Dr. Alton to the door. "I wish, Doctor, you would ask Cyrus -how he got his information--just to gratify my curiosity." - -"Are you absolutely sure that Ruth did not tell him?" - -Mr. Heywood, for answer, stepped back into the hall and called to his -daughter, who at once came running down the stairs. - -"Ruth," he said, "do you know how Cyrus heard of your mother's accident -so soon after it happened?" - -"Yes, sir. I told him." - -"You!" exclaimed her father. "Why Ruth, you never left the house!" - -"And Cyrus," said Dr. Alton, "is at home, confined to the house with a -bad cold. At least that's where he ought to be." - -"Oh, sir, he is!" said Ruth. "He sent me a note asking me to talk to -him, on the porch, from our house at just five o'clock, and I did. -Mother fell on the stairs just as I began to talk so I told him about -it." - -"Do you mean," said her father, "that your voice carried from this -house to his, nearly a mile away?" - -"Oh, no, sir! Cyrus doesn't have to hear your voice, always. He has a -special way of knowing things." - -"A special way of knowing things?" - -Ruth nodded. - -"What do you mean, Ruth? What things?" - -"Things you don't say." - -"But you did say to him that your mother had an accident." - -"Yes, sir; but he didn't have to hear it. He gets it some other way." -She added, with a smile: "He doesn't get it through his ears." - -"Then how does he get it?" - -"I don't know. He says it is in the air. He says he thinks it's a kind -of wireless telegraph and must work the same way." - -"Most extraordinary!" murmured Mr. Heywood, and he looked at Dr. Alton -as if hoping for more light on a cloudy subject. Dr. Alton, however, -was gazing thoughtfully at the girl, whom he knew to be truthful. He -also knew the misleading possibility of a child's imagination. "Do you -really think, Ruth, that Cyrus learned of the accident in that way?" - -"I don't know, sir. I couldn't hear anything from _him_." - -"You mean if he answered back you couldn't get it?" - -"Yes, sir. Nobody but Cyrus could understand anything at all, so far -away." - -"He knew that you couldn't hear anything _he_ said?" - -"Yes, sir. He just wanted to find out if he could tell what a person -said so far away without hearing it." - -Mr. Heywood turned to Dr. Alton. "He evidently succeeded, and it seems -quite incredible." - -Dr. Alton did not reply, directly. He had closed his eyes, and his own -thoughts, whatever their nature, were so absorbing that Mr. Heywood's -voice had failed to reach him. His abstraction, however, was brief. -With a smile he shook hands with Ruth. "I thank you for your testimony, -little lady. You make a perfect witness." Then to her father: "I shall -interview Cyrus at once and we will try to reach a better understanding -of the mystery." - -He promised to call in the morning to see Mrs. Heywood, and then -departed. - -When he entered his own house, half an hour later, he found the worker -of miracles asleep on a sofa near the open fire. Curled up at his feet -lay Zac. But Zac was not asleep. When the doctor moved toward the fire -and stood before it, warming his hands, Zac followed him with his eyes. -These cautioning eyes were saying: "Don't make a noise or you'll wake -him." - -Dr. Alton understood. He made no noise. But as he looked down upon the -sleeper he saw signs of vivid dreams. The sleeper kicked, muttered and -moved his hands. One vigorous kick landed on Zac's forehead, but the -recipient merely closed his eyes, hoping for better luck another time. -One more kick, spasmodic and violent, just missing Zac's head by an -eighth of an inch, and the boy awoke. As he awoke he sat up and shouted: - -"She's out!" - -Seeing his father he swung his legs over the side of the sofa, blinked -and laughed aloud. Zac also laughed:--that is, he barked. He always -barked when Cyrus laughed, just to be in it. To do whatever Cyrus -did was, of course, beyond a dog's ambition, but laughter being a -manifestation of his owner's joy, he expressed himself with sincerity -and enthusiasm by tail and voice. Moreover, by always joining Cyrus -in his mirth the world might know that their tastes were similar. In -fact, to be identified with Cyrus in any way was glory enough for any -dog. Cyrus was really the Only Boy. There were, of course, other boys, -but they could not all be Cyruses. God was not running this world -on any such plan. There was always one specimen that overtopped the -others. Only one Helen of Troy, one Socrates, one Columbus, one George -Washington and one Cyrus. Zac was not familiar with these names but -they serve their humble purpose in fixing the status of the human being -that he loved and respected above all others. - -"That's the funniest thing that ever was," said Cyrus. "What do you -think I dreamed? I dreamed we were playing ball on the ice on Minnebuc -Lake; us fellers against the women, and we all had skates on. I was -pitchin'. Mrs. Snell was at the bat and Deacon Whitlock first base. -Mrs. Snell's kind of fat, you know, and fierce and dignified, but she -wore trousers like the rest of us. Oh, it was funny!" - -Here the miracle worker paused and wagged his head, indicating -suppressed mirth. "Well, I gave her a twister. Jimminy! Wouldn't I -like to give such balls in a real game! 'Twas an up and down curve and -a fade away all in one. It went like a cork screw. No feller would -ever try to hit it. But Mrs. Snell did! She just shut her eyes and let -go--and she hit it! I caught it and threw to first. It turned into a -snowball between me and Deacon Whitlock and hit him square in his wide -open mouth--for he's always talking to himself, you know." - -"Yes, I know." - -"Well, Mrs. Snell dropped her bat and went sliding down to first--on -her skates--and when she got there she couldn't stop. She just scooped -up Deacon Whitlock as if he'd been a little boy and carried him off -in her arms. He was screamin' and kickin' and wavin' his arms like a -mad baby. And Luther, who was out in right field, grabbed her by the -trousers and tried to hold her back. Oh, it was funny!" - -Again the worker of miracles was convulsed with mirth. - -Dr. Alton nodded, smiled and expressed a proper appreciation of the -unusual game. He looked down into the boy's laughing face, as he spoke, -and there came to him an impression, considered trivial at the moment, -but remembered later with a livelier interest. It seemed to him, for -a brief moment, that Cyrus's smiling eyes were gazing deep into his -own as if groping, in a friendly way, for unspoken thoughts. Dr. Alton -realized that this impression was probably due to his recent discovery -of the boy's extraordinary faculty--a usual look in Cyrus's eyes which, -earlier in the day, would have made no impression. But the look was -short, little more than a glance, and Cyrus lowered his eyes to his -swinging legs and pulled up a stocking which was slipping down. - -"This afternoon," he said, "I broke a pane of glass in the parlor." - -"How did that happen?" - -"Well," said Cyrus, still watching his swinging legs, "I was playing -barn-tick in the parlor with Zac. I would throw the ball against the -wall and catch it when it bounced back, and every two or three throws -I'd let Zac get it. Then once, I threw it kind of careless----" - -"Carelessly, you mean." - -"Yes, sir, kind of carelessly and it hit the window instead of the -wall." - -Dr. Alton slowly moved his head in acknowledgment of the explanation. -The other subject on which he desired light was so much more important -than any broken window pane that neither his face nor manner expressed -very serious disapproval. In fact, Cyrus had hardly finished his -confession before his father spoke. - -"How did you happen to know, this afternoon, that Mrs. Heywood had -broken her leg?" - -"Oh, that was a great idea! I've invented a new kind of wireless!" And -he went on to tell, but in different words, the same story that Ruth -had given. "And just think! if everybody can do it there won't be any -need of telegraph machines, or letters either. People can talk miles -apart--just talk, as Ruth and I did!" - -"Yes, of course, but how long ago did you find you could do this?" - -"Only to-day. This was the first time." - -"But Ruth says you often know what people think, or are going to say, -before they say it?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"How long have you been able to do this?" - -"Oh, p'r'aps three or four years." - -"Why did you never happen to tell me?" - -"I supposed you knew. I supposed everybody could do it." - -"No; it's a very unusual faculty--very unusual indeed." Then, with a -smile: "I suppose you have often known what _I_ was thinking?" - -Cyrus laughed. "Oh, yes; lots of times!" - -"When was the last time?" - -Cyrus hesitated. He looked down at Zac, as if for encouragement. Then, -with a glance from the corners of his eyes: "Just now." - -"Just now!" - -Cyrus bobbed his head and grinned. "Yes, just now." - -"Why--what was it?" - -Again Cyrus hesitated. His father smiled--the smile of reassurance. "Go -ahead and tell me about it." - -"Will you promise not to be angry or say anything bad?" - -"Yes, I promise." - -"Well, when I broke the window pane in the parlor to-day I was going to -wait and let Joanna tell you about it when I was out of the way. But -when you looked at me to-night after I had told about the dream I saw -that you were in such a hurry to find out about the message from Ruth, -that you wouldn't think so much of the window pane. So I told you." - -Dr. Alton smiled and kept his promise, refraining from criticism. -But he recalled the look in the boy's eyes, a few moments since--the -look as of gently exploring another's thoughts. The recollection at -this present moment brought a singular feeling almost of awe; as of -something beyond human limitations. Was he on the border land of the -supernatural? And yet, as he looked into the honest face of Cyrus, his -wonder did not lessen. He found, therein, no solution of the mystery. -He discovered nothing beyond the familiar face of his normal, sane -and healthy boy, absorbed in things that became his age. He knew that -Cyrus, like other boys, would rather eat than pray; that he preferred -stealing apples to hearing sermons and would rather be a pirate than -a bishop. This knowledge did not trouble the father. He had been a boy -himself. - -Then, sitting on the old sofa beside Zac and Cyrus, he asked -many questions. They were all answered. Cyrus had nothing to -conceal. With boyish frankness he told many things, some serious, -some amusing--little secrets of his own--when he had enjoyed his -extraordinary gift. His experiences in divining the thoughts of others -were given as matter of fact occurrences. He had believed, until now, -that this power was possessed by all the world. - -It was a cozy group on the old sofa before the open wood fire, Zac, -Cyrus and Dr. Alton, and they stayed an hour or more. Dr. Alton began -to realize that this faculty was not only mind reading but something -far beyond. That thoughts of others should come to this boy with -no effort of his own was almost incredible. Even more amazing was -the transmission through space not only of spoken words but of the -unuttered wishes of far away friends. Was his son the master of a vital -secret, a mysterious power now unknown to science but, in future years -perhaps, to be common knowledge? Was it within the realms of material -science? Or was it an individual form of spiritual sympathy, some -ethereal harmony attuned by superhuman guidance to a chosen few? - -When Cyrus had gone upstairs to bed Dr. Alton sat long before the open -fine, remembering. And there was much to remember. At last he stepped -out into the night air and stood upon the doorstep. Before him, in -the moon-light, were snow-covered fields, tall skeletons of elms and -maples, their leafless branches like barren memories against the sky. -But this New England landscape was not what he saw. He saw, through his -closed eyelids, the blue waters of the Adriatic. Close beside him a -pair of loving eyes, dark, tragic--but smiling now--were looking deep -into his own and the woman's lips were asking if it were possible for -the unborn child to inherit its mother's power of divining another's -thoughts. And he--the wise young doctor!--shook his head and smiled at -the foolish question. - -And, lo! not only had the power descended to the boy but with it had -come an added faculty even more mysterious and unbelievable! - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -IX - -DREAMS? - - -It was the very next morning that Ruth's father, the Rev. George -Bentley Heywood, received an urgent appeal from China to fill a vacancy -in the missionary field. Ten days after receiving the message he, his -wife and tearful daughter, were on a train for San Francisco. - -The days that followed were solemn days for Cyrus. And it so happened -that the next ten years were solemn years for Longfields. A new -railroad carried through a neighboring town left the village stranded. -The young men began to leave. When a house burned there was no -rebuilding. The tottering sheds behind the weed-grown cellar of the -Baptist Church were typical of the town's decay. It was significant -that when Philetus Bisbee died--house and carriage painter--his -business had so shrunk that no one took his place. The burning of the -inn meant that Longfields as a resting place for travelers was to be -forgotten. - -People died in Longfields, but few were born. Pupils at the little red -school house dwindled to about a dozen. The teacher's pay was so small -that to accept the position became an act of charity to the village. - -When Judge David Lincoln moved away he expressed sincere regret: "I am -sorry to go, but lawyers cannot thrive on memories alone." - -Wits of neighboring towns referred to the sleeping village as Pompeii, -Old Has Been and Long Memories. The main street with its overhanging -elms was always silent. And the common, once noisy with excited -children, was solemn in its stillness. Every day seemed Sunday. - -In short, Longfields went the way of many other New England villages. -It became a restful and picturesque reminder of better days. But, after -all, it was merely following, in its decay, the example of famous -queens of fashion, Troy, Babylon and Thebes. - -This gentle retirement to oblivion affected Cyrus less than his father. -For Dr. Alton sent him away to school, to prepare for college, and the -absent boy almost forgot the tragedies of his home. Moreover, Cyrus -found much excitement in his new surroundings; much to learn--and -unlearn--from contact with so many others of his age. They came from -town and country and from almost every state. What he got from books -was least in interest and often the least in value. That million-sided -problem, Human Nature, was, as usual, the hardest to understand, the -last to be solved. - -Rarely does a boy with Anglo Saxon blood in his veins find it -necessary to cure himself of too much polish. But even in this case -Old Human Nature was triumphant. When away from Longfields Cyrus -found his ceremonious courtesy was misapplied, misunderstood and -almost a misdemeanor. His eighteenth century bows were regarded by his -chambermaid as ironical; by his classmates as a silly affectation, -and were resented by his instructors as efforts to be funny at their -expense. - -Further discouragement came one day in the friendly warning of an older -boy. "You know, Drowsy, or you don't know, that those salaams of yours -give the impression that before you came to this academy you were the -colored porter on a parlor car." - -The result was that before the end of the first term his manners were -only a trifle better than those of other boys. Except, of course, when -taken off his guard, as in his interview with the wife of a certain -prosperous citizen who slipped and fell in coming out of the post -office. She was a sensitive lady, irascible and of massive proportions. -As she landed on the sidewalk, two snow white stockings with stalwart -limbs inside waved briefly before the public eye. They resembled the -whitened limbs of a billiard table. Letters fell from one of her -hands. With the other she clung convulsively to a large umbrella. Three -girls involuntarily laughed aloud. - -As the lady climbed to her feet two light blue eyes shot fury from a -purple face. When Cyrus stepped forward to gather up the scattered -letters he forgot all his recent training, raised his cap, moved it -gracefully in the air and bent low and reverentially--as the First -Lord of the Bed Chamber might salute his Sovereign. But the boiling -lady identified this seeming mockery with the laughter of the maidens. -She brought the fat umbrella hard down upon the head of Cyrus, and -she struck with all her might. Luckily for the recipient her hand was -quivering with rage, and no physical damage was accomplished. But the -damage to his pride was serious. As he straightened up and looked the -lady in the face his cheeks were hot. The erstwhile drowsy eye showed -astonishment--and anger. His cherubic lips had parted: "Then pick 'em -up yourself, you stupid old----" - -At that instant he recalled an injunction of his father. "Whatever may -happen, Cyrus, always be a gentleman." He had not been told just how a -gentleman should behave when beaten on the head with an umbrella--and -in public. But he closed his lips without even beginning the sentence. -He bowed again, and this bow was even more elaborate than the first. - -"I beg your pardon, madam." - -Then he turned, put on his cap and walked away. - -Again was heard the giggle of the girls. That a person should apologize -for being hit on the head with an umbrella was too funny for silence. - -Meanwhile, the cost of all this experience and of his pursuit of -knowledge fell heaviest on his father. The practical obliteration of -his native town and field of work meant financial embarrassment for -Dr. Alton. The few remaining inhabitants of the village were now too -poor to pay a doctor. To fit Cyrus for college, and keep him there, Dr. -Alton exhausted the small capital left him by his father. When that -was gone he tried to sell his orchard and the best portions of the -farm. But no purchasers appeared. He did sell, however, to a dealer in -Boston, some family heirlooms; rare pieces of Colonial furniture and -all his Canton china. - -To Cyrus, meanwhile, Fate was paying especial attention--with more to -come. During his last year in college a surprising change took place -in his ways of spending time--surprising, but familiar to biographers. -Such transformations, where indifference suddenly changes to ambition, -indolence to industry, and where the trifler becomes in earnest, -have frequently occurred, as with Julius Cćsar, St. Paul, Henry V of -England, William Shakespeare, Mirabeau and many other notables. So -there was nothing original in this sudden awakening of Cyrus. During -the first three years of his college course he was a "good fellow." -When classmates entered his room with "Come along, Drows, old man; -chuck the books, and now for the real life," he joyfully obeyed and -took chances on recitations: with the usual result that only distant -relations were maintained with the upper end of his class. It was the -price of popularity and of the joy of living. Toward the end of his -last year, however, his more festive companions were horrified by an -unexpected miracle. A little book came into his hands. It threw a -dazzling light on the possibilities of electricity. It aroused his -curiosity and so kindled his imagination that he turned his back on -the "real life" and became studious. This sudden thirst for knowledge -caused a shock to his festive pals. They were anxious about him. For, -indeed, is there not cause for alarm, when a Bully Boy, a Rattling Good -Sport and a Live One suddenly loses his grip on "real life" and becomes -a Bookworm, a High Brow and a Dead One? - -But Cyrus did not weaken. He clung to his new love. Unavailing were -such arguments as "Chuck the science, Drowsy. There's time enough for -wisdom when you are old!" or, "Don't be a chump, Drows. You can't be -young forever. Remember, Youth is short and Science long." - -And he felt neither shame nor repentance when his own chum rebuked him. -"Drows, old man, you are just a crank. Harvard Students are not giving -points to old sharps in science. For God's sake don't be a freak and -get musty before your time." - -But words were wasted. This new ambition had brought to him a -revelation of his real self. He had no suspicion, at the time, that the -reading of this little book was to lead to adventures surpassing the -wonder tales of his childhood. To his brain came a dazzling light. He -began to realize the infinite possibilities of man's power, with the -hidden forces of the universe once in his control. A fantastic dream, -perhaps, but the more he thought the deeper grew his conviction. He -knew--or thought he knew--that he had it in him to open wider the door -that hides the secrets of the air. Greater still would have been his -confidence had he known that a part of his inheritance was the courage -and the genius of the famous Italian scientist who wrote the book. And -it appeared from the little portrait of the author that he, too, had -slumbrous eyes. It was ordained, however, that their relationship was -to remain hidden both from the great discoverer and from his yet more -daring grandson. - -At the end of the four years at Harvard, Dr. Alton's finances were -low, indeed. But Cyrus argued for a course in Chemistry and Physics at -the Institute of Technology in Boston. He took the course, and it was -clearly understood that it meant bitter economies for both father and -son. But the economies were calmly faced. Some of them meant serious -sacrifice in personal comfort, not only in the little luxuries of life, -but in clothing, food and fuel. Of blows to pride they made no account. - -At last Cyrus finished his course at the "Teck." His return to -Longfields was on a smiling afternoon in May and he found his father -at home, sitting on the porch with Luther Dean. Cyrus and his boyhood -friend had seen little of each other during the last six years. Luther -had grown into a rather handsome young man. Otherwise Fortune had not -favored him. With many other American boys, his ambition was to become -a millionaire, and to be quick about it. And with many other boys in -this upsetting country, he looked down, in fancy, from the glittering -peaks of sudden wealth, upon the patient plodders in the valley below. -Not for him the goody mottoes of the Sunday School. Not for him a -wasted youth in "starting at the bottom, working your way up" with -"slow but sure," and all the other maxims for smothering talent. For -him the Napoleonic grasp of opportunity, the cutting of the Gordian -knot. He believed in quick achievement. He believed - - "There is a tide in the affairs of men - Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune." - -And he believed in short cuts. His models for success were the -millionaires "who had struck it rich." And he was firm in the faith -that his revolt from "Patient Industry," "Honest Toil" and similar -delusions was a sign of genius. In other words, he was the sort of -youth no man desires in his employ. For brief periods he had held -positions in different establishments in Worcester. Now, again, he was -out of a job. - -But Luther's manners were good, and his raiment above reproach. At -present, as the three men sat on the porch, his spruce attire was in -striking contrast with the almost shabby garments of Dr. Alton and his -son. But Dr. Alton happened to be one of those men who have no need -of clothing unless for warmth or propriety. In his head and face and -figure were lines of strength and beauty that gave distinction. In his -bearing and in all his movements there was dignity and a natural grace. -Were he dressed as a beggar at a coronation he would have held his own. - -As for Cyrus, the last ten years seemed to have made little difference, -merely transforming him from boy to man; this change, as wise men have -long suspected, being mostly outward. He grew to the usual height, had -the usual number of teeth, recited from the usual books, played the -usual games, committed the usual follies, absorbed the usual experience -from the various victories and defeats of our usual life, still -retaining at twenty-one the drowsy eyes and curving lips of his early -childhood. Deep within him, however, were aspirations and a strength of -purpose that contradicted the languid eyes and boyish mouth. - -After the greetings, and when various questions had been asked and -answered, Dr. Alton lighted his old briarwood pipe, took a whiff or two -and said to his son: - -"And the great idea, Cyrus, any further developments?" - -"I should say there were! I've got it, father!" - -Dr. Alton raised his eyebrows. "Really? You don't mean----" - -"Yes I do. I mean just that. I have found it. It's the wonder of -wonders. And it works--even better than I hoped." - -Dr. Alton straightened up and smiled--a smile of surprise and pleasure. - -Cyrus returned the smile. At the same time his drowsy eyes became less -drowsy and in his voice was a mild excitement. "And so simple! Why, I -feel like laughing when I think of it. The only wonder is that hundreds -of people have never discovered it." - -"What is it?" said Luther. - -Cyrus hesitated a moment, as if to be sure of his words. "It's a simple -and inexpensive device for concentrating in a space about the size of -your two hands any quantity of electrical force." - -"When you say any quantity, do you mean enough to run a typewriter--or -an automobile?" - -"I mean enough to run a railroad train or an ocean steamer; or to lift -this house--or any other building." - -Luther smiled the smile of doubt. "And the thing is no bigger than your -two hands?" - -"It resembles two metal soup plates back to back." - -Luther whistled--a short whistle signifying a deficiency of belief. -"That sounds kind of--kind of--as if somebody had wheels in his head. -How does the miracle get its power?" - -"From the atmosphere around it." - -"With no dynamo, nor motor, nor transformer?" - -"All that is between the metal dinner plates. Why manufacture power -when the whole universe is vibrating with it? It is like manufacturing -air to breathe." - -Luther leaned forward, excitement in his face. "Why it doesn't seem -possible. And you have really done it, Drowsy?" - -Cyrus nodded. - -"But it will revolutionize everything!" - -"Yes--it will." - -"Is it some new form of electricity you discovered?" - -"No, merely a new way of applying our old knowledge. You see, it has -been known for some time that air is energy. Dancing about us, in the -atmosphere, is plenty of power waiting to be harnessed; power enough to -toss mountains into space if we could only direct it. You may have read -about the tremendous force in the vibrations of atoms." - -"No; not a word." - -"Well, every atom is a center of energy. And every atom is composed -of millions of electrons. Do you happen to be interested in electro -kinetics?" - -"Don't even know what it means." - -"It relates to the properties of electric currents. My discovery is -merely the concentration and directing of those currents. The apparatus -is about the size of an apple pie, and so simple that I laugh when I -think of it." - -"But, Drowsy, you can't get so much power in such a little mechanism. -That thing could never start a locomotive or an ocean steamship." - -"Start it! A dozen of these little things fastened to an ocean -steamer could lift it in the air to any height, crew, passengers and -cargo, and drive it at any rate of speed and for any distance. And at -no cost." - -[Illustration: "COULD LIFT IT IN THE AIR TO ANY HEIGHT, CREW, -PASSENGERS, AND CARGO"--_Page 155_] - -Luther whistled. "Is Cyrus guying us, Doctor, or is he only dotty?" - -Dr. Alton smiled, but gave no answer. - -"After you had lifted the steamship up into the air," said Luther, "how -soon could you get her across the ocean?" - -"That's for the captain to decide. He could do it comfortably in an -hour or two--or, in five or ten minutes, if he were really in a hurry." - -"Oh, I say, Drowsy, come down to earth again, and join us." - -"No, I can't come down when I once get up. But I don't blame you for -not believing it, Luther. I only believe it myself when I see it -working. It is really easy to understand, though, when you know that -electro magnetic waves in the ether are cavorting through space at the -rate of about a hundred and eighty-six thousand miles a second, forced -by our friends the electrons. There's no reason why my device should -not go at about the same rate. That would take our passengers and cargo -across the ocean in considerably less than one minute." - -Dr. Alton shook his head. "No, Cyrus, that's too sudden even for a -Yankee." - -Luther assumed an expression of alarm. "Do you think Cyrus will get -over this, Doctor? Is he wild on other subjects, or is it only one -screw that's loose?" - -Cyrus laughed and turned toward his father. "What an awful joke if -Luther should be right! I could easily believe it a crazy dream if one -or two scientists had not already prophesied it. The thing was sure to -come. And now that it's here it seems too simple to be true. I merely -happen to be the first man to stumble on it." - -"Just what is it?" said Luther. "How do you do it? What's the process?" - -For an instant their eyes met. To Luther came an odd sensation he had -known as a boy--that the tranquil gaze of Cyrus was reading his secret -thoughts. As his thoughts at that moment were not for publication the -sensation was disturbing. To hide his embarrassment he turned away -toward Dr. Alton, and made a joking remark about trips to Europe, over -and back, on Saturday afternoon. "It even beats wireless," he said. - -"Well, rather!" said Cyrus. "Wireless will soon be a back number." - -Again Luther whistled. "Wireless a back number! Well, that's certainly -going some!" - -But Dr. Alton showed little surprise, merely regarding his son more -attentively. "What is to take its place, Cyrus?" - -"Just the spoken word. Its transmission through the ether with no -mechanical appliance for sending or for receiving." - -Luther smiled. "It will have to be a pretty loud voice." - -"No louder than wireless. It will be carried by the same forces that -carry the wireless message, only more simply applied. The air about -us is alive with electric force that is perfectly willing to take our -messages without the machinery." - -Dr. Alton smiled. "Well, you seem to have confidence in it. That's a -good beginning, anyway." - -Cyrus also smiled. "I have already done it." - -"Already done it?" - -"Yes, sir; and more than once. Billy Saunders and I went out into the -country, stood nearly a mile apart, spoke in ordinary tones and each -heard more than half the other said." - -"With no instruments whatever?" - -"None except a little receiver about the size of your watch." - -Luther whistled again. On his face was a look of surprise--the Surprise -that's the brother of Doubt. - -Dr. Alton was looking earnestly at his son. "Is that really true, -Cyrus? Are you absolutely sure no previous knowledge of each other's -intentions may have helped a little?" - -Then Cyrus explained the experiments in detail. He told how they -purposely chose subjects unknown to each other; how they put on paper -the words as they arrived; that the percentage of messages correctly -received increased at every trial; and that weather conditions, wind, -rain or sunshine seemed to make little difference in the results. -After answering other questions, he said to his father: - -"But that is only the beginning. The day is coming when even the spoken -word will be superfluous." - -"Just what do you mean, Cyrus?" - -"I mean communicating thought by electric induction--by direct -vibrations." - -"Say, Cyrus!" exclaimed Luther, "the Arabian Nights isn't in it with -you!" - -"No, it isn't," said Cyrus. "For I have already done it." - -"Done what?" - -"Sent thought waves--and received them." - -"Oh, come off." - -But Dr. Alton was looking earnestly at his son. He recalled one or two -occasions when Cyrus had accomplished this very thing. And now, as they -looked into each other's eyes, he suspected his own thoughts, at this -very moment, were being read. His suspicions were correct, for Cyrus -answered an unspoken question. - -"Yes, sir, it's the same as those you are recalling. But now I -understand it. Much depends, of course, on the individual. Latent -faculties in individuals, however, can be surprisingly developed. I do -believe that within a few years our thoughts, spoken and unspoken, will -be traveling through the air as wireless travels now." - -Dr. Alton made no reply. He closed his eyes for a time and smoked in -silence. His thoughts went back to those unexplained episodes when -Cyrus was a boy; then further back to the villa by the Adriatic. He was -recalling a conversation in the loggia of that hidden villa when Luther -rose to his feet and exclaimed: - -"Is there anything, Cyrus, too impossible for you to believe?" - -"Nothing--if it is interesting. I never reject a good fairy tale. Why -be a skeptic? To look at a skeptic's face is enough. His digestion is -never good. He thinks with his stomach and his stomach reacts on his -brain. That means farewell to enthusiasm and to all the best things of -life. Ambition and gastric juice are partners. Had Buddha, Christ or -Mohammed been skeptics you never would have heard of them. No skeptic -could possibly succeed as an inventor, poet, explorer, patriot, or as -any other kind of hero. He fails before he begins." - -Cyrus paused for a moment, then added: "Perhaps you are both saying to -yourselves, better be a skeptic than a credulous ass. But that's open -to argument. The credulous ass is not only happier but he has Hope for -a backer, and he is a heap sight more likely to get somewhere than the -pessimist. The pessimist never starts." - -His father nodded approval. - -Luther put on his hat. "Right you are, Drowsy. Me for a credulous ass. -I swallow all you say, electric miracles and all. Of course, this -sending ideas about the world free of expense and without even the -trouble of saying them, is quite a morsel for the ordinary throat, but -I've got it part way down and am holding on to it. If what you say is -true, miracles are with us. Jimminy! It's a large idea!" - -"No miracle at all," said Cyrus. "Not half so miraculous as the growth -of that apple tree from a seed. And the human brain! Two handfuls of -gray matter--and what it achieves! Did you ever happen to realize what -a self-starting, Johnny-on-the-Spot, up-to-date miracle your memory is?" - -Luther laughed. "Well, no. Not enough to forget my meals." - -"Then do it some time. It's the champion mystery of the world. No man -knows how it works. We know it furnishes us with names and places, -facts and figures and events without limit, and they come to us -instantaneously without waiting to be called. A thousand telegraph -clerks with an acre of pigeon holes could not accomplish in an -hour what your memory does in a second. It is quicker than greased -lightning. It's the miracle of miracles. Why, Luther, these thought -waves of mine, compared with it, are so simple and so easy that any -normal baby could operate them." - -"I guess you are right." - -After a few more words, this conversation ended, and Luther departed. -But Dr. Alton and Cyrus sat a long time on the little porch talking -seriously of the Great Discovery. - -But the inventor, later that afternoon, was not too much absorbed in -electric wonders to visit a corner at the end of the garden. There he -straightened up a slab that marked a grave. The slab was of wood. He -brushed the surface with careful hands and read the letters he himself -had carved nine years before. - - HeRe Lies - Zac ALton He - Was VeRY SmARt - and ALSO - GooD - -These lines Cyrus always read with a smile--not of mirth, but of -satisfaction with their truth and justice to his old friend's -character. Pleasant indeed were those memories!--lively and bounding -memories: of adoration for himself and of unswerving loyalty to the -final breath of a short but joyous life. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -X - -THE FARTHEST TRAVELER - - -One sultry morning about six weeks later, Luther Dean got off a train -at Springfield. Along the shady side of the main street he walked. -He walked faster than usual. His eyes, his hot, perspiring face and -general manner showed suppressed excitement. And why not? Wealth, and -without labor, would soon be his. - -A few blocks from the station he turned into another street, then, not -far from the corner he entered a small shop. On the front window of the -shop were these words: - - I. KATZ - - ELECTRICAL CONTRACTOR - -The brevity of his name, as here shown, gave as much pleasure to the -proprietor as he had suffered annoyance from his fuller and more -various name, Isidore Pollacksek Zwillenberg Stchcrbatcheff Katz. And -even his last little name had proved almost a curse, as his intimates -called him "Malty" and "Puss Katz"; also "Tom Katz" and "How Many." -But I. Katz, of black eyes and muddy complexion, was an ambitious -young man, industrious, surprisingly clever, watchful and polite. He -and Luther Dean had one desire in common--an unquenchable thirst for -wealth. There was, however, this important difference, that Katz was -willing to work for it, while Luther regarded thirst as a substitute -for effort. - -When Katz's mother, Rosa Hlawatsch, married Emanuel Katz she had a -prosperous brother-in-law, Schweers Hjort, who lent the bridal pair -enough money to start for America. Two years after Isidore's birth his -parents died. Then Mr. and Mrs. Zoob Pschenitza adopted the orphan and -cared for him until his nineteenth year, when he found employment with -Mr. Hitzrot Fuss, an electrician. Mr. Hitzrot Fuss was a cousin of the -Zoob Pschenitzas. - -This July morning when Luther entered his shop I. Katz had been in -business for himself about a year. The opening of the door rang a bell -that gave warning to the proprietor, at work in a little shop at the -rear. Luther walked directly to this little shop. I. Katz laid down his -work. - -"Ah! Good morning, Dean." - -"Same to you, Kittens." - -"Haven't seen you for a long time. How are you? What's the news from -Longdeado?" - -"News enough--this time." - -As the two men stood by the work bench, and Katz took a second look at -his visitor's face, he said: - -"What's the matter? Something on your mind?" - -Luther removed his hat and coat and lit a cigarette before answering. - -"Well, I should say there was. Have you any objections to being a -millionaire?" - -"Not especially. Got the cash with you?" - -"Not this morning. But I've got the next thing to it." - -If Katz felt any excitement at this announcement he concealed it. -Perhaps he knew Luther too well. With a smile, and a slight movement of -the shoulders, he said: - -"Of course it's a dead sure thing." - -"It is." - -"Well, that's something." - -"You know, Katzy, the only sure things in this world are death and -taxes." - -"Yes. So I've heard." - -"Well, compared with this thing of mine, taxes are dreams and death -never happens. Listen. I can place in your hands a contrivance -hardly bigger than a dinner plate that generates electricity without -machinery; that has infinite power; that can drag railway trains of any -size at any speed and can drive an ocean steamer. It weighs about five -pounds and costs nothing to run." - -Katz slowly moved his head, and frowned. - -"It's a bad habit, Luther." - -"What's a bad habit?" - -"Cocktails in the morning. You are seeing miracles." - -Luther protested. Then he explained The Thing in detail. Katz -pronounced it impossible. - -"Of course it's impossible!" said Luther. "That's why it's so devilish -good. It does the impossible all day long and all night, too. Why, -Katz, it can do anything you ask it--and with no expense. God Almighty -supplies the electricity--all you want and for nothing. Can you beat -it?" - -The electrician began to show interest. - -"But are you pop sure it can do these things? Have you seen it work -yourself?" - -Then to I. Katz, with the bright eyes and muddy complexion, Luther told -of the wonders he had seen with his own eyes--touched with his own -hands. He described the two soup plates of metal fastened together, -with the mysterious space between--the small chamber which held the -Miracle of Science. And its priceless secret to be theirs! To give some -idea of the power of these two plates he told Katz what happened to -Delos King and his load of hay. Delos King's big load of hay got stuck -in the meadow. The wheels had sunk in the mud up to the hubs. Two yokes -of oxen tried in vain to stir it. Then Cyrus Alton, carrying The Thing -in his hand went down to the meadow, fastened what Delos King thought -were two kitchen plates to the end of the pole, turned the button a -fraction of an inch and drew the big load of hay out of the bog and up -the hill as if it had been a baby carriage! - -Moreover, Luther described to Katz his own experience with this device. -When fastened to his chest with straps, that went over his shoulder and -under his arms, he had turned the little button and had been lifted -gently from the floor and he floated at will near the roof of the old -barn. - -"But what flabbergasted the old hard heads more than any other one -thing," continued Luther, "was the way Cyrus fixed the weather vane on -the Baptist Church. It had been struck by lightning--bent and twisted. -It's a tall spire and the deacons were trying to figure the cheapest -way of getting up there without a scaffolding, when Cyrus happened -along. 'What's it going to cost you?' he asked. 'Twenty-five dollars -at least,' they said. 'Give me twenty-five,' said Cyrus, 'and I'll do -it before night.' 'It'll take you half a day to get up there either by -rope or scaffolding,' they said. 'I can get up there in one minute,' -said Cyrus, 'after I once start.' At first they laughed, but they -agreed to pay twenty-five dollars. Then Cyrus went home--this was in -the forenoon--came back with his two soup plates; also a hammer, a -monkey wrench and a few other tools. And right there in front of the -crowd, he slung the bag of tools across his shoulders, strapped on the -soup plates, turned a button and rose up in the air like a wingless -angel. Gee! I tell you the deacons stared! Their eyes were wider open -than their mouths!" - -"No wonder!" said Katz. "They had reason to be! And did he fix the -vane?" - -"Well, rather! It didn't take him an hour." - -Luther told of other doings that had startled Longfields; of the -metal contrivance over ten feet long that resembled a fat cigar; -how Cyrus Alton sat inside and, without apparent machinery, rose up -through an opening in the barn and sailed at will, in any direction -and to any altitude. In one evening he had sailed over the whole of -Massachusetts--and more, too. - -Then I. Katz, whose bright black eyes had grown brighter and brighter, -asked many questions. All his questions were answered promptly, and so -clearly as to leave no doubt that the tale was true. - -"But how can you get hold of the miracle?" he asked. "What's your -scheme?" - -Then the artful Yankee unfolded to the still more artful Asiatic his -plan--a plan so simple that even the artful Asiatic began to feel -prosperous. Some pleasant morning and very soon, while talking with -Cyrus, Luther would buckle on the little machine, as if to sail about -the barn. Cyrus would probably consent, as on two previous occasions. -Then he, Luther, would turn the button too far, as if by accident, -pretend to lose control of the machine, and sail up through the big -skylight of the barn, which was always open in pleasant weather. He -would wriggle his elbows as if trying to regain control of The Thing. -Once up in the air, above the roof of the barn, he would steer in the -direction of a certain pond, two miles away, all the time working his -hands and elbows as if trying to get back to earth. - -"Are you sure you can do it?" said Katz. "You might really lose control -if you didn't keep your head." - -Luther smiled. "Oh, I can do it all right! I have no idea of steering -for heaven before my time. You see I've already done it, and I guess I -did it about as well as Alton himself. It's really as easy as driving a -Ford--and lots more fun. Why, Pussy, it's like being a bird!" - -Katz nodded. "Yes, it sounds good. But where will you go when you once -get up?" - -"To the big pond, three miles off. It's always a deserted -place--especially forenoons. I shall land in a little cove I know, -unstrap the machine and hide it in the woods there. Then I shall wade -comfortably into the shallow water and lie down for a minute,--with my -clothes on." - -I. Katz's eyebrows went up. "I see; I see! Bright idea! The machine -carried you into water and you had to swim ashore." - -"Even so." - -"And you lost the machine, which is somewhere in the mud at the bottom -of the pond." - -"Yep." - -"And you'll hurry back to your friend while still wet, so he'll know -that what you say is true!" - -"You've got it. And that afternoon I'll bring the invention to your -shop." - -I. Katz, of the muddy complexion, stroked his Oriental nose and nodded -approval. His comprehending eyes lingered for an instant on Luther's -face with a look that indicated admiration and a friendly feeling. -But the unflattering thoughts it covered were not divined by the New -Englander. - - * * * * * - -It was decreed by incorruptible Fate that Luther's opportunity should -come the very next morning. - -Cyrus was at work in the barn. Dr. Alton, sitting just outside the door -in the shade of the building, was reading a war article in a French -journal that some one had sent him from Europe. Luther moved idly -about, as if to pass the time. At a moment when he saw Cyrus especially -absorbed in his work--inside the big iron cigar--he took up The Thing -and adjusted the straps about his shoulders. - -"I am going to float around the barn," he said, "and see how the roof -looks." - -"All right," said Cyrus, keeping on with his work and not turning his -head. - -To avoid all risk of hitting the sides of the skylight--for he must -rise with apparently unexpected suddenness--he stepped outside the -building. With a smile and a nod he said to Dr. Alton: - -"If you never saw a real angel, Doctor, here's your chance." - -As he put his fingers to the button Cyrus came running out. "Stop! Hold -on Luther! Let go! That's not adjusted!" - -But Luther was not to be thwarted at the high tide of victory--with -riches within reach. He put his fingers to the button and said, with a -smile: - -"Oh, I know how it----" - -The sentence was never finished. He had given the slightest turn, -having a sensible fear of the unknown force within. In his haste he -must have turned it a fraction more than he intended. For then happened -the unprecedented thing--the thing without parallel in human life; so -awful, so solemn, so unearthly, that the two men who saw it stood dumb -in horror. - -As he was speaking, with the smile on his lips, he was lifted from the -earth by the straps beneath his arms with a violence that stopped his -speech--and his breathing. Up he shot, more like a cannon ball than -a rocket. So fast he went, gaining speed with every second, growing -smaller and fainter to the two spectators, until--and it all happened -in the shortest minute--he disappeared, a tiny speck in the blue sky -above. - -He had no chance to change his speed. - -His straw hat, with its crimson band,--like a frivolous friend too -light of heart for sudden tragedy--came tumbling earthward, then -floated off to the west in playful, easy spirals. A gay farewell to a -lifeless body. For death had been instantaneous. - -[Illustration: "--AND GLIDE FOREVER, A HOMELESS VAGRANT THROUGH THE -DUSKY VOID"--_Page 171_] - -Dr. Alton and Cyrus stood looking upward--at the spot in the heavens -where Luther had disappeared from earthly vision. It was hard to -believe what their eyes had seen. And when, in silent horror, they -looked into each other's faces, both knew that this sudden traveler had -started on a darker and a longer voyage than any previous explorer; -that he was moving at a speed unknown to other mortals, and that his -journey would never end. Both knew that within the hour he would be -beyond the orbit of the earth; that the power propelling him felt no -exhaustion. Unless colliding with other celestial derelicts, or drawn -into the path of some distant planet--Neptune or Uranus--he would push -further out into the Infinite. Then, would he join some starry host, -off toward the Milky Way, the Southern Cross or Orion's Belt, and glide -forever, a homeless vagrant through the dusky void? - -His youthful features, untouched by decaying moisture in the icy gloom, -might remain, through the countless ages as his friends last saw him, -long after his native earth--like its own moon--had become a lifeless -ball. Or, beyond the visible stars, far out into bottomless Space,--too -far ever to return--is he to wander through the uncharted regions of -yet remoter worlds? - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -XI - -UNSIGHT UNSEEN - - -"After midnight, Uncle George, and miles from anywhere, so do please -hurry." - -These were parting words to an uncle as he started back to the nearest -house--perhaps a quarter of a mile away--to get gasoline for his motor. - -Alone in the car, the waiting woman began to realize the extraordinary -darkness that enveloped her. Along the road, in front, the two head -lights sent their beams of light. But elsewhere, on either side, behind -her and above, the black air seemed almost threatening in its silence. -So solemn was this silence that she began to imagine herself the only -living creature in England. Her own home was in another country, and -the invisible scenery on either side was all a mystery. It might be -open fields or densest forest--or both. But the damp air that came -slowly against her face seemed laden with odors of yet darker places, -of deep ravines or sunless caves. - -Was this hideous gloom a regular habit with English nights? Being -in a foreign land this darkness was, perhaps, more terrifying than -darkness in a more familiar country. In the heavens above were no signs -of light, either of light that had been or of light to come. And it -seemed, in this tomb-like silence, as if the very universe were dead: -as if she had drifted into space--the infinite space of her astronomy. -From this sable silence she sought relief in watching a portion of the -road that lay before her, now illumined by the two lanterns of the car. -These beams of light seemed a cheerful, human bond between life and -death. - -From the gloom, on her right, came the hopeless hoot of an owl. It -seemed a voice from the sepulcher--a summons to despair. - -A hundred feet, or more, in front of her, where the farthest rays of -this light began to lose themselves and mingle with the darkness, she -saw a rabbit jump into the road, and speed across it. She wondered what -had frightened him. Also, she was inclined to blame him for not being -safe at home with his family instead of roaming about the world on such -an evil night. To a woman yearning for a sign of life 'twas a welcome -sight; but this rabbit, although a thing of life, was as noiseless and -unreal as the ghostly world about him. With his half dozen silent leaps -through the bar of light he seemed a phantom creature, "of such stuff -as dreams are made of." - -From his nervous haste she judged that he was frightened. It was -possible, of course, that he was a fearless rabbit and merely taking -exercise for his health. But this theory was not accepted, and she -watched with interest to see what sort of a pursuer, if any, might -appear. Being in that state of mind when almost any imaginings might -come true, she would not have been surprised had the pursuer been a -real phantom. - -But these speculations became less trifling, of a sudden, and were -transferred to quite a more serious object. From the same place, in the -same ghostly manner, but more slowly than his predecessor, stepped the -figure of a man. Shading his eyes with a hand, he stood for a moment in -the stream of light as if taking his bearings, or dazed by the glare -of the lanterns. Then he scraped, with his foot, a line in the road at -right angles to it, piling up a little mound of earth. The witness, in -the car, supposed he was marking for future guidance the spot at which -he entered from the blacker world. At last, and always with a hand -before his eyes, he came toward the blinding headlights. The invisible -spectator had straightened up and her dreaming eyes had opened wider. -For the figure was a strange one. On its head was a curious cap, which -seemed to be of leather. There were pieces at the ears standing up like -wings, as on some ancient helmets she had seen in pictures. The rest of -his attire also resembled leather, with high leggings reaching above -his knees. Around his waist a wide metallic band, something wider and -more important than a simple belt, glistened as he moved. The girl, -in alarm, stood up, looked back and listened for the absent uncle. She -heard nothing, and could see nothing. She sat down again, and waited. - -The man, of medium height and slender figure, appeared to move -unsteadily, as if weak, or dizzy. He walked slowly, and stopped, once -or twice, as if to balance himself on unreliable legs. The unseen -spectator thought he might be ill, or injured in some way. When, at -last, he passed from the glare of the headlights and came into the -darkness, beside the car, she could discern him, dimly--or rather felt -his presence--as he stood there. And she knew that he was trying, and -probably in vain, to form some idea of the seated figure before him. At -last he spoke. - -"Can you tell me, sir, where this is; what place?" - -With these words the girl's fears departed. For, not only were they -uttered in a gentle, well modulated tone, but the voice itself had a -pleasing quality. - -"I don't know, sir. But my uncle will be here in a moment. He can tell -you." - -She could see that he took a step backward, and stood further away. - -"I beg your pardon, madam. One can't see much in this light. Could you -tell me what--er--what state this is?" - -"What state?" - -"Yes--if you please." - -This was a yet harder question. Did he mean some administrative -division of the country which she had never learned. Being unfamiliar -with English political geography, she answered simply. - -"I don't know." - -This time it was the questioner who was surprised. But, even more -gently than before, he inquired: - -"You don't know what state we are in?" - -"No, sir." - -There was a short silence. - -"Could you tell me," he inquired, always deferentially, "the name of -the nearest town?" - -"Droitwich. I think we are in it now." - -"Droitwich?" - -"Yes, Droitwich." - -He repeated the name as if hearing it for the first time. - -"It must be a small place," he said. - -"I think it is." - -"What is the nearest town of importance;--the nearest city?" - -"Worcester." - -"Oh, Worcester! Thank you. I know Worcester. But I never heard of that -other place,--this place,--Droitwich. How far are we from Worcester?" - -"About six miles, I think--six or seven." - -"Oh, really!" He seemed relieved. There was happy surprise in his tone. -"Thank you. I am very much obliged. Good night." - -He walked away, out into the stream of light. Slowly he walked, -carefully and with uncertain steps. A few yards away, however, he -stopped, hesitated, then turned, came back and again stood beside her. - -"I beg your pardon for being so persistent, but may I ask you one more -question, even more foolish than the others? This city of Worcester is -in the State of Massachusetts, is it not?" - -"In the state of Massachusetts?" - -"Yes--that Worcester is the one you mean, is it not?" - -Now if this conversation had occurred in the United States the girl -might have answered wisely, for she was more familiar with that country -and knew something of its geography. But when such wide-of-the-mark -questions were propounded in the heart of England they brought -bewilderment. Moreover, they indicated an unbelievable ignorance or a -wandering mind--or impertinence. - -Her frown, although invisible in the darkness, seemed to reach the -traveler. - -"I beg your pardon, but I really have no idea where I am. Would you -mind just telling me what part of the country we are in? Are we in -Massachusetts?" - -His manner was earnest. The sincerity of his tone again inspired -confidence--and awakened her sympathy. "I don't quite know how to tell -you, but we are very far from Massachusetts." - -"Then what state _is_ this?" - -"I don't know just what you mean by state. The only state of -Massachusetts I ever heard of is in America." - -"Isn't this America?" - -This question so far transcended, in foolishness, all its predecessors -that her fears returned. She made no reply. What traveler, in his -senses, could be so far astray? Was he a wandering lunatic escaped from -his keepers, preferring darkness to light? Or was he merely amusing -himself at her expense? As she recalled the lateness of the hour, and -his strange appearance on the scene, her fears once more returned. Her -impulse was to stand up, turn about and see if her uncle was in sight. -But she dared not stir. Such action might offend him. For lunatics are -often sensitive, and easily enraged. The figure in the gloom, however, -came no nearer, but remained at a proper distance. When next he spoke -it was slowly, and yet more earnestly. And the girl knew from his -manner as well as from his words that he suspected the impression he -was making. - -"I don't blame you, madam, for whatever thoughts you may have. I have -traveled so fast and so far that I am really dazed. But if you will -kindly tell me where we are, in what country, state, province or -territory,--anything--it will be doing me a great service." - -In a constrained voice, and in a tone which made it reasonably clear -that this conversation was affording her little pleasure, she replied: - -"We are near the city of Worcester, in England." - -For a moment he stood in silence. Then, with a certain weariness in -his voice, "Thank you. I hope you will pardon my disturbing you." - -"Certainly." - -Again he moved away. - -This man's voice stirred memories. But these memories--of some far-away -past--were dim and elusive. Vainly she tried to recall either when or -where she had known the voice. Just as he was turning from the bar of -light to disappear into the outer gloom, there came to her a gleam of -memory from the distant past. Quickly she stood up in the car, her -lips parted to call aloud. But she hesitated. A mistake, under present -conditions, might prove more than awkward. So she uttered no sound. -The stranger, however, as if responding to the unuttered words--to -the thought itself--turned about and came toward the car. He walked -quickly, but with the same unsteadiness as when he first appeared; and -always with a hand before his eyes to shut out the blinding glare of -the headlight. When alongside the car, again invisible in the darkness, -he said: - -"Yes, I am Drowsy. Who calls me?" - -She was startled as she realized, in a kind of terror, that the -unspoken message must have reached him. However, she answered, simply: - -"Ruth Heywood." - -With an exclamation of surprise and joy he opened the door, climbed in -and seated himself beside her. - -"Oh, this is too good!" - -In the darkness he groped about and they managed to shake hands. - -"Why, Ruth, this is hard to believe!" - -It was, indeed! Many questions were asked, and answered. And they -talked of earlier days at Longfields, of Longfields people, of what -sort of men and women their playmates had become. More than all else, -they talked of their old friendship and their various adventures -together. And both laughed in recalling how Ruth in that distant period -was mother, sister, aunt, governess and best girl to Cyrus. This -revival of the old intimacy had reached a stage where the enshrouding -darkness was almost forgotten. - -"But tell me, Drowsy," she demanded, "how came you here and why did you -ask all those crazy questions? I should be sorry to think you had been -dining too well." - -"Dining too well! No, my wabbly course just now was owing, partly, to -not having dined at all:--and with neither lunch nor breakfast either." - -"You poor thing! Then why pretend you didn't know you were in England?" - -"There was no pretending. I really didn't know until you told me." - -"Indeed! And where did you think yourself? In Australia?" - -"I had no idea. If you had told me I was in Australia I should have -believed you. I have been traveling so high above the earth that the -upper ether went to my head--and legs." - -[Illustration: "----FAR AND FAST, EVEN FOR A BIRD MAN"--_Page 181_] - -"You must have been fast and far, even for a bird man, if you didn't -know on which side of the ocean you had landed." - -There was a silence:--a silence of doubt and of budding suspicion in -the woman's mind. - -"Listen, Ruth. I _have_ been far and fast, even for a bird man. I will -tell you all about it later, if you don't mind. If I told you now, you -would think me crazier, if possible, than when I asked those questions. -And I shouldn't blame you. My story would seem as fantastic as if I -had been around the world in a night, or to another planet. What I -have done--where I have been is--is--so impossible that you would -be a very credulous person to believe it. But later I will tell you -all--everything--please consider me in my right mind." - -"In your right mind! Why, Drowsy, you were never in your right mind! -So I should believe anything you told me--unless it was something easy -or natural, like other people. You were always doing impossible things -and thinking impossible thoughts--a most disturbing boy. I remember I -always felt responsible for you. You wanted the moon--even then." - -"And now, a full-fledged lunatic, I have just come from the moon!" - -"I have no doubt you think so. And you were always reaching up to pick -a star. Yes, you _were_ a trial." - -Cyrus laughed. "Will you do me a favor?" - -"Depends on what it is." - -"Just a little one?" - -"Probably not. But what is it?" - -"You remember our wedding at the Unitarian Church, away back in that -enchanted past?" - -"Yes." - -"Well, just consider that ceremony binding." - -"Now you are getting crazy again." - -"No, I was never saner." - -"Very likely, but you are crazy now. Why, Drowsy, being only a man, you -don't realize how lucky we are that it was not binding!" - -"Lucky for you, perhaps," said Cyrus, "but not for me. I am sure you -are even more desirable, more beautiful, more generally perfect and -irresistible--if possible--than you were then." - -"On the contrary. If you could see me by daylight you would shout for -joy at your escape." - -"No, Ruth, you can't fool me that way. Are you little or big?" - -He groped about and laid a hand on her shoulder. "I should say you were -little." - -She pushed away the hand. "Keep your hands to yourself, Cyrus. You -forget we are no longer children." - -Cyrus obeyed. "True enough. But we were really married, you know. -Surely a husband may touch his wife's shoulder. Tell me, have you the -same wonder-working eyes and mouth and haughty bearing? You are not a -great big woman, I have discovered that." - -"No, I am neither big nor lovely. I am little and dried up--and -wrinkled, like a baked apple--and surprisingly ugly." - -"Dried up at your age? May I touch your face just a little?" - -"You may not!" - -"Oh, well, it doesn't matter. There's charm in baked apples. There's -character in a dried-up face." - -"But that was only the beginning. As I dried and shriveled, my hair -fell out." - -"Good! I love a bald head--especially in a woman. There's no -distinction in hair. All animals have it. In that delectable period -of sudden marriages, I remember some things clearly, as if yesterday. -I recall distinctly the eyes of my bride. No man could forget them. -In their fathomless depths even a boy could lose himself. And, oh, so -beautiful! One such eye would transform a dried apple face into a thing -of joy. And in that bride's face were two of them. Don't tell me they, -also, are gone." - -"Only one." - -"Too bad! Have you lost any limbs?" - -"Not yet." - -"And your teeth are gone?" - -"Oh, long, long ago." - -There was a silence. So black was the enveloping darkness that the -silence itself seemed heavy, as if forbidding conversation. - -At last Cyrus spoke. "So far as I can learn, your face is like a baked -apple, your teeth and one eye are gone, and you have no hair. But I'll -take you as you are." - -Ruth laughed. "Why, Cyrus! That's practically an offer of marriage! -You appear even wilder and more reckless than when you were trying to -discover whether you were in England or Massachusetts." - -"On the contrary, I am wiser than you think. I was in love with you in -Longfields--and I am finding now that neither time nor absence have -changed that feeling. What's a tooth, an eye, or a few hairs more or -less to an honest lover?" - -"Honest humbug! You forget how well I knew you. You had no respect for -truth." - -"Yes, but only as a child. I am telling the truth now, on my honor. -Let's not separate again. Why, it's beginning a new life! Come. Let's -go back to the Unitarian Church and be married just once more. Only -once more; that's all I ask." - -"Indeed I shall not! I am not buying a pig in a poke. When daylight -came and I really saw you I might be sick with horror." - -"No, no! I'm not so bad as that! In fact I look about as I did when a -boy, only--more beautiful." - -"Then you are a funny looking man, Drowsy, with your sleepy eyes and -your little buttoned-up mouth." - -Cyrus laughed. "No, I swear I'm not funny looking. I have the same -eyes, but my mouth is three times as long. It's one of the largest and -most admired mouths in Massachusetts. But why these questions? You saw -me a few minutes ago when I came along. The glare of those headlights -ought to illuminate any kind of a face." - -"You held your hand before your face to shade your eyes." - -"So I did. But, seriously, Ruthy, I realize now that all my old feeling -for you has never died. Your voice alone revives the memories of those -pleasant years. Why part again? It might be forever." - -"A thousand reasons." - -"But no good ones. What better test of my affection could you want? -I don't ask to see your face. Your voice, your words, yourself, and -old-time memories are more than enough. Come. Say yes." - -"No. Never in the world! Suppose, when you could really see me, there -came regrets. What a position for a woman! Oh, no! Never that!" - -"Don't say 'never.'" - -"Is this a habit of yours--making love in the dark to women you don't -know? You should have a guardian." - -"Be that guardian!" - -"Thank you, I have other occupations." - -Here came a silence. The thoughts of Cyrus, whatever they might be, -were interrupted by Ruth: - -"You must think me a most adaptable woman, Cyrus, to fall in love, at a -minute's notice, with a voice and a memory." - -"If you are a toothless, hairless, wrinkled, one-eyed hag you ought to -be grateful." - -"A toothless hag, even with no pride--may have a little caution." - -"Anyway," said Cyrus, and he spoke more seriously--and with more -decision--"I am in earnest. I may be talking like a fool--I don't know -how to express myself. Meeting you again is like a new life. As a -little girl, Ruthy, you were everything to me. You don't know what a -difference, what a void it made when you vanished and left me adrift. -Now that we are again together, and I am older, I realize what I lost. -After you left Longfields--and your leaving was awfully sudden, if -you remember--not even a chance to say good-by--I used to sit on your -doorstep and try to think you would come out." - -"Is that true?" - -"On my honor. And one moonlight night when father and Joanna thought I -was in bed I stood at my window and tried to get a message to you, in -the old way--hoping a thought would reach you. Then I stole out of the -house, ran to yours and threw little stones against the closed shutters -of your empty chamber. Of course no answer came. But I waited and -waited. The moonlight seemed to encourage me. And when I had waited in -vain--a very long time,--it seemed a year--I pretended you came to the -window and we had a long talk." - -She laughed. "And what did I say?" - -"You said just what I wanted you to say: the nicest things; the things -I was yearning for. Quite different from what you are saying to-night." - -"If you thought of me so much, why didn't you write to me?" - -"I did. I wrote twice." - -"I never got them." - -"I will tell you why you never got them if you will promise not to -laugh." - -"I promise." - -"They were directed simply to Miss Ruth Heywood, China. And China, I -have learned since, is a larger place than Longfields." - -"Oh, you poor boy!" - -"And when I was a freshman at Cambridge, I tried hard to fall in love -with a girl because she reminded me of you." - -Ruth was silent. Cyrus went on. "When you first spoke here, a few -minutes ago, your voice affected me in a way--in a way I can't -describe. It seemed to open vistas of memory, as in a fairy tale. And -the instant I realized that we were again together--why--it all came -back with a rush--as of sunshine--like a wave, or a flood of unexpected -happiness--and hope." - -"Oh, Drowsy, what charming nonsense!" - -"Yes--it is nonsense, if that kind of love is nonsense--the kind that -begins in boyhood and never dies--that holds to one woman and will have -no other." - -He felt a hand on his arm. In her voice came a gentler note. "Listen, -Drowsy. My uncle and I are on our way to a train. I am starting for -Italy. When I know my permanent address I will--perhaps--see that you -get it--indirectly, but not from me. Then, without committing either -of us, if you are still as blind, as reckless and perverse as you are -to-night, you can----" - -"Still alive, Ruth?" - -The voice came from the darkness and was close behind them. - -Cyrus was presented as an old friend. He assisted the uncle in pouring -the gasoline into the tank. The uncle was in haste to get away, still -hoping to catch a train. There were a few words of parting before the -motor with its two occupants slid away into the darkness. - -This parting, to Cyrus, seemed even more sudden than the old one, long -years ago. - -For many minutes he stood looking in their direction. The night was -black, and he saw nothing. But in his heart was a rosy dawn. - -Incidentally, but of far less importance, he knew on what portion of -the earth he had landed. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -XII - -"INCREDIBLE!" - - -A prosperous, self-reliant man, well built, well dressed and well -pleased with himself, sat at a desk in his private office. It was the -senior partner of the firm--a well known firm of Fifth Avenue jewelers. -Being a wise man, he was wise enough to enjoy a reasonable pride in -his own wisdom; also in his own pleasing personality, and in his own -good face and figure. Now, sixty years of age, he had, moreover, -enjoyed a quarter century of success--the reward, perhaps, of his own -foresight in being the son of a prosperous father. He had inherited a -well established business. As a leading member of a fashionable church -he was grateful to himself, and to his Creator, for these, his many -blessings. - -Another well-dressed man--but younger than himself--entered abruptly -and stood beside his desk. The Senior Partner looked up from his work, -nodded, and smiled. - -"Good morning, William." - -"Good morning, Uncle Fred." - -William was dapper, even more up-to-date in appearance than his uncle. -Although more carefully attired, he was not so well dressed. For -William's hair was so very smooth, and all that pertained to him so -aggressively fresh and clean, his clothes so faultlessly in fit, his -cravat, his scarf pin, his hair and his eyes such a pleasing harmony -in shade and color as to divert the beholder's attention from his -sensible face. In appearance William was unjust to himself, giving the -impression, to strangers, of a vain or frivolous person. He was, on the -contrary, a very intelligent man. Also, he was good. At the present -moment there were signs of suppressed excitement in this cleanest of -clean faces. - -"Well," said the Senior Partner, "out with it." - -"You remember Cyrus Alton, don't you, Uncle Fred?" - -"No." - -"Well, you met him some years ago. It was he who saved me from breaking -my neck in the amateur circus at school." - -"Oh! And he has regretted it ever since?" - -William smiled. "No, sir. I hope not. But it was a mighty plucky thing -to do. I fell from the trapeze and he was on the ground beneath. When -he saw me coming, instead of jumping from under, like a sensible boy, -he held out his arm to break the fall. It threw his shoulder out of -joint, but saved me a broken neck--so we all thought." - -"Yes, I remember now. It _was_ a plucky thing. It showed courage and -presence of mind. How old was he?" - -"About my age: twelve, I guess, or thirteen." - -"He certainly played the hero on that day. Has he lived up to it?" - -"I don't know. I have hardly seen him since we left school. I always -liked him. We were great cronies--always together." - -"Mighty lucky you were together on that occasion. What's his -occupation, now?" - -"Oh, chemistry and electricity. Science generally, I guess. But I don't -think the world has been treating him well. His clothes are kind of -ancient, and he looks hard up. He lives up in Massachusetts, in some -little town or village. It's a dozen years since I have seen him, until -he came in, a few minutes ago, with a curious kind of stone. He doesn't -know what it is, and wants to find out. Wants us to tell him. It's -beyond me, though. Would you mind seeing him just a minute, and looking -at it?" - -"A stone, did you say?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"What kind of a stone?" - -"That's just what he doesn't know, nor I either." - -"All right, show him in." - -To the hero of the amateur circus came a cordial greeting from the -Senior Partner, who alluded in a most friendly manner to that historic -occasion. But were he not familiar with the story he would have found -difficulty in recognizing the present visitor as the hero of such a -day. For that was a deed requiring--to say nothing of courage--quick -decision, quick action and that perfect confidence in physical strength -which we attribute to the trained athlete. These wide-awake qualities -were not suggested in any degree by the slow moving, sleepy eyed -young man of slender figure to whom Hurry seemed a stranger. This -man was a dreamer. But the Senior Partner had perhaps forgotten that -the brightest pages of human history have been furnished by dreamers -stirred to action. Moreover, it was clearly evident that this young man -and Prosperity were not on friendly terms. And the dark color beneath -his eyes seemed to indicate loss of sleep or nervous strain. Now the -Senior Partner had never been in love with Poverty. He had the same -sort of sympathy for it that Virtue has for Vice; or that Cleanliness -has for Dirt. But he was determined, on William's account, to treat his -old friend with proper consideration. - -After a short conversation, retrospective and educational, the visitor -laid in the hand of the Senior Partner what appeared to be a large -glass door-knob. It was octagonal in shape with a convex top, and was -broken at the stem. The color was a pale, apple green. The Senior -Partner adjusted his glasses and politely examined it. He examined it -with the same tactful consideration he would show to any well meaning -person who believes his imitation pearl a priceless gem. This case, -however, was certainly unusual. The man who could hand you a very large -glass door knob and ask your opinion on it, as an expert in gems, -required special treatment. And when the Senior Partner studied the -visitor's face for some outward indications of the amazing credulity -within, he searched in vain. Instead of the eager eyes and parted lips -of a touch-and-go enthusiast hoping for sudden wealth, he encountered a -firm, though boyish mouth, and two calm, dark, almost drowsy eyes that -met his own with a tranquil sanity, having no relation, apparently, to -their owner's misguided errand. However, the Senior Partner knew from -experience that exteriors were deceptive. - -While hesitating for words that might reveal, in the gentlest manner, -the fact that the object was worthless, his nephew spoke, and in a tone -of eager curiosity. - -"What is it, Uncle Fred? What can it be?" - -"That's hard to say. It is rather large for a door knob, or the stopper -of any human decanter. It might be the pendant of a chandelier." - -"I mean what is it made of? What is the material?" - -"You mean what kind of glass?" - -"Yes, sir; if it--if it _is_ glass." - -"Then you think it is not glass?" - -"That's what we want to find out." - -This uncle was not misled by his nephew's earnestness. He knew William, -and he knew him to be a ready believer in interesting things; one -who could pin his faith on whatever he really wished to believe. And -the uncle had learned that this capacity, combined with a lively -imagination, became a perilous guide in matters of business. However, -he held the object higher, between his eyes and the window. - -"You think it might be rock crystal?" Then, turning to the visitor, -"What is your own opinion, Mr. Alton?" - -"Oh, I have no opinion; only hopes." - -"And what are your hopes?" - -Now Cyrus Alton had easily divined the Senior Partner's thoughts. "Hope -is so inexpensive," he answered, "that I have been indulging in the -brightest kind. But if I am flying too high I can easily come to earth -again. Is it nothing but glass, after all?" - -"Oh, I don't say that." - -But the Senior Partner still marveled that any educated person should -prove so gullible as to be deceived by this object in his hand. He -looked again, and more carefully, at the visitor's face. This time -the boyish mouth seemed to indicate nothing but inexperience. The -heavy lidded eyes, however, calmly returned the searching gaze, as if -they themselves were searching;--yet in a sleepy way, it seemed to -the Senior Partner. And the Senior Partner was strengthened in his -conviction that a man with those eyes and with such a mouth could -believe almost anything. Yet he liked the young man's face. His voice -was pleasant, and his manner of speech, while punctiliously polite and -considerate of others, indicated decision and self-reliance. - -"But, Uncle Fred," said William, "it is so heavy for its size. And it's -cold, like a diamond. And it has that oily feeling on the polished -face. It surely is not an artificial stone." - -"No, possibly not. But the color, this pale, apple green, while an -exquisite tint, is not usual in diamonds." - -"But the famous 'Dresden' is that color, isn't it?" - -"Yes, I believe so; but the famous 'Dresden' is smaller than a paving -stone. This object, as you see, if a natural stone, must have been -nearly twice its present dimensions before cutting. And even now it is -fully twice the size of any diamond of which we have ever heard. You -young gentlemen will admit that it must be the house of an exceedingly -prosperous person where bulky door knobs were composed of single -diamonds." - -Nephew William frowned and drummed with his fingers on the top of the -desk. - -"And I doubt," continued the Senior Partner with his pleasant smile, -"if there are many mines that yield jewels the size of ostrich eggs." - -Cyrus Alton's eyes, in a dreamy way, were fixed upon the stone. -"Couldn't this have come from some other planet?" - -"Possibly, as a meteorite. But precious stones have not the habit of -coming from that direction. However, nothing concerning astronomy can -surprise us. Might I ask where you found it, Mr. Alton?" - -Mr. Alton hesitated. As he drew a hand across his forehead the -Senior Partner and his nephew noticed a hole in the faded and shiny -coat sleeve; also that the linen cuff with its frayed edges had no -fastenings. William's silent guess was correct. "The poor chap has had -to sell his cuff buttons." - -"If you don't mind, sir, I would rather not answer that question just -at present." - -"Certainly. Of course not! Excuse my asking." - -"I am the one to apologize, sir. It is a most natural question, and I -will answer it later." - -"Of course, Mr. Alton, you understand my asking that question. The -answer might give us light that would solve the riddle. If, for -instance, you found it among broken fragments in a glass factory, we -might be prejudiced regarding its ancestry." - -"No. It was many miles from any factory." - -"On the other hand, if unearthed in a diamond mine, or discovered on -the forehead of a Hindoo god it's claim to distinction would be more -clearly defined." - -"Yes, I suppose so. But I thought an expert might judge the value of a -stone without knowing its history." - -"Certainly, certainly. But sometimes a ray of light on a doubtful -subject facilitates a decision. If this majestic door knob, fragment -of a balustrade, pendant to a chandelier, or whatever its original -purpose--if this object is a diamond, Mr. Alton, it means a fortune to -its owner. And I sincerely wish it were a diamond." - -"But you know it isn't?" - -"I don't say that; but no lapidary would ever cut a diamond as this is -cut." Then, with a friendly smile as he handed it back to its owner, -"If William here, or anybody else should offer you real money for -it----" - -"You advise me to take it." - -The Senior Partner smiled and nodded. Cyrus Alton rose. "I thank you -sincerely, sir, for this interview and for your opinion on my bogus -gem." The Senior Partner also rose, and in shaking hands laid his other -hand on the visitor's shoulder. "It may console you, Mr. Alton, to -know that you are not the first person--nor the hundredth, for that -matter--to be undeceived here in this office. The brightest hopes, -especially with would-be pearls and diamonds, often vanish even more -swiftly than they come." - -While the smiling, leisurely mouth of Cyrus was getting ready to reply, -a door opened, and a man entered. It was a short, stout man with fierce -black eyebrows, black eyes and a heavy black beard, all in striking -contrast to the whitest and baldest of heads. - -"Ah, Mr. Bressani!" exclaimed the Senior Partner. "You are just the -man!" After presenting Mr. Bressani to the visitor he said: "Give us -the truth about this stone. What is it?" And he took the stone from -Cyrus and handed it to the new arrival. - -Now Mr. Bressani was more than an expert. His instinct in the matter -of gems was abnormal. It was something more than instinct. It was a -singular, innate sense; one of those unexplained faculties that enables -its possessor to judge offhand, with certainty and precision, where -others must weigh and reason. In important matters he was sought by -jewelers. And there was no recorded case in which he had been deceived. - -Now, as he held the doubtful object in his fat, white fingers, he -suspected from the smile on the face of the Senior Partner that a joke -was in the air. When he saw what was in his hand--apparently a piece -of greenish glass--he raised his heavy black eyebrows, and, with a -sidelong glance, studied the faces of the three men, one after another, -to make sure they were not laughing at him. Nephew William smiled but -shook his head. "No, we are serious. Tell us what you think." - -Still doubtful, Mr. Bressani held it nearer his eye, turned it over -in his large, baby fingers, moved it slowly up and down, evidently -guessing its weight, and slowly passed a thumb over its surface. -Then, as if surprised, he stepped hastily to the window and held it -between his eyes and the light. Wheeling about, his eyebrows darted -up in surprise. These eyebrows, thick and heavy, flew heavenward so -swiftly and they traveled so far that they seemed to pull upon his big -black eyes to twice their usual size and roundness. These astonished -orbs he rolled toward the three men as if startled by a miracle. They -proclaimed a bewildering, overwhelming astonishment that his half-open -lips could not express. - -[Illustration: "BUT WHO EVER SAW SUCH A DIAMOND?"--_Page 199_] - -"Why, it's a diamond!" - -The Senior Partner rose and moved toward him. "Are you sure?" - -But Mr. Bressani did not reply. Lost in wonder, apparently -unconscious of his surroundings, he turned the object over and over, -in every light, and at every angle. "Extraordinary!" he murmured. -"Extraordinary! It doesn't seem possible." - -"But are you sure?" repeated the Senior Partner. - -"Absolutely." - -"But who ever saw such a diamond?" - -"Nobody! Nobody! It's incredible--miraculous--inconceivable. There -never _was_ such a thing!" - -"Just what I have been saying," from the Senior Partner. "Nobody would -ever cut a diamond in that shape. And look at the size of it! And the -color!" - -"Yes, yes! It's hard to believe!" - -"But you _do_ believe it?" - -The bushy eyebrows went up, then down, with a shrug of shoulders. -"Believe it? I know it! What do _you_ think it is, glass?" - -"Well--er--yes, to be honest. I didn't know what else it could be. No -human being ever saw a diamond of those dimensions." - -"We are seeing it now. But whose is it?" - -"It belongs to Mr. Alton." - -"I congratulate you, Mr. Alton. You possess the most amazing diamond in -history or fiction." - -Cyrus bowed. "Then it is the largest you have ever seen?" - -"Twice over. The famous Cullinan stone, the largest yet discovered, was -about half this size." - -"Let's weigh it," said William. - -The expert placed it on the little scales that stood on the top of -the Senior Partner's desk. The three men waited in silence for the -verdict. After a close scrutiny of the scales Mr. Bressani straightened -up, turned toward the three pairs of eyes--all fixed intently on his -own--and exclaimed: - -"Really--it is hard to believe!" - -"How much?" came, in the same breath, from the Senior Partner and his -nephew. - -"Seventy-one hundred carats!" - -The nephew laughed nervously. "Why--there never was such a diamond!" - -The Senior Partner frowned. "Impossible!" - -Mr. Bressani's hand trembled slightly, as he lifted the stone from -the scales and again held it to the light. "Yes--yes--it does seem -impossible!" - -"But nobody ever saw such a diamond!" was again announced by William. - -"Never!" from Mr. Bressani. - -"How much did the Cullinan weigh?" William asked. - -"About three thousand and thirty carats in the rough--about a pound and -three-quarters. It was cut into three large stones and several smaller -ones. Two of these stones are the largest brilliants in existence." - -"But, are you sure, Bressani," said the Senior Partner, "absolutely -sure that it _is_ a diamond?" - -Mr. Bressani smiled, shrugged his shoulders, and with a gesture of both -hands, palms out, replied, slowly: - -"I am not a rich man, but whatever property I possess, and whatever I -can borrow up to a million dollars I would gladly give to Mr. Alton if -I might own this stone." - -Cyrus Alton's eyes opened wider. "A million dollars?" - -"Easily. You see, it will cut to four or five stones of extraordinary -size, and--unless I am much mistaken--of perfect purity. Also, the -color--this lovely, delicate, apple-green tint is almost unknown. The -only diamond of this color in the world, of any importance, is the -famous Dresden Green, one of the crown jewels of Saxony." - -"Is this much larger," inquired Cyrus, "than that Dresden diamond?" - -"Many times larger." - -"And much larger than any of the famous diamonds?" - -"Yes, indeed! Much, much, very much larger. No comparison, in fact. -Why, Mr. Alton, if this were cut to one stone, half its present -size--as a rough guess--it would be over three thousand carats." - -Nephew William gasped. "Three thousand carats! Why, there's nothing -like it! It would be the most famous stone in the world!" - -"No doubt about that," said Mr. Bressani. - -"How much is the Great Mogul?" asked William. - -"Less than two hundred carats." - -"And the Koh-i-noor?" - -"One hundred and eight." - -"And the Star of the South?" - -"About a hundred and twenty-seven carats." - -"Did you ever see the Hope diamond?" - -"Yes; forty-five carats. Almost circular in shape; sold for eighteen -thousand pounds. But it is believed--at least there is a story--that it -brings bad luck to its owners." - -"It is blue, isn't it?" - -"Yes, blue, and a good color, but not so beautiful nor so rare, as -this shade of green. This is a wonder." And as he spoke he turned -the stone in every light. "It's a marvelous thing. Marvelous! Almost -unbelievable!" - -"Can you tell me," said Cyrus, "about how much it is worth?" - -Mr. Bressani shrugged his shoulders: "Anything." - -"You mean," said the Senior Partner, "it would be impossible to guess, -even approximately, at its value?" - -"Yes. For you know the value of diamonds is speculative--depending on -many conditions; size, shape, purity, color--and how they cut. The -Victoria--one hundred and eighty carats--was sold for four hundred -thousand pounds. But diamonds were rarer then. This, when properly cut -into the right number of stones, would bring more than three million -dollars." - -William, in his enthusiasm, slapped his friend on the back. "Well, old -man, you have struck it rich this time." - -The calm-eyed Cyrus smiled and nodded. - -"Then this diamond of mine," he said, "would be ten times bigger than -the Koh-i-noor or any of those other stones?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Isn't there a famous Sancy diamond?" - -"Oh, yes. But that weighed only fifty-three carats. The Sancy diamond -was famous more from its unusual history than from its size." - -"What was its history, Bressani?" said the Senior Partner. "I never -heard it." - -"Well, it belonged to Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, who was -wearing it in his hat at the battle of Nancy, the day he was killed. A -Swiss soldier found it and sold it to a clergyman for a gulden; about -forty cents. Then it came into possession of Anton, King of Portugal, -who sold it for 100,000 Francs. Soon afterwards it became the property -of a French gentleman named Sancy. A descendant of this Sancy was sent -by Henry III as ambassador to Soluere and the King required the diamond -as a pledge. The servant who was carrying it to the King was attacked -by robbers and murdered, but before dying he swallowed the diamond. -His master, knowing his devotion, had the body opened and found the -diamond in his stomach." - -"And where is it now?" asked Cyrus. - -"It was bought by a Russian nobleman in 1835, for half a million -rubles; about four hundred thousand dollars." - -"Jove!" exclaimed William. "Some difference in price between forty -cents and four hundred thousand dollars!" - -"And how much bigger," asked William, "is this than the Sancy?" - -"That weighed fifty-three carats. This, when cut, would weigh about -three thousand." - -"Jove! Sixty times as much! Would it be worth sixty times four hundred -thousand dollars? That would be about twenty-four million dollars." - -Mr. Bressani smiled and shook his head. "Times were different then--and -to-day there are more diamonds." - -"I suppose many of the famous jewels," said William, "if they could -speak, might tell us stories as surprising as the Sancy's." - -Then Cyrus Alton, in a low voice, addressing nobody in particular, -said: "It would be worth the price of this diamond to know its history." - -The Bressani eyebrows went up--high up--and then far down. And beneath -the frown the fierce eyes looked eagerly toward the speaker. "Has it a -remarkable history, Mr. Alton?" - -Cyrus smiled, slowly and somewhat sadly, and gently shook his head. -"I wish I knew. I would almost give the diamond's price to know its -story--much as I need the money." - -"Do you know nothing of its history?" - -"Nothing. I only know that if we could see what that stone has seen -we should enter a new field of knowledge. It would throw light upon a -world of unknown things, earlier than human history." - -In silence the jewelers regarded the speaker, as if waiting for some -explanation of his words. - -Mr. Bressani's eyebrows had shot up to the highest attitude yet -attained. In a low voice, but in a tone that showed the liveliest -curiosity, he asked, "Just what do you mean, Mr. Alton?" - -"I mean the story of this diamond's country would be a story so -overwhelming, so far beyond us, so complete and final in its stupendous -tragedy that our own human drama would seem a trifling comedy." - -These words were spoken in a calm but earnest manner, and they -impressed the listeners. A silence followed. Then Mr. Bressani asked: -"What _is_ this diamond's country?" - -Cyrus hesitated. He knew that if he told the truth it would appear -incredible to his hearers--like a fairy tale for children: that he -would be regarded either as a fool, to be pitied, or as a willful liar. -While he hesitated the Senior Partner came to his rescue. - -"Mr. Alton has already informed us that he has reasons for not telling -where he found it." - -Mr. Bressani's enthusiasm, however,--and his curiosity--were far too -strong for accepting so easy a defeat. "But what part of the world? He -can tell us that." - -"As a matter of fact," said Cyrus, "I don't know, myself, the name of -that particular country." - -Again the bushy Bressani eyebrows sailed aloft, then dropped and -beetled over the fierce black eyes. "You don't know in what country you -were when you found it--or bought it?" - -"I am not sure that it has a name." - -"A most unusual country!" - -"Yes, it certainly is;--most unusual." - -Nephew William laughed. "And it must be a long way off, Cyrus." - -"It is." - -"And pretty small, if it has no name." - -"No, not so small. But its name was long ago forgotten. There are no -survivors to remember it." - -"But you can tell us," said Mr. Bressani, "whether it is North of here, -or East, or West, or South." - -"Why--er--really, I couldn't tell you even that. Nobody could." - -"Perhaps it's beneath us, or above"; and in the Senior Partner's tone -was a suggestion of irony. - -Cyrus ignored the tone and answered pleasantly: "I am not trying to -deceive, or to mislead you in any way, but it really is a journey in -which points of the compass are no guides whatever." - -On the faces of the three jewelers came three involuntary frowns. - -[Illustration: "A MOST UNUSUAL COUNTRY!"--_Page 206_] - -"You are certainly having fun with us, Cyrus," said William. - -"No, not at all. But, you see, a compass would be useless where there -is no such thing as North and South." - -"No such thing as North and South!" - -"No. Nor East and West. The needle would lose its bearings. It wouldn't -know where to point." - -"Oh, come now! Is that a joke? Are we to laugh at it?" - -Cyrus smiled. "I should not blame you for laughing--but it is not a -joke. I am telling the truth." - -"You mean to say, I suppose, that you had such bad weather--electrical -storms, perhaps,--that the needle couldn't work." - -"No, there was no weather at all." - -"You mean no bad weather?" - -"Nor good weather, either." - -With some impatience William demanded: "Now just what do you mean, -Cyrus?" - -"I mean, that in going and coming, there was no such thing as wind -nor rain, nor sunshine. It was all twilight--a dusk that was almost -darkness. It was a trackless, uncharted voyage. And not a shore to -touch at." - -"Then you crossed an ocean? It was all by sea?" - -"No. There was no sea--no water anywhere." - -This time William made no effort to hide his annoyance. He merely -whistled, and walked away, toward the window. - -"I don't blame you, Billy, for being enraged," and Cyrus also stood up. -"But on my honor, I am telling you the truth. And I am willing to tell -you anything except the exact location. Later on you will understand my -reasons for being so secretive." - -"Perhaps you can tell us," said Mr. Bressani, "in what surroundings you -found it: whether under ground or above." - -"Above. Just lying on the ground." - -"My own guess," said William, "from its being already cut, is that some -oriental chap either gave it to you or sold it." - -"No, I found it, entirely by accident--among some ruins." - -Mr. Bressani's eyebrows again went up. "Ruins of what?" - -"Of an ancient building--a very, very ancient building." - -"But covered with earth, I suppose, and overgrown with vines." - -"No. Not a trace of vegetation anywhere in sight." - -"It must be a melancholy place." - -"It is." - -"But once a city?" - -"I think so." - -"The ruins of Palmyra!" exclaimed Mr. Bressani. "They are now a sandy -waste." - -"No; many thousands of miles from Palmyra." - -"Many thousands of miles! That means a long distance." - -[Illustration: "BUT ONCE A CITY?"--_Page 208_] - -"It _is_ a long distance." - -"Then it can't be any part of Asia, or even India?" - -"No, sir." - -"Africa, perhaps?" - -"No." - -"A South American diamond?" - -"No." - -As Mr. Bressani's ferocious, black eyebrows settled down over his eyes -the Senior Partner laughed. "This reminds me of the game of twenty -questions. And you are surely the victor, Mr. Alton." - -But Mr. Bressani was too much in earnest to think of jokes or games. -"You say these ruins are very old?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"How old? Greek or Roman, perhaps?" - -"Older than human history." - -[Illustration: "OLDER THAN HUMAN HISTORY"--_Page 209_] - -Again the three listeners frowned. With a shade of sarcasm the Senior -Partner addressed his nephew: "Mr. Alton has a poet's fancy." - -Cyrus understood, but his face showed no annoyance. Smilingly he said, -"You will get more digestible answers, perhaps, if you don't ask me -where I found it. The whole adventure is incredible. If I told you the -truth you would not believe me." - -"Try us," said William. - -The Senior Partner waved his hand in apology. "Please don't think we -doubt your word, Mr. Alton. But when you say older than human history -you are speaking figuratively, as it were." - -"No, sir. I am speaking literally. It is the belief of scientists -that millions of years have passed since any changes have occurred in -that--in that--territory." - -"Millions of years!" - -"Yes, sir. It is somewhat a matter of geology. And a geological period, -you know, is still young at a million years." - -The Senior Partner nodded politely. "Yes--very true. But, as diamonds -are found in so few places perhaps you will tell us, just to gratify -a natural curiosity, what kind of a region you have discovered--the -general nature of the country." - -"The nature of the country?" Cyrus Alton repeated. Then, lowering his -eyes, as if better to recall the scene, he hesitated for a moment. -"The nature of the country," he again repeated, and his manner became -serious. "No tree, nor bush, nor blade of grass is there; no living -thing of any kind: no birds--nor air to fly in;--not a drop of water. -The surface of the earth--no, not earth for there is no earth--is -stone--and ashes. 'Tis a cinder--the mummy of a world: an unending -necropolis. Once it was thickly populated. Now it is the Land of Death, -and deader than Death itself. Not even a memory is there, for those who -might remember have been dead uncounted ages. They themselves are long -since forgotten." - -On the faces of his little audience Cyrus saw a mild bewilderment--and -curiosity. - -"You say we have all heard of this country?" asked the Senior Partner. - -"Yes, and you have seen it--from a distance." - -"Are you sure," said William, "that we have all seen it?" - -"Yes, absolutely sure." - -"And we have probably been there?" - -"No--I think not." - -"Then, how could we see it?--from a railway train--or from a steamship?" - -Cyrus smiled. "Yes, you could see it that way--if you wished." - -"But how do you know we have never been there?" - -"I don't." - -"You only think it." - -"Yes, I only think it. You may have been there. I am quite sure, -however, that you have not." - -"But why so sure, Cyrus? You have been there yourself." - -"Yes." - -"And what man has done man can do." - -"Yes, sometimes, but not always, Billy. Only one man has eaten, for -instance, a certain huckleberry. And, as a rule, only one man marries -his own particular girl. You, for instance, have seen the top of -Trinity spire, but you have never been there." - -"You may as well say I have seen the moon, but never been there." - -Cyrus laughed, quite a hearty little laugh, as if thoroughly amused. -"Well I do say it. And it's true, isn't it?" - -"Yes, but it has no relation to the argument." - -"Why not? I am merely proving my statement, that you have seen -interesting places which you have never visited. Either Trinity spire -or the moon might hold this diamond." - -"But Trinity spire does not fit your description of the country." - -Again Cyrus seemed amused. "But the moon fits it." - -William laughed. "Well, Cyrus, you are just the same boy in an argument -that you were at school. And how mad I used to get! But this mysterious -land that you are concealing so successfully, the land we have all -seen but never touched--or even heard about, apparently--must be a -God-forsaken district. Is it a desert--like Sahara, for instance?" - -"No, quite different. This is rock, with plains of lava from volcanic -mountains and everywhere, in all directions, dust and ashes: the dried -bones of its own past--whatever it was. The whole surface of the -country seems upheaved and torn, all on a gigantic scale, as if it was -baked too much, then split and sundered in the cooling. A fantastic, -solemn region." - -"Well, by Jove!" said William, at last, "I still maintain that I have -never seen the place--nor anything like it." - -"I said from a distance." - -"Must have been a mighty long distance." - -[Illustration: "----THE DRIED BONES OF ITS OWN PAST, WHATEVER IT -WAS"--_Page 212_] - -"It was." - -"And a mighty unusual country!" - -"It is. Scattered about are high mountains, once volcanoes. And in the -craters of these old volcanoes some of them many miles across, I saw -the ruins of cities. There must be hundreds of these mountains, and -hundreds of ruined cities." - -"Then you traveled over the whole country." - -"No, indeed! But I looked down on it as I approached, and could take in -a vast area." - -William straightened up, and his eyes opened wider. "Oho! Then you went -there in an air-ship!" - -Cyrus nodded. - -"That accounts for no water on the voyage, and all that other stuff you -gave us." - -Again Cyrus nodded. And, with a broad smile of amusement: "It might -also account for Trinity spire and the moon." - -But his audience was too much in earnest to be thwarted by jokes. "Yes, -yes!" said Mr. Bressani. "That explains much that you have said. Please -continue." - -William, however, with a frown, leaned back against the desk. "Cyrus, I -still believe you are lying to us." - -"No, truly I am not. I don't pretend to give you the whole truth, but -what I do tell you is the truth and nothing else." - -"Go on, Mr. Alton," said the Senior Partner. "We interrupted you. It -certainly is an amazing country." - -Cyrus continued. "The whole country is cracked and broken with chasms. -From one volcano cańons radiate in all directions. They are miles -in width, and they seem bottomless. And even in these cańons, on -projecting ledges, are the ruins of cities." - -"But why should they build their cities in those sunless chasms?" - -[Illustration: "BUT WHY BUILD THEIR CITIES IN THOSE SUNLESS -CHASMS?"--_Page 214_] - -"My belief is that the moisture evaporated, then the surface of all -that country became so unbearably hot--with no atmosphere as protection -from the sun's rays--that the inhabitants were driven to the cańons." - -"What a life! No wonder they all died!" - -"That portion of the universe," said Cyrus, "is the desolation of -desolation, the tragedy of tragedies. It is a world of ashes. And -over everything an awful silence, a silence that frightens you. The -stillness of death, compared to it, is a merry waltz." - -[Illustration: "AND OVER EVERYTHING AN AWFUL SILENCE"--_Page 214_] - -[Illustration: "----A WORLD OF DUST AND ASHES"--_Page 214_] - -"How did you happen to find this country?" - -"I had heard of it. You all know about it in a general way, as I have -already said. But I tried to get there and happened to succeed." - -William shook his head. "Sorry to contradict you, Cyrus, but I never -heard of such a place." - -Cyrus laughed. "Oh, yes, you have! Excuse me, but you have all read -about it, and seen many pictures of it." - -Mr. Bressani took up the diamond. As he caressed the glistening marvel -he asked: "Do other people know of these ruins?" - -"I think not." - -"You have never heard of any one else who has been there?" - -"Never." - -"Is the district difficult to reach?" - -"Very--almost impossible. In fact the trip is so long and risky that -you need have no fear of other explorers. I tell you this merely that -you may know the chances are small of the market being flooded with -diamonds--at least from that quarter. Nobody else will try it. You may -be sure of that. The diamonds are there, however, and plenty of them." - -[Illustration: "THE DIAMONDS ARE THERE, AND PLENTY OF THEM"--_Page -215_] - -"Plenty of them!" - -"Plenty--by the cart-load." - -William whistled. And the two older men whistled--in spirit--and raised -their eyebrows. With the Bressani eyebrows still in the air their owner -inquired: "You say this was lying on the top of the ground?" - -"Yes; among other fragments." - -"Fragments of what?" - -For a moment the visitor closed his eyes. "That is hard to answer. -I was there at dusk. The light was peculiar, and uncertain--and -changing. I should say there were fragments of cups and vases, of -carved capitals, scraps of metal that might be architectural ornaments, -all mingled with blocks of some white material, perhaps marble, or -alabaster. And all finely carved." - -"These things were scattered about the ground?" - -"Scattered about, but not literally on the ground. Many were lying on a -pavement of different colored stones--the floor of a building I should -say. The outer walls and several columns were still standing." - -"It might have been a palace, a temple, a forum,--almost anything of -size and importance." - -"You know nothing of the history of those people, of their manners and -customs?" - -"Nothing, whatever." - -"Where could I find out? That is, of course, if we had your permission." - -"Nowhere. Nobody knows. It is all forgotten--long ago forgotten--with -no records, no memories--not even a tradition." - -There was a silence. Cyrus knew that his hearers were having more -or less difficulty in digesting his statements. However, he smiled -pleasantly, as he said: "My sympathies are with you, gentlemen, and my -thanks for your courteous reception of my absurd story. But there is -one thing I do know about these people. Although their buildings were -often as high as ours, I know their legs were shorter. All their stone -steps, in every case, had risers about half the size of ours." - -"Ah! Then they were a race of pigmies." - -"I should think so, and with long arms and very short legs. They were -evidently strong on sculpture, as there are fragments of statues, -heads, bas reliefs, monuments, etc., all scattered about. And the -people represented are very much like ourselves, in some ways." - -[Illustration: "WITH LONG ARMS AND VERY SHORT LEGS"--_Page 216_] - -"You say you were there at dusk. Why didn't you see it by day light?" - -"Well, the--er--climate is peculiar. The air, if you can call it air, -is so very rarefied as to be no protection whatever against the heat of -the sun. And the surface of the ground, by daylight, would burn your -feet. And by night, there being no atmosphere twixt you and space, the -temperature is about 300 degrees below zero." - -"Three hundred degrees!" - -Cyrus smiled and nodded. "That's what the scientists say. I had no -thermometer with me." - -"But no human being could live in such a temperature!" - -"That is why I stuck to the twilight. And I suspect that is why the -cities were built in the cańons." - -"Why, of course! That explains it. I was wondering what on earth could -induce anybody to want to live in those God-forsaken chasms." - -Mr. Bressani, however, had a deeper interest in abnormal gems than -in climatic conditions. "Did you find this piece all alone, by -itself,--apart from others?" - -"No; other pieces were near it." - -"But not so large as this." - -"Oh, yes! Some were much larger." - -Mr. Bressani frowned. "Larger than this?" - -"Yes, much larger." - -"But not diamonds--not this same material?" - -"I suppose they were. They looked just like it." - -"Then why didn't you bring a larger piece? It would be a fabulous -fortune, in itself." - -Cyrus seemed uncertain as to his answer. "Well--there were--many -reasons. One was that I did not know they were diamonds. Another was -that I needed both hands for other purposes and could not carry--just -at that moment--anything too large to go in my pocket. In fact I tried -to pick up a beautifully carved fragment nearly the size of a football, -but I had to drop it for this smaller one." - -The three jewelers regarded him with eager faces, as children listen to -a fairy tale. Mr. Bressani in a low, somewhat awe stricken tone, said: - -"And there is really much of it?" - -"Lots of it." - -"But, of course, you are not absolutely sure it is the same material?" - -"Well--I saw the other part of the one in your hand lying beside it, -and it was four or five times the size of this one." - -The three men turned to each other, as if to discover the effect, on -other human beings, of such a statement. - -The Senior Partner leaned forward, each hand grasping an arm of his -chair. The Bressani eyebrows shot aloft, and he came a step nearer. -Nephew William adjusted his lips for a whistle, but changed his mind. -No sound came forth. - -It was the Senior Partner who was the first to find himself, and -return to business. Leaning back in his chair he cleared his throat. -"Mr. Alton, if you were not an old friend of William's, and if I -knew nothing about you, I should say that Munchausen, by comparison, -was a clumsy beginner. But your own reputation and that stone in Mr. -Bressani's hand, are proofs to the contrary--the best of proofs. Now -let us get to business. Is it your wish to sell this diamond to us?" - -"Yes, sir. That's why I came here. And I would prefer dealing with your -house, if you care to bother with it." - -The Senior Partner smiled. "It would be an unenterprising jeweler who -declined to bother with what will soon become the most famous diamond -of history--ancient or modern. If agreeable to you, Mr. Alton, you can -leave the stone with us, and we will give you, now, a receipt for an -uncut diamond of seventy-one hundred carats, value unknown. A few days -hence, at your convenience, we will submit for your consideration a -plan by which you shall receive a certain amount at once in cash, the -balance to be governed by the final value of the stones as they are cut -or sold. Would that be satisfactory to you?" - -"Perfectly." - -"And perhaps you will agree to give us the preference if you decide -later to flood the market with diamonds the size of paving stones." - -Cyrus smiled. "Yes, sir, I shall be glad to do so." - -A few moments later, the receipt in his pocket, Cyrus left the private -office, escorted by William. At the street door, as the young jeweler, -at parting, shook hands with his friend, he said: "And, by the way, old -man, when you can divulge the awful secret of where you found it don't -waste a second in telling us." - -"If there is a humorous side to this morning's interview, Billy, it is -in the name of that very place." - -"What do you mean?" - -"I mean I mentioned the name, and more than once." - -"Stuff!" - -"On my honor." - -"What was it?" - -"Oh, that's too easy! Good-by." - -And he left William standing in the doorway,--still guessing. - -Alone together, the unparalleled, incredible wonder on the desk before -them, the Senior Partner and Mr. Bressani remained silent for a time, -as if recovering from a dream. For the twentieth time that morning, Mr. -Bressani murmured: "It seems impossible!" Then, after another silence: -"But where did he get it? Has he been to the very center of the earth?" - -"Or," said the Senior Partner, with a shrug, "to the mountains of the -moon." - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -XIII - -A MESSAGE - - -To be lifted, suddenly, from poverty to wealth, is delightful. -Especially delightful when preceded by a preliminary course of -self-denial. For Cyrus and his father there was now an end, at last, to -the orthodox but discordant partnership between Pride and Want. - -Vaulting ambition has its uses. So have rags and hunger. And there are -times, as in the case of Cyrus, when they pull together. But now had -come the harvest. And the prosperity was real: the checks from the -Senior Partner were not a dream. - -"No more cheap food and shiny clothes for us," said Cyrus to his -father. "Me for gluttony; canvas backs three times a day; Burgundy and -dollar cigars. And brand new raiment every morning!" - -Dr. Alton nodded. "Yes, that's a good program. A change, even from bad -to worse, is often beneficial. Had you been brought up on canvas backs -and Burgundy, you might have yearned for water and dried apples." - -One of the first things Cyrus did was to visit Mrs. Eagan. The great -desire of her life had been to revisit Ireland, but she never could -save enough money. She had tried in vain to sell her little cottage -with its two acres of land. Now came a purchaser. For the acre farthest -from the house, for which there never had been a bid, Cyrus paid her -three thousand dollars. And the happy Mrs. Eagan went to Ireland. He -did other things, equally unbusinesslike. Some for his old friends; -some for the town itself. - -As for the Great Discovery both Cyrus and his father were of one -opinion--that it never must be made public: that the secret must die. -One of many reasons was, that with such a power in irresponsible hands -no man's property, and no man himself, would be secure. What safety -for a law abiding citizen when any criminal could purchase for a few -dollars and carry in his hand, or pocket, a weapon of unlimited energy -and force? The burglar or the highwayman could either escape at will or -send his victim into farthest space. - -He had various kinds of fun with his money. But he was no fool with it. -He had been too intimate with debt, half-rations and shabby raiment to -renew, voluntarily, the old acquaintance. But the greatest satisfaction -of all was the prospect of bringing a long deferred pleasure to his -father. Dr. Alton had spoken in years gone by of a trip to Europe. And -now he could have it. Moreover, this trip abroad, according to Cyrus, -was to be such a new departure in activity and leisure, in wisdom and -extravagance, as to startle Europe. - -"We'll make Croesus look like thirty cents--and Lucullus a skinflint." - -But Fate, brainless Fate, whose rewards and punishments seem random -shots, stepped in between. And the blow that came to Cyrus was the -hardest in his life. - -To the people of Longfields there was mystery in certain periods of Dr. -Alton's past. Those seven years abroad were secret history. The little -son and his unknown mother had invited explanation. But explanations -were not offered. Moreover, it was soon realized by his neighbors that -Dr. Alton's private affairs were his own, and were not for publication. -But people had surely a right to wonder why a physician with his -exceptional education and opportunities should give so little thought -to distinction in larger fields and prefer obscurity in a forgotten -little village. - -Miss Anita Clement and some other women believed that this handsome -young doctor had been the victim of a blighting passion; that his -heart, if not broken, had received a wound that never healed. But all -that was speculative. - -Of some things, however, they were sure. One was that his gentle -manner, his never failing help and kindness to poor and prosperous -alike, had resulted in a sincere affection for him, not only in -Longfields itself but in the neighboring villages. To every member of -the little community in which he lived and worked for nearly thirty -years his death was a personal loss. - -To Cyrus, this sudden, unexpected ending was a blow that stunned. -Many days were to pass before he fully realized how irreparable was -his loss. That his father's death should come when it did made sorrow -doubly keen. Of what good this sudden wealth when his best friend, -after these years of economy and self sacrifice, was not here to enjoy -it? And that trip abroad together--only a month away! - -Cyrus had this consolation, however, that the end was free from -suffering. - -An hour before his death--in a sunny November afternoon--his father was -reclining comfortably in his easy chair when he told Cyrus where to -find a package of letters in the further corner of a certain drawer in -his desk. Cyrus brought them. Then he sat by his father's side and, as -the letters, after being read, were handed him, one by one, he dropped -them into the fire. Some were limp and worn from many readings. With -them was a photograph of a woman's face. After a moment's hesitation -Dr. Alton handed it to his son. - -"That's your mother, Cyrus." - -With unspeakable emotion the son gazed upon this face. Her eyes looked -straight into his own. They were deep, dark, tragic--yet smiling. It -seemed to Cyrus that he had always known this face--and loved it. He -gazed in silence, overcome by feelings quite different from anything he -had heretofore experienced. His father's voice recalled him to himself. -The voice was becoming weaker. - -"Destroy this picture, Cyrus. If you ever meet her keep your knowledge -to yourself. Let her be the first--to greet you." - -So low was his voice that Cyrus bent forward to get his words. - -"Remember, always remember, she is a good woman." - -Dr. Alton leaned back and closed his eyes. - -A faint smile came to his lips. He whispered a name-- - -"Francesca." - -His thoughts wandered. In spirit he was far from Longfields. Below him -gleamed the Adriatic, azure blue. The breath of spring came gently to -his cheeks. Before him, and very near, is a woman's face, radiant with -beauty and with love, and with unfailing devotion. Her eyes looking -deep into his own, searching his innermost thoughts. There are none to -hide, for all are hers. - -The smile still upon his lips he murmured in French--his voice fainter -with each succeeding word--a message. - -And the last word, "Francesca," was scarcely a breath. - -Cyrus knew that another spirit had joined the countless host: that -into these final words a faithful lover had breathed his soul. - - * * * * * - -At that sunny hour of the afternoon, in Longfields, night had fallen -in the city of Milan. The great opera house was crowded. To lovers of -music the farewell appearance of the Diva was a memorable occasion. -It was also cause for surprise, but physicians had given warning of a -certain weakness about the heart. Besides, it may have been that after -thirty years of triumph--though apparently as young as ever--there had -come a surfeit of glory; a yearning for the tranquil life; for days and -nights of less effort and less excitement. - -So, still beautiful, erect as ever, and looking to perfection the -heroine, with the fresh, full voice of girlhood that charmed the world, -she was singing to-night before an audience, or rather, a host of -friends, that filled the great building from the floor to the topmost -seats. Both the glorious voice and the Diva herself seemed unchanged. -To-night she was still the envy of other singers. And to-night, as -usual, she thrilled an enchanted audience. - -Near the end of the second act came a surprise. Then it was that the -great singer seemed conquered by some strange emotion--some mysterious -agency that hushed her voice and enslaved her spirit. And to that -audience it always remained a mystery. - -Softly, from the orchestra, rose the accompaniment to the aria--the -divine aria--flooding the house with its melody. The Diva, with lips -parting for the opening notes, was moving slowly toward the front of -the stage. Then, instead of the voice for which the hundreds of eager -listeners were waiting, they saw her stop, and stand in silence. With -eyes closed, and face upturned, transfigured--as angels' faces are -transfigured--she stood, unconscious of the world about her. Vainly -the audience waited. Vainly the conductor waved his baton, as his -orchestra, with every bar, was leaving the Diva still further behind. - -But the Diva was far away. She heard him not. She heard nothing save -the thing unheard by others. The orchestra and its leader, the opera -house and the people in it, all had vanished--all had vanished as -completely from her thoughts as from her sight. The very music itself -helped the spirit's flight--to bear it aloft, to transport her far--oh -far indeed!--from where she stood. - -[Illustration: "But the Diva was far away. She heard nothing save the -thing unheard by others."] - -As a dying zephyr mingles with the fragrance of the flowers, so with -the harmony of the music came, from over seas, a lover's message. Her -name--Francesca--interwoven with the melody, came gently to her senses. -She knew from whom. And she alone knew what memories it revived, -crowding upon her through the music; precious memories of the only -passion of her life; of the one being to whom she had given her heart, -her self, her very soul--and for all time. Now, once again, they were -meeting. It came, the message, not in words--merely the breath of a -dying lover. It brought this truth, that all joy of living had ended at -their parting--nearly thirty years ago. Not a moment in those years had -his devotion wavered, a devotion greater and more real than all else in -life, beyond and far above the reach of death. Now, on the borders of -that other world where loyal hearts shall know no parting--there she -would find him waiting. Again her name--Francesca--fading away into the -melody of the aria. - -The Diva lowered her face, pressed a hand against her temples and -swayed as if to fall. But her recovery was sudden. She smiled toward -the sea of anxious faces and nodded to the conductor, who started his -orchestra afresh. Then she sang the aria as never before. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -XIV - -OVER SEAS - - -There was music in Cyrus. As a boy, however, he could never get it out. -With no voice for singing his main relief was in whistling and humming -and in drumming with his fingers. Which, of course, made him more -or less of a nuisance at times. When he grew up his voice improved. -Not enough to outshine the nightingales, but it served for domestic -purposes. At church, for instance, he joined the congregation in the -hymns. His voice, in speaking, was low, with a pleasant quality, and -was more than satisfactory for ordinary human intercourse. But as a -musical instrument it aroused no enthusiasm. His father had said, on -one occasion: "The louder you sing, Cyrus, the less noise you make." - -But music had always moved him, and in a singular way; much as many -others are affected, perhaps, but more profoundly. It touched strange -chords, deep within him. It inspired him, and seemed to bring a keener -edge to his capacity for pain or pleasure; lifting him, at times, far -away from himself, to a world where other people are not too real; -where beauty and virtue, power, glory and justice are at one's own -command. Music brought these things to Cyrus--also other things for -which a young man's soul is thirsting. - -One evening in May there was a service in the church in which the -congregation--Cyrus included--had joined in the singing. After the -service he walked home alone. As he entered his own grounds the -music of the last hymn echoed in his brain. Still humming it, he -stopped and looked up at the stars. The solemn stillness of the night -brought memories of his father. And as he stood there, gazing at -the stars, he felt in the night air itself an unfamiliar element; -something that awakened within him emotions unrelated to his outward -senses. There was no moon, but from countless stars came flickering -beams--faint greetings from other worlds. He seemed alone in the Great -Silence--alone in the universe itself; in closer communion with hidden -things. From out the darkness, mingling with the silence, yet almost -silence itself, there came to him a breath--a murmur. It was not the -evening breeze among the branches of the maples. It was the gentlest -music, but not the echoes in his brain of the evening hymn. No--it -came from far away. It seemed personal--directed to himself. For a -time he stood without moving, every faculty alert. Not with his ears -did he listen, but with a deeper sense, as of one spirit striving for -communion with another. At last the music, the voice, the indefinable -melody died away, gently, into the silence of the night. - -Patiently he waited. Then, after a time, when nothing came, he opened -his eyes and lowered his face. In the continued silence about him he -began to suspect that his own brain might have been deceiving him; that -the message was from his own imagination. And was it a message? It had -told him nothing. So far as he could divine it was a call--a prayer, -but clearly to himself. Still wondering, he entered the house, did his -customary little chores, then went upstairs to bed. - -For a time he lay awake, thinking, but once asleep his sleep was sound. -From this sleep, however, he was awakened by what seemed a whispered -voice within the room. He sat up in his bed, and spoke. - -"Who is it?" - -Then came--as before, when he was standing beneath the stars--the -almost inaudible, far-away echo of a song. He listened, with every -sense alert. And, as before, it seemed addressed distinctly to -himself--an appeal to come. But where? So real was the entreaty that -he obeyed an impulse, arose from his bed and prepared to dress. As he -stood at his eastern window a few moments later, he heard again--or -thought he heard--the alluring voice. - -A faint, cool light at the horizon was creeping slowly upward, along -the edges of the earth. - -Yes, it came from off there. And he would follow it. Why not? His -father was gone. What held him in Longfields--or anywhere else? -Moreover, he had power to travel as was not given to other men. -Besides, it pleased him to believe in this need for himself, this call -to danger, death or sacrifice--or whatever it might be. To him it had -become a prayer from one soul to another. And he felt that he and the -other soul were not strangers. - -So, an hour later, Cyrus in his machine rose high above the earth and -steered his course toward the spreading light in the East. Now it was a -warmer tint, and growing rosier as it spread. - -Guided only by the rising sun and by some subtle sense which he did -not pretend to define, he sailed--or darted--over the waste of water -between Cape Cod and Portugal. Far below him, on this deep blue ocean, -specks were moving. Some were white; others darker, shedding smoke. But -all moved so slowly, compared with himself, that they seemed at anchor. -For, with him, any speed was possible and unfailing. - -This was his first trip by daylight across the Atlantic. When out of -sight of land, with the level, dark blue line of the horizon on every -side, he began to have the same sensation as when flying through space; -a sensation of aimless wandering. Also, there being no land marks, -nothing by which to measure progress, he found his only way of gauging -speed was by the amount of electric power he applied to his machine. -He had, of course, the sun to go by: and he knew the difference in -time between Boston and Lisbon was about four hours. Six hours he had -allowed for reaching Europe but he was startled by the rapidity with -which the morning sun was sliding westward across the heavens. It -helped him to guess at his velocity when he found the morning sun had -become, somewhat suddenly, an afternoon sun, and was well behind him. -Across the ocean he shot his machine, more like a cannon ball than a -passenger craft. Over the first piece of land--which must be Spain--he -hovered a few minutes for a hasty lunch; also for a supply of fresh -air. His oxygen cylinder was so large and with such enormous pressure -to the square foot that with the attendant apparatus for supplying -breathable air it could keep him alive for several days. But now he -took good long breaths of the outer air as a matter of both economy and -luxury. - -Then along the Northern end of the Mediterranean, still guided by Faith -alone for the spot whence came the summons. - -Now Cyrus, in his knowledge of geography, was about like the rest of -us. He had learned it, but details were not fresh in his mind. The two -great islands off to his right he guessed were Corsica and Sardinia. -Over Northern Italy he sped, where local showers were hiding, for -a time, the land beneath. One city on the western coast, with its -countless canals, was unmistakably Venice. On he sped across the -upper end of the Adriatic--the narrow part. Here, as he approached -the eastern shore, guidance forsook him. He slowed his machine, then -stopped. Thus far his intuition, whether right or wrong, had led him -without wavering. Now, and suddenly, all guidance ceased--his intuition -vanished. A sudden need, he felt, for knowledge he did not possess. -A sense of helplessness came upon him, intensified, perhaps, by the -reaction from his previous confidence. In fear of straying from his -course he decided to alight. If fortune favored him the voice might -come again, and he could start afresh. So he descended, slowly, toward -the summit of a towering hill whose western sides were steep and -thickly wooded. - -He landed in a cypress grove, beside a garden. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -XV - -A GARDEN OF WONDERS - - -When Cyrus stepped out of his machine he stood for a moment unsteady on -his legs; a usual condition in a sudden change of air after hours of -bewildering speed. - -So far as he could judge he was in the grounds of an institution of -some kind--a monastery, a college, a convent, or possibly a summer -palace. Along the side of the garden overlooking the sea, which lay -far below, ran a wall. On this wall at regular spaces stood statues -of ecclesiastical persons, presumably Saints. They stood back to the -sea, facing the garden. In the garden a fountain played. Off beyond -the garden he saw long, white buildings, and a chapel. But what most -impressed him was the beauty of a line of cloisters, their many arches -of white marble, softened by age, now all aglow in the light of the -western sun. But his wandering, enchanted eyes fell upon another sight, -different in character, yet fully as interesting. But in a different -way. So interesting that he forgot, for a moment, the garden, the -fountain, the cloisters and the Saints. The sight that gently stirred -him was the figure of a girl; a graceful figure that seemed a fitting -climax to this garden in fairy land. She was leaning against the -parapet, her face toward the sun, now sinking in the West. She seemed -in deepest meditation. Her dress, a light gray, with white bands at -the neck and shoulders, suggested a religious order. So he decided -that his guess at having landed in a convent might be correct. He was -not familiar with convents. The inmates, so far as he knew, might -be a mingling of religious fanatics and female criminals partially -reformed. He felt sure, however, up to the present moment, that they -were wide and square in build, plain of face and haters of men. Hence -his surprise at the alluring, girlish figure now before him. Perhaps -this one was in here by mistake. Or, she might be some lovely victim -of disappointed love. May be a human angel brutally treated by cruel -relatives. Perhaps a marriageable princess escaping a distasteful -alliance. But these were merely guesses. She was standing not far away, -and was partly hidden from the convent buildings by the trunks of the -ancient cypresses. - -Cyrus approached this damsel. He saw that she was short, and slight of -figure, distinctly _petite_, and so absorbed in her own thoughts that -she failed to hear his footsteps on the gravel walk. - -He coughed. It seemed a safe if not original manner of announcing -his presence. The girl turned and faced him. She was startled; and -a hand went swiftly to her lips as if to suppress an exclamation. A -short moment they stood regarding each other, a dozen feet apart, the -light full in the face of the intruder, while the girl's was partly -in shadow. For the descending sun was almost directly behind her. So -earnestly she studied him that he became embarrassed. Her own surprise -was so great that her lips parted, then closed again, as if her voice -were lost in astonishment. She took a backward step and laid a hand -on the parapet as if for support. As for Cyrus, this little person -was easily the most entrancing vision of his experience. Slight, -erect, with a dainty head and glorious eyes, she seemed a perfect and -harmonious element with the radiant splendors in the West. Such eyes -he had not beheld since he lived beneath the spell of the celestial -windows of Ruth Heywood's soul. These present eyes, now opened wide in -wonder, were trying to grapple with his presence, as with some visitors -from another planet. - -Cyrus bowed; his very best, most elaborate and ceremonious inclination. -And Cyrus's bows were works of art. - -Had he been attired in court costume, and swept the earth with a -chapeau of ostrich plumes instead of a checkered golf cap, he would -have eclipsed the Grand Monarque in his own field. It was, of course, -the same old salutation that had startled Longfields years ago. - -Then he advanced a step. "Do you happen to speak English, madam?" - -The girl hesitated a moment, then nodded. - -Cyrus, delighted at the unexpected answer, took another step -nearer--perhaps two or three. Joy was written in his face. His manner -became, unconsciously, almost familiar. - -"How fortunate! I am a stranger here. Can you tell me what place this -is?" - -As he moved nearer the parapet the girl had turned toward him until her -face was more in the sunlight. In his own face admiration was clearly -written. The girl lowered her eyes. But she made no answer. - -He spoke again. "This certainly is not a hospital, is it?" - -She moved her head, gently, in the negative. - -"Is it the palace, or villa, of some King, or Prince or Duke--or -something?" - -Again the silent answer in the negative. - -A chilling thought came to the traveler. Could this be a deaf and dumb -asylum? - -Now Cyrus had been "going on his nerves" for some hours and they might -be more sensitive than usual. The last distressful thought showed -plainly in his face. His heart began to bleed for this afflicted -angel. And so pretty! So superlatively charming and desirable! As she -raised the wondrous eyes and again regarded him his one ambition, at -the moment, was to avoid appearing too imbecile and clownish. And lo, -he was both! Never had he felt so helpless. If he knew at least the -sign language there might be hope for progress. Even in that field of -expression all he could recall were the doings in the pantomimes: to -shut the eyes and incline your head upon your hand for sleep; to wabble -your jaw for terror, and to lick your lips and rub your stomach with a -rotary motion when you wanted food. But this was no moment for comic -things, when his own heart and the very air he breathed were all a -quiver with high adventure, with Beauty and Romance. So he stood before -her in a painful, and--it seemed to him--a foolish silence. He looked -down, then away, then at her, and as his drowsy eyes rested on her face -he thought he detected an effort to suppress a smile. This doubled -his embarrassment. He tried vainly to discover in what manner his -question was mirth provoking. However, he made a brave effort to assert -himself--to appear as if nobody cared. So he smiled, and straightened -up a little. - -"If you speak English won't you please say something? Just tell me what -kind of a place this is? Where I am?" - -"Non entra no signori in questo giardino." - -Cyrus knew those words were Italian, and that was all. He frowned in -his endeavor to guess their meaning. - -"I am sorry, but I don't understand. Won't you please say that in -English?" - -"I said you were in a place where men are not allowed." - -In pronouncing English words it seemed another voice. And he had heard -it before! His drowsy eyes opened wider, his lips parted, and for a -moment he stared, in wonder, as if belief came hard. Was it the voice -he had heard in the darkness--in the motor, that night? As he stood in -dumb surprise, hoping for the best, the girl stepped forward with a -smile and extended a hand. - -"Ruth!" he exclaimed. "Oh, Ruth! Really, is it you?" - -It was. And great joy was in the meeting. They told each other many -things. He learned that after the death of her parents she had found a -refuge here, in this convent, through the influence of a friend. And -he, in turn, told of his father's sudden death, of his own doings, of -the Great Discovery. But he made no mention of his present affluence. -He could foresee her sorrow and her sympathy for a man, otherwise -normal, who told of gathering diamonds on the moon. - -Leaning against the parapet, and facing the golden sky across the -water, they talked, forgetful of surroundings. So engrossing was this -talk of other days that they lived again in Longfields. - -From this Fairy Land of childhood Ruth was the first to return to -earth. "You must go, Drowsy." And she turned an anxious look toward -the buildings beyond the garden. - -"Oh, don't say that! Why, Ruth, this is the happiest moment of my -life--a thousand times the happiest. Life has really begun again!" - -"That is very polite of you, but----" - -"Polite! Well, I should say! Why, Ruth, your very presence--just to -look at you and hear your voice--is a--is a--breath of heaven. You are -the loveliest thing I have ever seen. I can't express it!" - -She laughed. "You are doing fairly well." - -"Of course, you know it already, but truly, with no exaggeration, as -you stand there now with that western sun for a side light you are the -daintiest thing in Creation. And the same spell-binding eyes! Well, I -knew that night in the dark that you were not a giantess--and that was -about all." - -She raised a hand for silence. "That will do, Drowsy. You have covered -the ground." - -But Cyrus went on. "And so angelic and pleasantly superior! Why, you -are a temptation to any able-bodied lover to pick you up and run--or -fly--away with you." - -She blushed, frowned and laughed, all at the same time. "That will do! -Now I know exactly what I am--and just how childish a man can be. I -believe you are lighter headed than when you were a boy." - -"I am telling the truth." - -"Telling the truth! Then you have changed, indeed, for that was not -your habit." In sudden alarm she straightened up. "Oh, but you mustn't -be seen here, Drowsy! You must go--at once!" - -"Not now? Not this very minute?" - -"Yes, this very minute. Men are not allowed here, under any -circumstances. If I were found talking with you it would mean--oh, -anything!" - -"What does it matter? You are not going to stay here." - -"Stay here? Of course I am!" - -"But not long?" - -"So long as I live." - -"You don't mean that!" - -"Why not? I expect to live and die here. We are all very happy and very -thankful." - -"You don't mean that you are not coming back to--to Longfields--to me? -You don't really mean what you say? That you are going to stay here -forever?" - -"Certainly. Of course. Why not?" - -"Then you have changed your mind since this morning--since yesterday." - -She looked up into Cyrus's face, puzzled, and disturbed. "Changed my -mind? What do you mean? I really don't understand." - -"Are you pretending that you don't know why I am here?" - -"Pretending!" - -"Any other word that you prefer. Only tell me." - -"Tell you what?" - -"Do you mean to say that you don't know why I am here?" - -"You came to see me, I suppose." - -"And you had no idea I was coming?" - -"Not the slightest. How could I? I never was more surprised. But it's a -most welcome surprise." - -Cyrus closed his eyes and drew a long breath as one who makes an effort -at self control. "I ask just one thing, Ruth. Be honest with me." - -"Be honest! Why, Cyrus, what _do_ you mean? Indeed I can only guess at -what's in your mind. You look as if you were angry. You have no right -to be. Aren't you assuming----" - -"Oh, don't! Don't do that! At least be frank. Why did you call me -across the water? Just for the pleasure of doing this?" - -"Call you? Across the water?" - -There was touch of contempt in Cyrus's manner as he replied: "You don't -even know what I mean?" - -"On my honor I do not!" - -"And you accuse me of not being truthful!" - -"Drowsy, listen. This may be our last meeting. Let us not part in this -spirit--through any misunderstanding. Our friendship is too precious -for that, isn't it? I beg you, tell me what you mean by my calling you. -When? How? Do you mean a letter?" - -"I mean the message I received last night, and again early this -morning. Through the air--by wireless as it were--in the old way, years -ago, that I often got your messages." - -"But I have sent you no message." - -"Didn't you even think of me yesterday or this morning?" - -"No, I did not. I have thought of you often, and of our old childhood -attachment, but not yesterday nor this morning, nor for several days." - -"Perhaps you remember," said Cyrus, speaking slowly, the slumbrous eyes -looking earnestly down into Ruth's, "I used to get messages from you -when we were far apart, even from your house to mine." - -"Indeed I do! And it was most mysterious--almost uncanny." - -"And they never deceived us?" - -"No, never;--as I remember them." - -"Well, it was the same sort of message I received last night. It came -to me twice, and the meaning of the message was as clear as any spoken -word. And to this spot it guided me." - -He turned and looked about the grounds, beyond the trees and garden, -toward the cloisters and the chapel. "Who but you could call me here?" - -Ruth, also, looked toward the convent buildings. "Is it not possible -your own brain may have played you a trick? Such things happen, you -know." - -"My brain has not played such tricks. So far it has never deceived me. -To be honest I was not thinking of you at the time. Father's death had -been almost my only thought for weeks." - -"What more can I say, Drowsy? I am telling you the truth. And after all -why should I call you? If you are the faithful soul you pretend to be, -why didn't you write me months ago?" - -"How could I? I never had your address. And you promised--or almost -promised--to let me have it. I waited, and waited, hoping for -it--wondering in what way it was to come." - -She frowned: then, with a solemn movement of the head: - -"You did have it." - -"I did have it! How on earth could I get it?" - -"From Gertrude Page. I told her to mention a letter from me. Then, if -you asked for my address, she would give it to you. But you didn't ask." - -Vehemently he protested. "On my honor, Ruth, this is the first I have -heard of it. She never spoke of any letter. And why should she, poor -thing? For nearly a year she has been in the asylum at Worcester." - -"You mean her--her mind is affected?" - -"Yes;--sort of a nervous breakdown. And her memory gone." - -"Oh, how dreadful!" - -In the silence that followed, Ruth found the drowsy eyes looking deep -into her own, as if reading her innermost thoughts. She recalled the -singular power he had exercised as a boy--of seeing into other people's -minds, apparently without effort, and answering questions before they -were asked. At this present moment she had reasons for keeping her own -thoughts to herself. She avoided his gaze, and looked away, over the -water, toward the west. Too late, it seemed, for he said, quietly: - -"It would have been fairer to me if you had sent it." - -"Sent what?" - -"The second letter, the one you wrote to somebody else." - -Ruth's little figure stiffened. Color flew to her cheeks, and there -were signs of anger as she faced him. - -"How do you know I wrote a second letter?" - -Taken aback by this sudden change of manner, he hesitated, then he -smiled, but with an obvious effort. And the smile was not of mirth. -It was a smile of the joyless type, often employed to carry favor. -"Why--I--er--I don't know exactly." - -"Yes you do know. You pried into my thoughts. It's your old trick. And -a hateful habit." - -"I am sorry, Ruth. I know it's a hateful habit." - -"Then why do you do it?" - -"I don't do it. I didn't mean to do it then. It's not a habit any more. -Years ago I gave it up. But now, I was so anxious, so very anxious to -know your real thoughts--to know if you really had no love for me at -all--that I couldn't resist. I swear I will not do it again. Truly I -almost never do it. But now, at the critical moment of my life, when -it's a matter of life or death, the temptation was too great." - -"It's an exasperating, dishonorable trick, and I don't like it." - -"I am sorry, Ruth. Please forgive me." - -"And you are very much mistaken if you think any woman with a -particle of pride is going to marry a man who can spy into her secret -thoughts--and merely by staring at her." - -Her eyes still avoided him. She looked over the garden, toward the -cloisters, anywhere except at his face. When she spoke again, however, -there was more sympathy in her voice. "But that doesn't matter. It has -always been my intention to remain here." - -"You don't really mean it?" - -"Indeed I do! It is no sudden decision. I am very happy here." - -He turned partly away, and said nothing. She glanced at his face, and -its expression would have softened the Rock of Ages. There was no doubt -of his sincerity; nor of his silent agony beneath the blow he had just -received. No words were uttered. He simply stood and gazed--at nothing. - -Across the garden, from the open windows of the central building, came -the sound of a harp. It came faintly, a gentle, plaintive melody, all -in harmony with the murmur of the fountain, the fading glories in the -west--and an aching heart. The voice of the harp may have had its -effect on Ruth. As she looked up at the face of Cyrus, with its misery, -she began to feel the old-time sympathy of their childhood; the long -forgotten sense of responsibility for his welfare when she was mother -and sister to him, with the woman's love he had missed as a boy; also -his chosen pal;--his adored and trusted playmate. She felt again the -yearning to keep him out of trouble. His distress brought an almost -equal suffering to herself. But when he turned his eyes again to her -face she was--apparently--still studying the cloisters. - -"Is this really the end?" He spoke in a lower, unsteady voice. "Do you -really mean that our boy and girl days, our old affection, all those -memories--and you don't know how much they have meant to me--always, -always--through everything--you don't really mean--all that is--is -just--nothing? That I am no more to you than anybody else?" - -The heart in Ruth's little body beat so loud--it seemed to her--that -a man could hear it. She tried hard to blink away the moisture in her -eyes as they rested on various objects, but not on the face of Cyrus. -"You will get over it, Drowsy. I feel it, in another way, as much as -you do. Please don't talk about it. And you really must go. A man's -presence here--and alone with me--would be very hard to explain. Please -go--for my sake!" - -Cyrus closed his eyes and drew a hand, slowly, across his forehead. -Then, instead of the protest she expected, he straightened up in a -sudden agitation, laid his hand on her arm and pointed toward the -convent buildings. - -The voice of a woman, singing, came floating across the silent garden. - -"What is that?" he whispered. - -Also in a lower tone Ruth answered: "That is Sister Francesca, -singing. She has a heavenly voice." - -"What is she singing?" - -"An old Hungarian song. A mother's prayer for her child. She often -sings it. And nothing could be more beautiful." - -"Sister Francesca!" he exclaimed, but in a solemn whisper. He -remembered his father's dying words. - -"A famous singer," Ruth explained. "All the world has heard of her. She -was never a mother but she sings this song with all the feeling and -the----" - -He did not hear the end of the sentence. He had started in the -direction of the song, across the garden. - -"Stop! Stop! Cyrus, stop. You don't know what you are doing!" - -But he paid no attention. Again she called. She entreated, then -commanded. Still he paid no attention. And he walked so fast that she -stopped and stood still in helpless terror. She could only guess at -what this humiliating misadventure might signify to the other sisters. -On second thought she followed, but with the courage of despair. The -catastrophe was at hand, and she would face it. As for Cyrus, he heard -her not. He heard only the song. He heard only the woman singing--the -voice and the song that had come to him beneath the stars, at -Longfields! - -At last he stopped. And when he stopped he was standing upon a stone -terrace, where high arched windows reached the floor, their heavy -casements now wide open. - -There he stood, and listened. - -Although a lover of music, and keenly sensitive to its charm, this -prayer affected him beyond any other song. Its pathos, with the divine -voice that had thrilled the world, reached deeper than his emotions. -Into his very soul it sank. It seemed to open the doors of memory--the -memory of things long forgotten; things almost of another life. - -Under a spell he listened, and the spell was intensified by the scene -about him,--an enchanted garden high above the world. Against the gold -and crimson in the West stood the statues at the garden's edge, their -purple shadows reaching almost to the terrace. With the warm, soft -light that enveloped all things came a peace and a beauty that were -more of paradise than of earth. And, as if to complete the illusion -of the upper realms, the voice of the singer seemed to lift him yet -further from the world of common things. Between this voice and his -spiritual self came a new born harmony. It came to him as a message -between two hearts, wafted across a gulf of years. The message it -brought was intimate, for him alone. To the voice itself, a tendril of -love, all the chords of his own heart were vibrating. Some mysterious -power reawakened elusive but imperishable bonds between itself and him. - -He closed his eyes, shut out the world about him, and his soul and the -soul of the singer were one. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -XVI - -THE SOUL OF A SONG - - -Within, at one side of the room, a group of forty sisters, more or -less, sat listening to the song. The room was spacious. Against its -white walls hung various paintings by old masters. The further wall, -facing the western windows, was partly covered by an enormous tapestry -representing Esther and her handmaidens before King Ahasuerus. The king -was on a throne, amid the splendors of his court. Now, at this hour, -its colors were all aglow at the touch of the sinking sun. Between the -three long windows stood growing plants in massive pots of Siena marble. - -Across the room, facing the sisters, stood Madame Francesca; and, not -far away, the accompanist with her harp. - -The various members of the little audience were affected by the song -in different ways and in different degree, according to temperament. -Some, enraptured by her voice and art, leaned forward in ćsthetic joy. -Others, with moister eyes and quicker breath, gave out their hearts to -the deeper meaning of the song. Madame Drusilla, an older woman whose -two young sons had fallen in the war, sat always, on these occasions, -with head bent low, her face in her hands. But all the others kept -their eyes upon the singer. For the personality of Madame Francesca--as -she wished to be called since her retirement from the world--possessed -in itself an irresistible charm. Now, standing in her light gray -uniform, in the flood of golden light from the great windows, she -seemed transfigured--a celestial being from another sphere. - -The song itself was the outpouring of a mother's love. And it was -rendered with a pathos, a beauty and a depth of feeling that stirred -the heart of every listener. It seemed to the sisters a marvel of -dramatic art that a woman, however great an artist, could so touch the -hearts of others when not herself a mother. And they marveled that a -woman whose physicians forbade excitement could so move an audience and -not be overwhelmed herself by emotion. - -The song ended. As the fingers of the harpist moved gently across the -strings, in the last notes of the accompaniment, Madame Francesca stood -for a moment with closed eyes. Her breathing and the color in her -cheeks showed a degree of feeling which Sister Lucrezia, the physician, -did not approve. - -Then came a climax to the song--a climax far transcending any singer's -art. In this short, somewhat solemn silence that followed the song, -there appeared in one of the long windows that opened to the floor, -a figure rarely seen within the convent walls. It was a man. And the -man was neither workman, priest, grand duke or king. Neither was he -old. Men visitors were rare, and the few that entered were usually -middle aged or churchly. This visitor was young, hatless, his hair in -disorder. He wore a checkered suit and leather leggings, and he was in -no way ecclesiastical. His manner was eager,--somewhat excited, with -eyes fixed earnestly on Sister Francesca. He paid no attention to the -other sisters. If such a thing was possible he was ignorant of their -presence. As for the sisters they were too surprised to speak, or move. -They merely sat and stared. - -Cyrus stepped within, slowly, as in a trance. Slowly he advanced toward -Madame Francesca. She, as surprised as any of the others, regarded -him in silence until he stopped before her. As they stood facing each -other, the western light on both their faces, the spectators--including -Ruth, now at the open window--began to marvel. Fear began to mingle -with surprise, for many in the audience knew that famous beauties could -be tormented by crazy lovers. But fear, in turn, gave way to wonder, -for it proved a strange interview, never forgotten by those who saw it. -No words were spoken. No words were needed. In the eyes that looked -into his own Cyrus read their greeting as clearly as in an open book. -And she, as clearly, looked deep into his heart--as she had looked -into the heart of his father. Now in his responsive, eager face she -saw the confirmation of his father's letters, that she had bequeathed -to her child her own extraordinary faculty. It brought a sudden joy, -this assurance of a perfect understanding. Each received, in full, -the other's message. In the face of Cyrus--with his grandfather's -drowsy eyes--she saw his happiness in this meeting. He was telling -her in unspoken words of his childhood yearnings; how he had thought -and dreamed of her from early boyhood; that he had prayed and hoped -for this meeting. And now--here, had come the fulfillment of all his -dreams, his hopes, his prayers! And he, as he fathomed to their secret -depths the tragic but tender eyes, found love and a heart-expanding -welcome. - -The little audience, however, saw nothing but the outward, silent -greetings. To them was not revealed the greater happiness, the -imperishable bond. - -But this silent meeting, with its overwhelming joy, was the prelude to -the drama--its silent overture. The curtain had risen on the Diva's -final triumph, the Immortal Opera with its happy ending. - -To the amazement of the audience she drew the young man's face to -hers and kissed him on either cheek. Then, overcome by emotion, as -it seemed, her head fell slowly forward on his breast. Without his -supporting arms she would have sunk to the floor. The sisters saw, and -hastened to her side. Cyrus, with their help, carried the fainting -figure to a nearby bench, where they laid her, with a cushion beneath -her head. Sister Lucrezia, the physician, bent anxiously over the -unconscious form. And so sudden was it all that her hearers could -hardly believe her when at last she arose, and solemnly announced that -the spirit of Madame Francesca had risen to another life. - -She spoke in Italian but Cyrus knew its meaning. His head drooped and -he stood motionless, crushed, as if his own spirit and that of the -sleeping figure on the bench were still together. - -It was the Diva's long sleep. The last notes of her enchanting voice -had died away; the curtain was down, the orchestra gone, the lights -out. The audience had vanished. No more in the empty house would be -heard the clapping of hands, the cries of enthusiasm, the _bravos_ and -_encores_. - -But there are memories that never die. And now, to those who looked -upon the tranquil face, it seemed as if memories of conquest and of -triumph--or of something higher--still lingered in her heart. For the -face was more than peaceful. There was a smile upon the lips that bore -witness to a perfect contentment beyond the touch of death. - - * * * * * - -Cyrus was recalled to himself by the voice of the Mother Superior, -a tall, gray-haired, kind-faced woman. She approached him, and in a -voice of sympathy addressed him, in Italian. He understood the meaning -of the message; that she shared his grief, but the presence of men -was forbidden; the rules were strict, and she begged him to go. He -expressed his gratitude by a respectful inclination and a few words -in English. Then he walked over to the silent figure. Upon her folded -hands he laid one of his own and stood, for a moment, looking down upon -the face. The rosy light from the western sky seemed to bring the flush -of life to the Diva's cheeks. He knelt beside the bench. Reverently he -touched his lips to the sleeper's forehead. - -He arose and moved toward the terrace. Near the window he stopped, and -to the watching sisters he bowed. In this obeisance he told his sorrow -and his profound respect. Then he turned and went out as he came. - -The Mother Superior, still apprehensive, asked Ruth to accompany him -to the gates and make sure of his departure. But Cyrus did not walk -toward the gates. He walked toward the spot where he and Ruth had met, -then beyond among the trees. During this walk neither spoke. As Cyrus -was obviously in deepest sorrow Ruth refrained from words. Absorbed in -her own thoughts, she suddenly realized that she was approaching an -unfamiliar object. This unfamiliar object, a thing about twenty feet -in length and a little taller than a man, might pass for some unknown -monster of the deep, or a minor whale. It seemed to be of iron with a -trap-door in the side just large enough for a man to climb within. Its -color was a dull gray. - -"Look!" she exclaimed. "What on earth is that?" - -"My flying machine. That is what I came in." - -"You came in that?" - -As she looked up at him he nodded, slowly, and made no other reply. -The light was fading, but she could see that a change had come into -his face since they stood together at the garden wall. This new -expression showed a side of his character that she had forgotten. She -now remembered that it was the same look that had come into his face -when he vanquished the Tormentor in the Unitarian Church, years ago; -when the good natured, easy going boy became, of a sudden, a reckless -gladiator, the fearless defender who fights--and dies, if needed--for a -sacred cause; his God, his Country, or--on that occasion--for his girl. -It told deep emotions, of strength of purpose and the courage that has -no respect for obstacles. Yet the slumbrous eyes were friendly as he -said: - -"Come, Ruth. Come home with me. I will make you happier than you will -ever be in this place." - -"No, Cyrus. No. I cannot." - -"Do you mean that you will stay here all your life, from a sense of -duty?" - -"No--not wholly. Oh, why begin all over again? Please be reasonable, -Drowsy. Please go away quietly." - -His voice was gentle, but there was something in his face that -recalled the boy of long ago, the boy who vanquished giants. Now it -was the man--who might defy the gods. She was afraid:--of what, she -knew not. But she took a backward step, a hand to her breast as if to -calm a nervous heart. There was reason to be afraid. For then happened -the unforgivable thing--doubly unforgivable when applied to a woman -of sensibility and pride. He bent forward, to pick up something at -her feet, she thought. Then, without warning, and all too sudden for -escape, she felt an arm behind her knees, another across her back, -and she was lifted from the ground. Before she could protest, or even -struggle, he pushed open the door of the iron monster with his foot and -passed her within as if she were a child. Gently he placed her on the -floor and climbed in himself. She found herself sitting in front of -him, her shoulders held firmly between his knees. He shut the little -door at his side and all was dark. A button was pressed, one or two -small levers manipulated, then a buzzing sound, a slight quivering -of the car and through the port hole in front she saw that they were -rising above the tops of the trees. - -Then, high into the air. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -XVII - -"I MEAN IT" - - -Six hundred miles an hour, to old-time travelers, might seem fast. High -up in the air, however, some miles above the earth with nothing beneath -but the Atlantic Ocean, it seems a moderate pace. There are none of the -usual landmarks to gauge one's speed; no telegraph poles, houses, or -towns. The few ships one passes, seen far below, are movable objects -with no definite relation to your own progress. Also, in a practically -air tight conveyance no wind can beat against your face. - -While three hours may seem brief for a transatlantic passage it must -be remembered that the time Cyrus lost in going Eastward he gained in -going West. The surface of our little earth moves eastward about a -thousand miles an hour; so, with North America rushing forward to meet -him he could easily make the journey of five thousand miles and more -in the four hours, and almost without hurrying. There is a startling -difference in celerity between an automobile and a yoke of oxen; -more still between a steamship and a cannon-ball: and Cyrus' device -was capable of any speed that he dared to travel. The only delays -were in starting off, and in approaching his own Coast. Once above -Massachusetts, however, he could easily find Longfields. The landmarks -were familiar. - -During this journey very little conversation took place between his -passenger and himself. Sitting on the floor in front of him, her -shoulders between his knees, he could not see her face. She made no -acknowledgment of his speeches and gave no answer to any questions. He -was correct in his belief that she was both alarmed and angry. But he -did not know at the time that her anger far exceeded her alarm. This he -realized, however, when he helped her from the car at the door of her -aunt's house in Longfields. - -For a moment she leaned against the door, weak, trembling, dazed, her -hair disarranged, her cheeks hot. No words had been spoken during the -last two hours. This long silence he was the first to break. - -"You will forgive me, Ruth, won't you?" - -It was too dark to see each other's faces, but this time had her eyes -met his there would be nothing to conceal. Her anger and her dislike -were deep and sincere. She answered in a low tone, but the tone and -manner revealed a repugnance of whose existence there could be no doubt. - -"Do not speak to me again; ever. Do you hear?" - -"Yes, I hear." - -"I mean it." - -With a quivering hand she turned the knob, entered the house and shut -the door behind her. - -That Ruth meant all she said was soon made clear to Cyrus--very clear -indeed. Two days later--after giving her time to recover--he came to -her aunt's house with a little bouquet of flowers, hopefully gathered -by his own hands in his own garden. With it was a note, an eloquent -little plea for forgiveness, so humble and so sincere as to soften a -heart of granite. He knocked at the front door, and waited. At last--it -might have been a year that he waited--the door was opened. - -"Good morning, Stella." - -"Good morning, Cyrus." - -Stella was the daughter of Abner Phillips, the harness maker, and she -and Ruth and Cyrus had been playmates together in the old days at the -red school house. The little harness business had suffered--even more -than other things--with the decline of Longfields, and had finally -expired. Stella had been out at service for the last few years. She was -an angular maiden with thin lips and sharp eyes. - -"Will you please take this note and the flowers to Ruth, Stella, and -ask if I can see her?" - -"Yes, of course, won't you come in?" - -"No, thank you. I'll just wait here." - -On the doorstep he waited, but not long; Stella quickly returned with -the note and the flowers. - -She seemed embarrassed. "Ruth says she--she----" - -"Out with it, Stella." - -"She says she won't see you." - -"Won't see me! Is that just what she said?" - -The maiden hesitated. As a friend of both and strictly neutral, her -position was awkward. - -"Why--yes." - -"Just what did she say, Stella?" - -"She said, give him back his flowers and his note and tell him not to -come again." - -This was clear to the dullest lover. And the words cut deeper still -as he saw in the face of the sharp eyed ambassadress an impressible -gleam of pity--or exultation--he could not tell which. Cyrus blushed -like a girl. For a moment his drowsy eyes gazed blindly at Stella, -then at the flowers and the note as if trying to realize what had -happened. The effort was painful. The flowers seemed to be jubilant in -their gayety, and jeering at him. He had believed, until this moment, -that he was prepared for the worst. He had also believed, from his -knowledge of women in history and fiction that they changed their minds -with ease--in short, that honest lovers never need despair. This blow -seemed to paralyze his senses. But Pride came to his rescue. It made -him realize the degradation of appearing a fool before Stella. So, -collecting his scattered wits he raised his head and smiled upon the -waiting maiden. There was a quivering of the lip, however, as he said -in a manner laboriously offhand--and, of course, unsuccessful: - -"Oh, well, I must try again. Thank you, Stella. Good-by." - -As he reached the gate she saw him toss the flowers to the ground. - -His state of mind as he walked blindly along the village street, -beneath the arching elms, could not be described in articulate -language. Sorrow, anger, humiliation, all struggled for control. -Resignation was not among them. So Ruth was really in earnest. If she -hated and despised him, why live? This tumult within, while it numbed -his senses--and might lead to tragedy--provided mirth for others. -Just in front of the store a group of children ran across his path. -They were followed, slowly, by a large Newfoundland dog, a well-known -character in the village. He officiated, as is customary among dogs, -as guardian and boon companion to children, all of whom he loved. His -name was Major. He belonged to little Jason Howard, but he was on terms -of intimacy with every child in Longfields. Major happened to stroll -across the sidewalk just in front of Cyrus. The discarded lover, blind -to outward things, collided with him. Always a gentleman and never -forgetting his manners, Cyrus stopped, and--Ruth being the only thing -in his mind--he raised his cap and bowed politely. - -"I beg your pardon. It was my fault. Excuse me." - -And all with a sober face. The children laughed, supposing Cyrus was -being funny for their amusement. But never in his life had Cyrus felt -less like being funny. Soberly he walked away not even hearing their -laughter. - -After this interview with Major he at once relapsed into the Cańon -of Despair. For his was the agony of a man of honor who feels he has -committed a disgraceful act, and has lost, for all time, the respect -and good opinion of the being whose affection he valued above all other -things. - -It seemed but a moment after leaving Major that he found himself -standing before two women and saying "how do you do"--or something -equally significant. With a mighty effort to ignore the past--and the -future--he recognized the two elderly maidens as Miss Fidelia Allen and -Miss Anita Clement. They had stopped and were passing the time of day -with him. He realized, blindly, that Miss Clement had opened a book and -was telling him about it. Miss Clement had the faculty of expressing -a barren idea in a wealth of language. So, while the listener's -drowsy--and now dreaming--eyes rested on the speaker's lips he was -seeing, not Miss Clement's face, but a face more threatening, yet of -greater interest. As to the effect of Miss Clement's well chosen words -on the listener's far away mind, the sound from her lips might have -been the murmuring of pines. And as for The Only Woman in the world, -if other women had changed their minds why not this one? He recalled -the look in her eyes when---- - -"Do tell us what you think of it--just how you feel about it, Cyrus?" - -As the wild horse of the prairies is suddenly jerked to earth by a -lasso, so came back Cyrus. - -"Oh--oh--very well, indeed, thank you. Never better." - -"I meant about this new thought from the Orient. Just how deeply it -impresses you. Just where, among the great thinkers, you would place -Rub-a Shah Lagore." - -"That's it exactly! Rubbish galore! Couldn't express it better. -Somebody described all that stuff as transcendental flim-flam." -And he smiled his most winning smile--a smile of sympathy, of fine -intelligence and a lively interest in the conversation. - -But Miss Clement stiffened a little, and frowned. "Do you feel that -way?" - -"Possibly you don't know Rub-a Shah Lagore," said Miss Fidelia, more -gently. - -"Know him? Oh, yes," said Cyrus. "I know him. That is, I think I met -him. Was it in Cambridge?" - -"I doubt it," said Miss Clement, "as he died about fifteen hundred." - -"Fifteen hundred!" Cyrus smiled, nodded and tried to appear at ease. -"Still I may have met him in a previous incarnation." - -Then, apropos of incarnations, Miss Clement discoursed on the Oriental -mind, on matters psychic, philosophic, mystic and occult. And as she -talked, and drifted hither and thither on a sea of words, Cyrus floated -off in his own direction, and was recalling once again the look in -Ruth's eyes--that mingling of anger and contempt when Miss Clement -again suddenly brought him back to the village street. - -"Don't you think so yourself?" - -Cyrus pulled himself together. "Er--well--perhaps I don't quite -understand you." - -"Do you know of any richer period in human thought? Any greater age?" - -"Any greater age? No, certainly not. You mean fifteen hundred years? -It certainly beats all records. That is, of course, all human records. -Elephants, parrots and turtles, I believe, live to a green old age, but -nothing like----" - -Just what happened after that Cyrus did not remember. He found himself -walking home with clear memories of Ruth, intermingled with blurred -but painful impressions of two maiden ladies, frowning in surprise and -annoyance as they said good-by and turned away. - -Of one thing only was he certain: that in the utterance of senseless -words he had surpassed all previous records, ancient or modern. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -XVIII - -THE CAŃON OF DESPAIR - - -As to human wisdom, the best that can be said is that some of us are -less crazy than others. Also, that the habitually foolish person, -he who is foolish by preference--or by unalterable Fate--is less -disturbing than your usually sensible friend who suddenly becomes -fatuous. - -This was realized by Joanna during the next few days. Cyrus caused her -serious alarm. On his new and larger air craft he worked with such -feverish haste that he forgot to eat or go to bed until reminded of -those habits. In the matter of eating he seemed to have lost all memory -as to when or how to do it. He poured tea instead of maple syrup on -his rice cakes; he recognized no difference in flavor between salt and -powdered sugar, marmalade or mustard. Joanna's strawberry shortcake, -the very best in the world--and his favorite dish--he regarded with -unseeing eyes and forgot to eat it. His reply to nearly all her demands -for information on whatever subject, was a smiling "Certainly, of -course." - -But these were trifles. In his cup of bitterness there still were -dregs: and sleepless Fate had not forgotten them. The cup was to be -emptied. Late one afternoon, three days after the rebuff to his note, -his flowers and himself, he was returning from Springfield alone in his -motor. About a mile from Longfields, where the road ran through some -woods, he saw a figure on ahead, walking toward the village. It was a -female figure, short, slight, erect, and moving with a light and rather -jaunty step. It wore a continental hat, a white shirt waist and a white -skirt. He recognized this person at first glance, ran his car ahead of -her a short distance, then stopped at the side of the road, got out and -walked back to meet her. This time there was no elaborate salutation _ŕ -la Grande Monarch_. It was a simple raising of his cap and a tentative, -humble minded greeting. - -"Good day, Ruth." - -"Good day, Cyrus." - -She smiled, but the smile brought no sunshine to his heart; a -perfunctory smile of duty and good manners, such as might have -greeted any other human animal. And as she stood there, against the -dark background of the woods, calm, cold, beautiful, and oh! so far -away!--he saw aversion in her face and in every line of the rigid -little figure. - -In a low, uncertain voice he spoke. "So you will never forgive me?" - -For a moment she looked away, beyond him, along the road toward the -village. "I forgive you a great deal. I forgive your taking me by force -and against my will from a welcome refuge where I was looking forward -to a peaceful, happy life. But the greater wrong you have done me, the -irreparable injury--that is harder to forgive." - -"Irreparable injury? What do you mean, Ruth?" - -Her eyebrows went up. "Indeed! You really do not know what I mean?" - -"On my honor I do not." - -"I mean my reputation--the loss of my good name." - -"Oh, Ruth! Why you--oh--don't say that!" - -Calmly, but with an obvious effort at self control she answered: - -"Do you think there is no gossip in Longfields, no comment on my -unexpected arrival? Do you think an unmarried woman can travel about -the world alone with a young man as I did, and keep her good name?" - -"I never thought of it--in that way. On my honor--I did not." - -"Do you know of any other respectable young woman of your acquaintance -who has done anything like it?" - -"But it was all my doing. You couldn't help it. Don't they all know -that?" - -"No. Why should they know it? Will they believe that you, whom they -have known from boyhood, whom they respect and like, would carry me -off by force, entirely against my will?" Then with a bitter little -laugh: "Oh, no! They are not so simple! And some woman has started a -story that we----" Her face became crimson and she covered it for a -moment with her hands--"Oh, I can't bear to think of it." - -Cyrus closed his eyes. His head drooped. "I never thought of all that. -I was stupid. I can see it now. I don't blame you for hating me." - -Ruth went on, speaking with nervous haste. "A pleasanter bit of scandal -never happened in this village. I could not bear to live here. It would -kill me to live here." - -"You are not going away!" - -"Indeed I am!" - -"Where?" - -"To Worcester, to earn my living as a nurse." - -"Listen, Ruth. Let me do something, no matter what. Let me take you, or -send you back to the Convent." - -"The Convent! The Convent!" she repeated, and her cheeks reddened. "Do -you think the Convent a refuge for women who leave it as I did?--for -women who elope with--oh! It's for better women than that! They would -never allow me within its gates." - -"Then let me atone in some way." - -"Indeed! And how?" - -"In any way you say--there's all my money--take some of it--all of it. -Not as a gift, but in some business way. Let me buy something at a----" - -"Clever thought! Regild my reputation with Cyrus Alton's money!" - -"Then marry me. Be my wife, only in name. I swear to you--I--will never -see you if you wish it. Or--or trouble you in any way. Only let me do -something. I had no idea of--of what--of what all this meant to you." - -"Your wife!" she laughed a scornful, tragic, broken-hearted little -laugh. "Never in this world. Never! Never that!" - -She turned and walked away. - -He walked beside her. "Please listen. I will do anything you say. I -know I deserve it all, but that afternoon at the convent I was not -myself. After what happened I was all wrought up. My brain----" - -She stopped, turned about and faced him. - -"Yes, there is one thing you can do. Leave me now. And let us not be -seen together again--ever." - -For a brief moment they stood confronting each other. And Cyrus -looked deep into the eyes that once had been his guiding stars; the -friendly eyes in whose depths his boy heart had sought--and never in -vain--encouragement, or consolation. Now, he was finding in their -contemptuous beauty only the cold ashes of their childhood devotion. - -Then, once more, she turned her back upon him. Erect and with decisive -steps, the little figure departed. He stood watching her as she -walked--walking out of his life. In his brain and in his heart was a -numbing pain--the knowledge that his highest hopes were dead--killed, -and by himself! - -There and there he made a decision, a decision of vital import to -himself. And why not? Who in the world, except Joanna would mourn, or -even miss him? If there be such a thing as consolation when hope is -dead, he found it in a great resolve. - -As he passed her in his car he raised his cap and murmured - - "_Morituri te salutamus_." - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -XIX - -A YOUNG MAN TALKS - - -Ruth was in earnest when she told Cyrus of her intention to become a -nurse. Some experience in that line, while in Europe, had fitted her -for the work and she found little difficulty in securing a position -in a Worcester Hospital. Possibly her prepossessing appearance was a -help. The Superintendent, being human, was not immune, perhaps, to the -influence of an interesting personality, especially in combination with -an attractive face and voice and figure. - -After this interview at the hospital, about the middle of the day, she -took a return train for Springfield. - -When she entered the car at the Worcester Station, and found a vacant -seat, she gave no special attention to the two men in the seat just -behind her own. She merely noticed that the carefully dressed young -man nearest the aisle had an intelligent wide awake face, and that his -companion--next the window--was suffering from a cold in the head of -aggravated dimensions. His aqueous eyes and swollen nose, his sneezes -and his busy handkerchief told the familiar and unromantic drama of a -mucous membrane at war with its owner. - -The weather this day--a week or so after the interview with Cyrus--was -cloudy, damp and otherwise depressing. She felt, of course, -gratification in the success of her mission at the hospital. Her -thoughts, however, were not entirely rosy as she looked from the -car window on this homeward journey, gazing absently on the sunless -landscape. She had much to think about, and often, during this little -journey from Worcester she tried vainly to escape from unwelcome -memories. At the mention of a familiar name, however, these wandering -thoughts were centered suddenly on the conversation of the two men in -the seat behind her. - -"Alton, Cyrus Alton. Guess you've met him." - -"Yez, I thig zo. Kide of sleeby eyes, hasn'd he?" - -"Yep. His eyes are sleepy, but, gee whiz! He does things." - -"Whad thigs?" - -"Oh, anything--if it's impossible." - -"Didn'd he bake a lod of bunny all of a zudden?" - -"Bet your life he did! Made it while you wait." - -"How budge?" - -"God knows." - -"How did he do id?" - -"God knows that too:--He and Alton. You can hear anything. Some say a -rich widow, others, a pirate's cave. Perhaps it's just a friendly tip -from his Partner." - -"Who is his bardner?" - -"The Almighty." - -"You bead he is bious?" - -"Nixy not! He's a scientist, and science and piety don't seem to -cuddle much. He has discovered--or his Big Partner has told him--some -secret of electricity that is just the humpingest thing out of jail. -It's going to revolutionize the whole human outfit; business, travel, -transportation. As to little things like manufactures in peace and -wholesale destruction in war, why, we've got to begin all over again. -You just can't digest it. And it's so simple that you laugh when you -think of it." - -"Doe! Really?" - -"Yep; that's no exaggeration." - -"Thad's inderesdig. I have heard vague rubers aboud id bud nothing like -thad. Just whad is id?" - -"Just what is it. Well, that's an easy question to ask. When he blabs -his secret then we'll all know. But he says it's so simple that it's -sure to be discovered some day." - -"I spoze you doe him breddy well." - -"Yep, in a way. He orders his electric stuff through us. A year ago -when he was so poor he used to foot it to save trolley fare the boss -trusted him for twelve hundreds dollars' worth of radium." - -"Good for the boss! He was a zpord. Did he ever get his bunny bag?" - -"Twice over. Oh, Alton didn't forget it. He's as straight as a string." - -"Well, he bay be all ride in sub ways bud he busd be jusd aboud grazy -to sdard on thad jourdy." - -"Oh, I dunno. He has done some big stunts already. And he's pretty -level headed." - -"Yez, bud id seebs like suizide to be. How var away is Bars, eddyway?" - -"Oh, just a step. I believe the astronomers call it about forty-eight -millions of miles." - -"Vorty-eight billions of biles? Whew!" - -"No, forty-eight millions--not billions." - -The Rose Cold tried to laugh. "Yez I doe id iz--but with thiz invernal -drouble I gan'd prodounce by ebs." - -"Of course; beg your pardon." - -"Thad's all ride. But dell be, is he really goig to dry vor id?" - -"Sure thing. He may have started already." - -Here both men noticed in a careless way, a movement of the shoulders of -the girl in front of them when a hand went nervously to her face. And -it so happened that the Rose Cold's next words were the expression of -her own thoughts when he said: - -"The bad's a vool!" - -"No," said the younger man; "he's not a fool. He has done a lot of -figuring over it,--and experimenting. You see his machine is too good -to be true. It can shoot through space at the same rate as electric -waves, or waves of light." - -"And how vasd is thad?" - -"About a hundred and eighty thousand miles a second." - -"Doe!" - -"Yep." - -"And you really believe id?" - -"Sure." - -"Id's sibly imbossible." - -"I don't blame you for thinking so. But that's just why Alton likes it. -If it was possible it wouldn't interest him. Miracles are his daily -food. Gad, he's a wonder!" - -"A hundred and eighty thouzand biles a zegond! Doe--thad's doo buch vor -bee." - -"No wonder you don't believe it. It surely is going some. Beats oxen." - -"Aboud how log would id taig him to ged there ad thad rade?" - -Here came a silence while the younger man did some figuring. "About -five seconds. But of course no human being, even in an air-tight -cylinder, could keep his head--or anything else, at that rate. He -allows about twelve hours to get there." - -"Dwelve hours! Vorty-eight billion biles in twelve hours! Why zo zlow?" - -"Well, he's got to go slow through the six or seven miles of our -atmosphere. Then, he doesn't know what sort of atmosphere surrounds -Mars. So that'll take time like entering an unknown harbor. To be -really safe he'll have to jog along slowly--on an average of four or -five million miles an hour." - -The Rose Cold laughed. "Beads vairy dales, doesn'd id?" - -"To a frazzle." - -"But the bravesd bad in the world gan'd go all day withoud breathig." - -"True enough. But Alton has the same system of oxygen cylinders as the -U-boats--only better. More condensed and lasts longer. Uses same air -more times without deteriorating." - -"Well, whadever habbens, he busd be glever." - -"Clever! He beats the devil." - -"Will he ever gum bag, Jibby?" - -"Dunno." - -"I subbose the gradest danger is in being hid by a medeoride. I -understand those rogs are always shoodig about in spaze." - -"Yep; and all the way in size from a liver pill to a state house. But -that isn't what'll knock him out." - -"Berhabs dod, bud I shouldn'd gare do be there iv one habbened to hid -him." - -"Right you are. He'd have about as much show as a bottle of ginger -ale colliding with a locomotive. But astronomers say they are not -so very numerous. What he's most afraid of himself is some sudden -electric disturbance in his own machine that will put his own nervous -system out of commission. You see nobody really knows what is going -on in space. And if his nerves or lungs or brain go back on him, in -anyway--Ping!--he's a goner." - -After a pause the Rose Cold spoke in a more serious tone. - -"Well, I taig off my had to him. It's a big thig, thad zord of gourage." - -"I should say! And he knows himself there isn't one chance in a hundred -of his ever touching this little earth again." - -Here the attention of both men was drawn to the girl in front of them, -who suddenly started from her seat--with both hands pressed hard -against her face. She stood for a moment as if in pain, or under some -mental disturbance. Then, sinking back into her seat, she appeared to -be looking quietly out of the window during the short remainder of -the journey. Although her action caused them no further interest, nor -curiosity, it served to divert their talk from Cyrus Alton--a subject -apparently exhausted--to other matters of no interest to Ruth Heywood. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -XX - -ANOTHER MESSAGE - - -When Ruth left the train and took the stage for Longfields her spirit -was in revolt--in revolt against herself, against Cyrus and against the -progress of the vehicle. But any vehicle, however fast, would have been -too slow on that afternoon. She left the conveyance at Cyrus Alton's -driveway. This was her first visit to the Alton's home since her sudden -departure, so many years ago. And now, as she walked toward the house, -almost every foot of ground, every object in the spacious yard, the -old maples and the house itself, seemed accusing her of treason and -of heartless murder. From every side, however, came pleasant memories -of bygone days,--like flowers in a forsaken garden. And all of Cyrus! -Never was a yard so full of history. And now that Cyrus was gone--gone -forever, driven from the world by her own cruelty,--her over sensitive -spirit writhed beneath the stings of conscience. Every recollection -seemed to increase her guilt. Hardest to bear, in all this vista of the -past, was the clear, undying fact that the cherubic, sleepy eyed little -boy always stood between herself and trouble. - -These memories overwhelmed her. There was the old maple in whose shade -she and Drowsy played keeping house. They pretended Zac was President -of the United States who had dropped in for dinner. Only gingerbread -and sour grapes were served and Drowsy gave her the biggest half of the -gingerbread because she, also, was a guest. Zac, always loyal, ate one -or two of the green grapes just because Cyrus did. And the stone wall -that saved their lives;--at least, she thought so when Mr. Randall's -horse came snorting toward them across the field, on the other side. -He seemed close at their heels when Cyrus boosted her up and pushed -her over before he climbed up himself. He pushed so hard--against that -part of the body on which we sit--that she landed on her face, and the -short, stiff blades of grass that had just been mowed, cut the inside -of her nose. She tried to smile as she remembered, with a gulp, that -although he was badly scared himself he was the last to climb over the -wall. Yes, he always gave her first chance at everything--in peace or -war! - -And there the well, where she and Susie Jordan had a quarrel one Sunday -after Church, and Susie threw a dipperful of water on Ruth's head. -It spoiled her new hat and she burst into tears. Then Cyrus walked up -to Susie--Ruth could see him now as if it were yesterday--made one of -his lowest bows, as if to apologize in advance, then slapped her hard -on both cheeks. After slapping her he backed away a few steps and made -yet another profound obeisance, as a judge, after performing a painful -duty, might salute a prisoner of high degree. - -But now she was in too great haste to linger long over memories, or -anything else. She hurried on to the house. Tearful, smiling, but on -the very edge of sobs, she rang the door bell. Too impatient to wait -she entered and walked into the sitting room. The same old sitting -room, and changed but little since she saw it last. On the walls the -same green paper, just a little more faded, perhaps, at certain places -where the morning sun had loitered. Almost covering the center table -were books, papers and magazines. - -Joanna entered. The greetings were cordial. Then, for a few moments -they sat facing each other, Ruth in an arm chair, Joanna on the old -sofa. - -In a casual way, Ruth remarked: - -"I suppose Cyrus is out in the old barn, hard at work on his new -machine." - -"Not now. It is all finished." - -"Is it there now,--the machine?" - -"No, he went away in it." - -"When did he go?" - -"Last night." - -"Where has he gone?" - -"I don't know." - -Ruth leaned back in her chair and the color left her face. - -"Oh, Miss Ruth, are you ill?" - -"No, no! I am not ill. But didn't he say when he was coming back?" - -"He said he might not be back for some days. But he has often done -that." - -Ruth suddenly jumped from her chair, began walking about the room, and -exclaimed: - -"He's a contemptible thing!" - -"Not Cyrus?" - -"Yes, Cyrus. And what a fool! Oh, what a fool!" - -Into Joanna's placid, serious face came a look of amazement. - -"You don't mean to say, Miss Ruth, that, Cyrus--is -a--contemptible--thing and--and a fool!" - -"That's just exactly what I mean. He's a fool--a contemptible, weak, -half-hearted, easily discouraged, stupid fool!" - -Ruth was clearly excited. She spoke rapidly and with vehemence, -marching to and fro as if lashed to fury by some strange obsession. As -Joanna watched the little figure she could hardly believe that this was -the ever gentle Ruth Heywood of her acquaintance. - -Ruth went on: "Not a speck of perseverance! And what a coward! I never -suspected he was such a hopeless coward!" - -"Cyrus a coward! Oh, but--Miss Ruth, you really----" - -"Of course he's a coward! Why has he run away? Do brave men run away? -No. Cowards run away. A mean, contemptible thing. That covers it. A -contemptible cowardly act by a contemptible, cowardly man. And so -ungrateful! Even as a boy he was ungrateful." - -Now, to Joanna, who had known Cyrus intimately since the age of seven, -he was the one perfect thing in creation. Morally he was an example -for the angels; mentally the wonder of the age. So, being a somewhat -literal person, these words came like stabs from a dagger and struck -deep into her own heart. But she answered--more in sadness than in -anger: - -"I really can't imagine anybody thinking Cyrus ungrateful." - -"Well, I do! He has no real love for anybody but himself. He thinks -only of himself; only of himself!" - -"Why, Miss Ruth, when Mrs. Eagan was laid up for nearly a whole summer, -years ago, Cyrus took her a bowl of ice cream himself, every Sunday, -after our own dinner. We had ice cream once a week. He was nothing but -a boy then, but he----" - -"Of course he did! Why not? Any boy would carry ice cream--just for the -sake of holding it." - -Joanna shook her head. "No. All boys are not like that." - -Here Ruth turned fiercely upon her. "And how do you know he did? He -probably ate it himself before he got to Mrs. Eagan's. He would tell -you he didn't, of course. He's an awful liar and always was. You know -that, Joanna, as well as I do." - -"Liar! No, no, Miss Ruth! You don't know him. He got entirely over -that, years ago. He's as truthful as anybody. Long ago, before he went -away to school, his father made him ashamed of his lies and----" - -"Oh, for a time perhaps! Bad boys don't become good over night." - -"But, Miss Ruth, please listen. You only knew him when you were both -very young. He really cured himself. He has not lied since. He was too -young to know better. But even with his lying he was always a good boy." - -"A good boy! Ha! He was not a good boy. I knew him better than you did. -He was like all other boys and no boys are good. They are nothing but -little pirates, prize fighters, screaming, noisy Indians, because they -are savages themselves. They have no honor. They worship criminals -and always want the criminal to escape, because they are criminals -themselves. And Cyrus was just like the others. Good indeed! He was -always evil minded." - -"Evil minded! Cyrus evil minded!" - -Ruth stopped, and stood before Joanna. "I tell you he's bad--just bad. -As a boy he was bad, as a man he is bad--treacherous, cowardly, mean -spirited and absolutely dishonorable. And that's why I hate him!" - -For a moment, with angry eyes and quivering lips she stood looking -down into the other woman's puzzled face. Then, dropping to her knees, -she buried her face in Joanna's lap. - -"Oh, I am so unhappy! So unhappy! Let me die!" - -Joanna understood. Although unemotional herself she knew how to -sympathize with the passion torn woman at her knees. Her own calm -spirit and soothing words had their effect, and Ruth was soon herself -again. - -"And now, dearie," said Joanna, "I am going to bring you a cup of tea." - -Alone in the green sitting room Ruth seated herself beside the center -table. This table held, with other things, several books and papers, -one or two mechanical drawings, some magazines and books. One of these -books was lying open, just before her. A paragraph at the top of one of -the open pages was marked in pencil. Being a scientific book Cyrus must -have marked it. At that moment any thought of interest to him appealed -to Ruth as something sanctified by his absence, a special message to -herself. Besides, that the book should be lying open at this particular -page seemed to her over wrought spirit as if placed there by Cyrus -himself for her to read. - -Had she stopped to think she would have known the open book was -accidental, as she was the last person whom Cyrus could expect to visit -him. But Fate and Providence do stranger things than fiction dares -invent. - -Carefully she read the marked passage, in a reverent spirit, as she -would read a farewell message from a departed friend. It said: - -"All sounds from earth are drifting forever into space. A strain of -music will reach, in time, the most distant star. The music of the -spheres is not an empty phrase. We know that wherever light will travel -those waves that carry light through space will carry sound. Messages -from other planets, for all we know, are reaching us to-day, but we are -not attuned to hear them. Our own little song, or prayer, may reach the -farthest star, but for its reception the sender and recipient must be -in true accord." - -With quivering hands she clutched the book, held it up before her eyes, -and read the words again. Then she dropped the book upon the table and -started up. In her eyes was a new light. - -"But for its reception," she repeated, "the sender and recipient must -be in true accord!" - -In true accord! Yes, she and Drowsy were in true accord, even as -children. If there was one person in this world specially endowed -by Providence to receive such a message, surely it was Drowsy; he -who received even the unspoken thoughts of others! She recalled her -wonderment as a child when her whispered message was understood by him, -at his own home, nearly a mile away. It seemed to her then,--and now--a -supernatural gift. And if this author were correct no distance, however -vast, would be an obstacle. - -When Joanna returned with the tea she found her patient again in a -state of excitement, but excitement of another kind. This time it was -the thrill of a new hope; the exhilaration of a great joy. - - * * * * * - -Late that night, when this world--and other worlds, it seemed--were -silent, Ruth went out into the darkness. Down at the further end of -the long garden, she stood, for a time, looking up into the heavens. -The storm had passed. Slowly, from the west, great clouds were -drifting across a black but starry sky. She shuddered at the thought -of a human being far out in that frigid, infinite waste, a helpless -wanderer,--dead perhaps,--and driven by her own act! - -Her eyes sought vainly to delve into the solemn spaces between the -stars. Who could believe a human voice or a thought could penetrate -those black, appalling depths? But she remembered the sentence, - -"All sounds from earth are drifting forever into space." - -Then, looking up toward the ruddy planet, and putting her one absorbing -thought into fewest words, she said in a low voice, but clearly spoken: - -"Cyrus, come back. I have always loved you." - -Three times she repeated it; and each time with an overflowing heart. - - * * * * * - -If, among the undiscovered forces between other worlds and ours, there -moves, like waves of light, a psychic power intensified by human love, -repentance and devotion, then this woman's message should reach the -uttermost limits of celestial space. Her very soul was in it. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -XXI - -ABOVE THE CLOUDS - - -Ruth's first night on duty at the hospital, ten days later, was -eventful. - -She had the care of two patients, each in a room by himself, with an -open door between. One of these patients was a man with a broken arm, a -displaced rib, a bandaged head and wandering brain. He made no trouble -and was perfectly quiet, except an occasional mumbling to himself. - -The other patient, the one who appealed more strongly to her -sympathies, was a boy about fifteen. Both legs had been broken in an -automobile collision and he was suffering from internal injuries. In -spite of constant pain his courage never weakened. He was always in -good spirits and trying his best to smile. His gratitude for any -attention went straight to the heart of his nurse:--"That pretty little -nurse with the sad face" as one surgeon described her. - -Ruth was much impressed by Dr. Gladwin, a tall, heavy man, with a -bushy head of the whitest hair. His eyes were threatening, his glance -warlike, all in amusing contrast, however, to his friendly, cheerful -voice, his gentle manners and his unfailing sympathy. He said to her -that evening, after giving his instructions: - -"We have not been able to define precisely this boy's injuries. The -constant pain about his chest is a bad sign, but we are hoping for the -best. His legs will be as good as ever." - -While these words were spoken Ruth looked across the room toward the -patient. His eyes were closed. The round boyish face was drawn with -pain. At that moment his eyes opened and he returned Ruth's look with -a smile. It was a smile of friendliness and courage, the resolute, -pathetic courage of youth clinging to life. The look itself and the -tale it told brought a sudden moistness to the eyes of the new nurse. -Then she followed Dr. Gladwin into the adjoining room. - -Standing by the bedside of the other patient she looked down upon a man -whose eyes were partly covered by the bandage about his head. The pale -face had the somewhat disreputable appearance that goes with a scrubby, -unshaven chin. - -"This man," said the doctor, "has, as you know, a broken arm and rib, -with an injury to his head. He remains unconscious. The first few days -he made no effort to speak. But now he murmurs something at intervals; -always the same words, I am told. The effort to speak is a favorable -sign in this case, as it indicates a returning memory. He will probably -recover." - -A few further instructions as to her own duties, and he departed. - -Ruth found the boy more greedy for companionship than the unconscious -patient--which was not surprising. No human being could be braver -than this boy. Yearning for sympathy he liked to have his hand held -by this new nurse. As the night wore on he told her in a fragmentary -way, between periods of pain, of his parents in San Francisco, of his -ambitions, if he ever recovered. He also gave details of his accident -last Saturday, just how he was thrown from the motor when they collided -with the other car. - -But the new nurse did not neglect the less interesting patient in the -next room. He seemed like one in a deep, unending sleep, except for the -occasional smile that came to his lips and the muttered words--whatever -they were. - -About two o'clock in the morning the boy closed his eyes and he, -also, slept. Ruth arranged the covering about his neck and shoulders -then stepped gently into the adjoining room. For a moment she stood -at the bedside of the unconscious man with the scrubby chin. He lay -motionless, and in a slumber so deep, so silent, that it seemed to Ruth -he could easily pass away and none be wiser. Then, for a time, she -stood at the open window, looking out into the peaceful summer night -and up at the stars. Her thoughts, when alone these days, were always -in the past, and they were heart breaking. To-night, even the rising -moon, although in its fullest beauty, seemed a perfect symbol of her -own future--a world of dust and ashes. - -At last, with a sigh of resignation--a sigh of despair and buried -hopes--she left the window. Again she stood beside the unconscious and -less interesting patient; he of the bandaged head and scrubby chin. As -she was turning away she noticed a movement of his lips--the beginning -of the periodic smile. She felt a sudden curiosity to hear the coming -words. If, as the doctor said, they were always the same, they might -be a message he had wished to send, important to wife or parents, that -could lead to his identification. Besides she had a strong desire to -learn what words or what thought behind the words--could bring so much -happiness, even momentarily, to a half conscious spirit. - -The light in the room, while softened by shades, was clear enough to -reveal the uncovered portion of his face. And, as she looked more -carefully, the face was less "common" than she had judged from the -unshaven chin. She leaned over the bed, her face not far from his, -and listened. Through the open window came no sound from the sleeping -city; only the pale light from the rising moon; that cold, dead world -of dust and ashes. It may have been the solitude and the silence of the -hour that brought to Ruth a feeling of awe--almost of guilt at this -intrusion upon the privacy of another's thoughts; secrets, perhaps, -of a defenseless brain. As she was wondering what sort of accident had -brought him there the blissful smile became more pronounced. Although -his eyes were partly covered by the overhanging bandage it was clear -that the dormant spirit within was stirred by memories of a supreme -happiness, of a transcendent joy that no physical pain could extinguish. - -Further still she bent over, until her face was near his own. - -Then, through every nerve of brain and body, she felt a sensation of -mingled awe, of terror, of bewilderment, as if she were suddenly in -touch with another world, when she heard, hardly above a whisper: - -"Cyrus, come back. I have--always--loved you." - - * * * * * - -Breathless, as in a trance, Ruth gazed at the lips, where lingered--but -slowly fading, as if reluctant to pass away--the expression of a great -content. The brief liberty of a rapturous thought. Then back into the -darkness. - - * * * * * - -Needless to say that Cyrus Alton was not neglected during his -convalescence. And Dr. Gladwin's prophecy was correct. Cyrus not only -recovered but his recovery, after once regaining consciousness, was -surprisingly rapid. So rapid that the "little nurse with the sad face" -threw aside her sadness, as if waking from a dream, and became the -happiest and most inspiriting person in her vicinity. - -On a certain afternoon, when the convalescent was first allowed to talk -as much as he wished, he told his story. And no better audience could -be desired than the one then seated on the bed beside him, and quite -near the speaker--perhaps to save him the effort of raising his voice. -The day was warm, the windows open. Faintly through the closed blinds -came the murmur of the city, from beyond the spacious grounds of the -hospital. - -The story was simply told. He started at night for the red planet. He -got there and he landed. The air seemed much like ours. But he found -himself in a world quite different from his own. All was architecture; -temples, towers and enormous viaducts fading away into the horizon, -as far as the eye could see. And everything was tall and slender. The -trees were very high with branches pointing upward like poplars, and -always formally laid out in avenues, or in geometric patterns. And the -color! It was like looking at an endless city through orange glasses. -The few people he saw had larger heads than ours, more like children, -but like children with very short legs. They were surprisingly light on -their feet. He was surprised at their high jumps until he remembered -that a man who weighs two hundred pounds on the earth weighs but -seventy-five pounds on Mars. He really saw but little, however, for -although he had tested the atmosphere he found, after looking about -him a moment, that the air, while pleasant enough to breath, was -affecting his nerves and brain, almost like laughing gas. Then, as -he stood there, and began to realize his danger, the wonderful thing -happened! - -Like a soft whisper it came to his ears; gently but clearly, the words -that made him forget the things about him,--and all else, for that -matter. He thought, at first, the lighter air was affecting his nerves -and exciting his imagination; that his own brain was fooling him. For -he knew, or thought he knew, that such a thing was impossible. But as -he stood there, wondering, hoping, trying hard to believe it might be -possible, the message came again, in the same words. Then he knew it -was no delusion. He knew it was no invention of his own, nor the cry -from his own heart of its one desire. - -"And, oh, Ruthy, it was the best news that ever came to that planet!" - -After various remarks of a not impersonal nature from his audience, he -continued: - -"And to think of its getting there! I knew it was possible, -theoretically, but I didn't really believe it. Three times it came. -Then I wasted no more time in wondering. I clambered back into the -machine. Foreign countries had no further interest for me! - -"Foreign countries indeed!" and Ruth closed her eyes, and shuddered. - -"Well," the traveler continued, "I reached home at night, as you know." - -"Reached home!" - -He laughed. "That shows how relative all things are, doesn't it? By -home I meant the Earth. I traveled as fast as I dared for I wanted -to meet somebody at Longfields. Instead of coming down over North -America I found I was sailing up over the Eastern coast of Africa. -When at last I struck Massachusetts, I met a thunderstorm. Any fool -would know better than to stay out in it, but I was in a hurry to get -to Longfields--where I had important business--and I took a chance. I -was nearing Worcester when the storm struck me I had run into it, not -realizing how fast I was going." - -"Yes, yes--go on!" - -"Well, I shall never know just what happened. I don't even know what -became of the machine. The next thing I did know I was in this bed, and -you beside it. Until you spoke to me and I heard your voice I believed -I was dreaming." - -"What do you think did happen, Drowsy?" - -"I think a touch of lightning, an electric shock of some kind, knocked -me silly, burst the door open and sent me heels over head out of the -falling machine." - -Then Ruth told him how he was found in a field, the ground, not far -away, all dug up, a big tree splintered and a stone wall torn to pieces. - -"Yes, yes--it probably took a run for a high jump, went off into space -and is now about a thousand billion miles the other side of Neptune." - -"Thank heaven, it's gone!" exclaimed Ruth. And obeying a sudden -impulse she leaned over and kissed the happy man. - -At that moment Dr. Gladwin entered from the adjoining room. Quickly -Ruth straightened up and backed away, her cheeks redder than roses. - -The old doctor laughed, his face aglow with a boyish delight. "Don't -let me interrupt, for that's what makes the world go round. Doesn't it, -Mr. Alton?" - -"Yes, Doctor. It always has and it will, forever and forever." - -"True, indeed! And how far above science, electrical, medical and any -other kind, or any human invention--even yours." - -"There's no comparison," said the smiling patient. - -"And what a heaven-sent cure for a damaged head and arm and ribs!" - -"And a damaged heart," said Cyrus, waving a hand toward the rosy Ruth. -"It's more than a cure. It's a continuous miracle!" - -Here the much embarrassed Ruth interrupted: "Please don't think, Dr. -Gladwin, that----" - -"That you treat other patients as kindly? Oh, never!" - -"God forbid!" exclaimed Cyrus. - -"I want you to know," Ruth persisted, "that in September there is to be -a----" - -Dr. Gladwin nodded. "Wedding. Yes, I knew it." - -"You knew it!" - -"Several days ago." - -"Why, who told you?" - -"You both told me." - -"We both told you!" exclaimed nurse and patient as they stared first at -each other, then at the doctor. - -"Some days ago," said Dr. Gladwin, with a serious face and impressive -manner, "a certain nurse was waiting for me at my office--early in -the morning. She told me she had discovered the identity of a certain -patient. Her voice was tremulous. One hand she pressed tight against -her heart to silence its beating. She knew, as I did, that loud -reverberations might awaken sleeping neighbors. She had eyes. Possibly -you have noticed those eyes, Mr. Alton." - -"I live in them," said Cyrus. - -"Well, deep, down deep within those eyes I could see the Thing that -makes the world go round; the tender, unchanging glow that is life to a -broken lover." - -Here Cyrus smiled, nodded, gulped, started to say something and gave it -up. - -Dr. Gladwin continued. "She did not tell me she hoped that particular -patient would recover. She told me he _must_ recover. She made it clear -that nothing in this world, or in any other world, was to be considered -until that young man was out of danger." - -"Oh, how can you make fun of me!" protested Ruth. - -"Make fun of you! Make fun of the most sacred thing in human life!" - -"No, Ruth," said Cyrus, "he is not making fun of you. He is simply -reciting the most beautiful of all earthly poems." - -"Yes, he speaks truly," said the doctor: "the oldest in the world yet -always young. An entrancing poem, containing also the secret of the -young man with the broken head. But he hides his secret in a louder -way. He sings it to any listener--and all day long." - -"Oh, come now," from Cyrus. "I say, Doctor, you----" - -Ruth laughed. "Don't interrupt. Please go right on, Doctor. It's just -lovely!" - -Dr. Gladwin obeyed. "Metaphorically he engages an auditorium and a -military band to announce the coming tidings. Then, to the assembled -multitude, he shouts the joyful secret. But when alone with me, those -public methods are not necessary. If I mention, in a casual way, the -nurse with the eloquent eyes, the color rushes into his pale face, his -lips quiver, his eyes become moist and his pulse jumps and dances like -a thing possessed." - -Cyrus laughed and leaned back against his pillow. "Yes and ten times -more so when I'm in her presence and can see her." - -"Of course," said Dr. Gladwin, "a healthy, normal habit. Long life to -it! There's no better way to impart the ever welcome tidings 'I am in -love, and she's mine!' But what a tonic, this carefully guarded secret! -Never, since the world began was cure so swift." - -Then, in a more serious tone, but with his friendly smile: - -"And all deserved! To both of you has come the high reward of Courage -and Devotion." - -Ruth returned his smile, the color still in her cheeks. - -Cyrus closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of fathomless content. - -"It all seems too good to be true," he murmured. - - -[Illustration: THE END] - - - - - * * * * * * - - - - -Transcriber's note: - -Punctuation and possible typographical errors have been corrected. - -Archaic and variable spelling, including hyphenation, has been -preserved. - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DROWSY*** - - -******* This file should be named 53802-8.txt or 53802-8.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/5/3/8/0/53802 - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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- margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; - clear: both; -} - -hr.tb {width: 45%; - margin-left: 27.5%; - margin-right: 27.5%; -} -hr.chap {width: 65%; - margin-left: 17.5%; - margin-right: 17.5%; -} - -hr.r1 {width: 20%; - margin-left: 40%; - margin-right: 40%; -margin-top: 1em; - margin-bottom: 1em;} - - - -table { - margin-left: 5%; - margin-right: 5%; -} - - -.toc1 {font-size: .6em;text-align: right; - } -.toc1a {font-size: .6em; - text-align: right; - } - -.toc2 {font-size: .95em; - font-variant: small-caps; - } -.toc3 {font-size: .9em; - text-align: right; - } -.toc4 {font-size: .9em; - text-align: right; - padding-right:.7em; - } -.toi1 {font-size: 1em; - } -.toi2 {font-size: .6em; - text-align: right; - vertical-align: bottom - } -.toi2a {font-size: .6em; - text-align: right; - vertical-align: top; - } - -div.sign { - margin: 1em 10%; - border-style: solid; - padding: .5em; - } - - - -.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ - /* visibility: hidden; 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-} - - hr.full { width: 100%; - margin-top: 3em; - margin-bottom: 0em; - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; - height: 4px; - border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ - border-style: solid; - border-color: #000000; - clear: both; } - </style> -</head> -<body> -<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Drowsy, by John Ames Mitchell, Illustrated by -Angus Macdonall and John Ames Mitchell</h1> -<p>This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States -and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no -restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it -under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this -eBook or online at <a -href="http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you are not -located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this ebook.</p> -<p>Title: Drowsy</p> -<p>Author: John Ames Mitchell</p> -<p>Release Date: December 25, 2016 [eBook #53802]</p> -<p>Language: English</p> -<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> -<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DROWSY***</p> -<p> </p> -<h4>E-text prepared by Ralph<br /> - and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> - (<a href="http://www.pgdp.net">http://www.pgdp.net</a>)<br /> - from page images generously made available by<br /> - Internet Archive<br /> - (<a href="https://archive.org">https://archive.org</a>)</h4> -<p> </p> -<table border="0" style="background-color: #ccccff;margin: 0 auto;" cellpadding="10"> - <tr> - <td valign="top"> - Note: - </td> - <td> - Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive. See - <a href="https://archive.org/details/drowsyjam00mitciala"> - https://archive.org/details/drowsyjam00mitciala</a> - </td> - </tr> -</table> -<p> </p> -<hr class="full" /> -<p> </p> -<p> </p> -<p> </p> -<p> </p> - -<div class="ad"> -<p class="center">BY THE SAME AUTHOR</p> -<hr class="r1" /> - -<p class="p1">The Summer School of Philosophy at Mt. Desert</p> -<p class="p1">The Romance of the Moon</p> -<p class="p1">The Last American</p> -<p class="p1">"Life's" Fairy Tales</p> -<p class="p1">Amos Judd</p> -<p class="p1">That First Affair</p> -<p class="p1">Dr. Thorne's Idea</p> -<p class="p1">The Pines of Lory</p> -<p class="p1">The Villa Claudia</p> -<p class="p1">The Silent War</p> -<p class="p1">Pandora's Box</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_003.jpg" alt="" /> - <p class="caption">"A FANTASTIC, SOLEMN REGION"<span class="no-break">—<i>Page 208</i></span></p> -</div> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<h1>DROWSY</h1> - -<p class="front01">By</p> -<p class="front07">John Ames Mitchell</p> - - -<p class="front02"><i>Author of "The Last American," "Amos Judd,"<br /> -"Pines of Lory," "Pandora's Box," etc.</i></p> - -<p class="front03">WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY<br /> -ANGUS MACDONALL AND THE AUTHOR</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/colophon.png" alt="colophon" /> -</div> - - -<p class="front04">NEW YORK</p> - -<p class="front05">FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY</p> - -<p class="front06">PUBLISHERS</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - -<p class="front01"> -<i>Copyright, 1917, by</i><br /> -<span class="smcap">John Ames Mitchell</span><br /> -<br /></p> -<hr class="r1" /> - -<p class="front01"><i>All rights reserved, including that of translation<br /> -into foreign languages</i><br /> -</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[v]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2>To the Reader</h2> - - -<p>This is not a fairy tale.</p> - -<p>The wonders of to-day, we are told by scientists, -will be to-morrow the common things of daily life.</p> - -<p>Wireless telegraphy, it appears, is but the crude -beginning to a deeper knowledge of the mysteries -that surround us. Waves of thought, like waves of -light, obedient to our will, may supplant the spoken -word and the written message.</p> - -<p>And we learn that Space, the borderless abyss -through which we move, is vibrant with electric life. -But still unsolved is the mystery of the force that -holds the moon, for instance, to its orbit around the -earth. And it holds it with a mightier power than -bars of steel.</p> - -<p>If it be true that the human voice goes out into -space, on and forever, as other waves, why should -not a lover on a nearby planet receive the message -from an earthly maiden? If waves of thought keep -pace with waves of light, the call of a human heart -would surely reach him.</p> - -<p>This tale of Drowsy is the somewhat romantic narrative -of a woman and a reckless lover. An unusual -lover, to be sure, with a singular inheritance; but very -human—and with a full equipment of human faults<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[vi]</a></span> -and virtues. While his achievements may seem to us -incredible, the coming generation may regard them as -commonplace events.</p> - -<p>It was Pliny, the elder, who said, "Indeed, what -is there that does not appear marvelous when it -comes to our knowledge for the first time?"</p> - -<p>So, if this story of Drowsy seems a fairy tale, let -us remember that the Atlantic Cable would be a fairy -tale to Columbus.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<h2>CONTENTS</h2> - - - - <table width="90%" border="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Table of Contents"> - <tr> - <td class="toc1">CHAPTER</td> - <td> </td> - <td class="toc1a">PAGE</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toc4" style="width:15%">I.</td><td class="toc2">Their Own Affair</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toc4">II.</td><td class="toc2">How the Acquaintance Began</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Page_19">19</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toc4">III.</td><td class="toc2">Uncle Hector's Verdict</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Page_33">33</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toc4">IV.</td><td class="toc2">Matrimonial</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Page_43">43</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toc4">V.</td><td class="toc2">He Meets Two Ladies</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toc4">VI.</td><td class="toc2">He Almost Gets Religion</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Page_103">103</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toc4">VII.</td><td class="toc2">Toward the Light</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Page_116">116</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toc4">VIII.</td><td class="toc2">A Worker of Miracles</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Page_132">132</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toc4">IX.</td><td class="toc2">Dreams?</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Page_144">144</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toc4">X.</td><td class="toc2">The Farthest Traveler</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Page_162">162</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toc4">XI.</td><td class="toc2">Unsight Unseen</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Page_172">172</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toc4">XII.</td><td class="toc2">"Incredible!"</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Page_189">189</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toc4">XIII.</td><td class="toc2">A Message</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Page_221">221</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toc4">XIV.</td><td class="toc2">Over Seas</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Page_229">229</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toc4">XV.</td><td class="toc2">A Garden of Wonders</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Page_235">235</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toc4">XVI.</td><td class="toc2">The Soul of a Song</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Page_251">251</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toc4">XVII.</td><td class="toc2">"I Mean It"</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Page_259">259</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toc4">XVIII.</td><td class="toc2">The Cañon of - Despair</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Page_267">267</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toc4">XIX.</td><td class="toc2">A Young Man Talks</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Page_273">273</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toc4">XX.</td><td class="toc2">Another Message</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Page_280">280</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toc4">XXI.</td><td class="toc2">Above the Clouds</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Page_290">290</a></td> - </tr> - </table> - - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<h2>Illustrations</h2> - - - -<table border="0" width="90%" cellspacing="0" summary=""> - <tr> - <td class="toi1">"A fantastic, solemn, region"</td> - - <td class="toc3"><i>Frontispiece</i></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td> </td> - - <td class="toi2">FACING</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td> </td> - - <td class="toi2a">PAGE</td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toi1">"Gracefully he floated over their heads"</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Fig_1">28</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toi1">"A cocoanut palace against a mountain of vanilla ice cream"</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Fig_2">114</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toi1">"I want to know how the earth looks when you are standing on the moon"</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Fig_3">120</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toi1">"And now, today, down at the bottom of the ocean, those cities and those marble temples are still standing"</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Fig_4">124</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toi1">"Could lift it in the air to any height, crew, passengers, and cargo"</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Fig_5">154</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toi1">"And glide forever, a homeless vagrant through the dusky void"</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Fig_6">170</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toi1">"Far and fast, even for a bird man"</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Fig_7">180</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toi1">"But who ever saw such a diamond?"</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Fig_8">198</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toi1">"A most unusual country!"</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Fig_9">206</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toi1">"But once a city?"</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Fig_10">208</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toi1">"Older than human history"</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Fig_11">209</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toi1">"The dried bones of its own past, whatever it was"</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Fig_12">212</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toi1">"But why build their cities in those sunless chasms?"</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Fig_13">213</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toi1">"And over everything an awful silence"</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Fig_14">214</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toi1">"A world of dust and ashes"</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Fig_15">215</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toi1">"The diamonds are there, and plenty of them"</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Fig_16">216</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toi1">"With long arms and very short legs"</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Fig_17">217</a></td> - </tr> - - <tr> - <td class="toi1">"But the Diva was far away. She heard nothing save the thing unheard by others"</td> - - <td class="toc3"><a href="#Fig_18">226</a></td> - </tr> - </table> - - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="front07">DROWSY</p> -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_014.png" alt="Chapter I image" /> -</div> - - - -<h2 class="nobreak">I - -<span class="ch">THEIR OWN AFFAIR</span></h2> - -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="uppercase">Breath</span> of Scandal.</p> - -<p>Imperishable zephyr! Dispenser of delight -to all:—save those it touches. Floating in -playful sport around the globe, it does little harm to -callous sinners. But it blights, with a special and -vociferous joy, superior persons.</p> - -<p>The higher and more immaculate the victim the -greater the general mirth. In the wake of pleasure it -may have, at times, a comic side; at other times it -kills—and with agonies that are not for publication.</p> - -<p>In a certain month of May it loitered up the eastern -shore of the Adriatic, lingering briefly at Rovigno, -just long enough to nip the budding romance of an -interesting widow. At Orsera it electrified the leading -citizens by linking, in a gentle whisper, the name of a -lady of spotless reputation with a Platonic Friend. It -spared Parenzo. But at Cittanuova it fanned into -flame a general curiosity regarding the relations of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> -Captain of Cavalry with the wife of a certain careless -husband. At S. Lorenzo it merely put two lovers on -their guard.</p> - -<p>Then onward for Trieste. In this search for savory -victims it overlooked a villa high up a hillside. Here, -indeed, the Breath of Scandal might have entered and -rejoiced! But the villa, as if guarding against this -very visitor, had drawn before its face a screen of -trees and vines and flowers. As wise old Bumble takes -his morning nectar from the choicest flowers, so here -might this fateful zephyr have drunk his fill.</p> - -<p>There was mystery about this villa.</p> - -<p>Natives, whose business brought them in the vicinity, -were enchanted by the beauty of a woman's voice. -In melody and in power it was, to them, a revelation. -Two middle-aged gentlemen—one of them the Curé -of S. Pietro in Selve—both lovers of music and who -attended operas at Milan and other cities heard the -celestial voice one day when passing near the villa. -They were charmed. Both knew it was no ordinary -singer. But the singer's identity was not discovered.</p> - -<p>On this particular morning a young man was sitting -alone in the Loggia of the villa. Westward, through -one of the open arches, he gazed upon the deep, blue -waters of the Adriatic, far down below. Small boats, -with sails of various colors, floated here and there, -like lazy butterflies. The man was reclining in an easy -chair like an invalid—which he was. Bandages encased -his throat. A bullet through his neck, two -months ago, would explain these bandages. It was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span> -the price he paid for striking an Austrian officer across -the mouth. The Austrian officer had made an offensive -remark concerning the Diva. The young American -was a good shot and in the duel, three days later, -he sent a bullet through his adversary's chest. It so -happened that the Austrian, being also a good shot, -sent a corresponding missile through the young American's -neck. Then the Diva and her defender had -fled to this villa; not together, but separately, to escape -the Breath of Scandal. Here, in this ideal nest, they -found peace and privacy. Not under their own names. -Ah, no! If the lady's identity were suspected the -thrilling news would have circled the globe. One cannot -be an opera singer of world-wide fame and suddenly -become obscure. The Diva's Italian friends and -the public believed that she was rusticating somewhere, -with relatives. The American's friends in Paris had -heard about the duel, but knew nothing of his whereabouts. -So, alone and happy, here on this Istrian hillside, -they laughed at Mrs. Grundy, and lived and loved -at leisure. And what sweeter victory than looking -down from a perch of safety upon the world below -where the Breath of Scandal spared neither the guilty -nor the innocent? Kind providence had so managed -that the Diva's immediate family was not inquisitive. -It consisted solely of her father, a famous scientist, -whose portrait, with its high forehead, shaggy hair -and drowsy eyes was a familiar face to Italian students. -So absorbed he was in study and experiment -that the adventures of his yet more famous daughter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> -caused him no uneasiness. Had the Breath of Scandal -entered his laboratory, it would have been ignored—or -ejected as a liar. The Diva's husband—known as -"The Calamity" by her friends—a handsome gentleman -of noble family, had long since become immune -to the Breath of Scandal—so well encased in his disrepute -that he could sink no further. He and the -Breath of Scandal were boon companions. At present -he held a government position in Siam. Three years -he had been there, and might remain for ten years -more. So, at the cozy Istrian villa were no jealous -eyes to disturb a lover's dream.</p> - -<p>On this May morning, too warm, perhaps, in the -sunshine, but perfect in the shade, the American, in -his reclining chair, was listening to a singing voice. It -came to him from an inner room of the villa. Dreamily -he listened, with half closed eyes, and smiling -mouth. It had been rather a handsome face before -the duel. Now the features were too sharp, and the -eyes showed lack of sleep. This old Hungarian -song—a mother's prayer, now coming from the -Diva's lips, and heart—was her lover's favorite, and -her own. It was given with the depth of feeling and -the art of a great singer, herself soon to be a mother. -There are things in music, often the simplest songs, -that stir the imagination and reach the secret chamber -of the soul beyond all others. This Hungarian prayer -was one. It had become, to these two people, a hymn -of hope, with its love and fears, its yearnings and its -joy. And into it the Diva gave her very soul.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p> - -<p>The song ended. Then, with eyes still moist, the -Diva walked out into the loggia.</p> - -<p>A pleasant thing to look upon, this goddess of the -ravishing voice. There seemed bewitchment in her -figure, in her carriage, in her head and neck, in the -low, wide brow with its blackest of black hair. Beneath -the heavy lashes of the midnight eyes lurked -tragedy. Their mysterious depths disturbed the hearts -of men. Yet her lips told more of mirth. Certain -critics maintained that her greatest triumphs were in -comedy. But as nearly all grand opera is for tragedy -she rarely appeared in lighter rôles. This morning, as -she stepped out into the loggia, she could have passed -for almost any heroine—either of tragedy or comedy. -Her robe, a thing of light material, might be any -shade or color; perhaps a delicate purple ground with -a smiling yellow pattern—or vice versa; so artfully designed -that the outlines of her figure became elusive.</p> - -<p>She bent over, kissed the invalid, and pressed a -cheek against his face. Then she straightened up and -stood beside him, looking down with a smile that was -more than friendly. The invalid returned the smile. -It was an easy thing to do. For what is easier than -returning the smile of a singing goddess vainly sought -by other men, when she descends from pinnacles of -glory—and freely, joyfully surrenders herself, and all -from an overpowering love? In the smile that lingered -between them were things whose utterance is not -in words of any language:—things that true lovers, -and they alone, can ever know. Close beside him she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> -drew a wicker chair, and she sat in silence for a -moment, studying his face. Earnestly she looked into -his eyes as if searching his secret thoughts.</p> - -<p>Flowers may be the language of love, but in this -case it was also French. The Diva was Italian and -her French was more than good. And Dr. Alton's -French, for an American, was not so very bad. But -since the leaden messenger had entered his neck three -months ago, he had spoken no word, of French, nor -of any other language. It was still a question whether -he would regain his voice or be forever mute. And -in those three months of ceaseless devotion there had -come to the Diva an amazing gift. So intense had -been her desire to know his thoughts, so persistent her -efforts to know what his silent lips would utter, that -at last the wish was granted. A mysterious power had -come: a power that transferred to her own brain—or -soul—the thoughts his lips could not express.</p> - -<p>The conversation to an eavesdropper would have -seemed a monologue by the lady, with long pauses. In -these pauses she was reading her lover's thoughts. -The young man's pleasure in these gazings was even -greater than the Diva's. Within her eyes, themselves -an entrancement, he found love and infinite devotion. -Under their spell he asked no greater joy than opening -wide the secret chambers of his soul.</p> - -<p>"Did the little blond hero happen to notice how I -finished the prayer song this morning?"</p> - -<p>The little blond hero—who was some inches taller -than the Diva when on his feet—nodded. He nodded<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> -slowly and carefully in consideration of the bandaged -throat.</p> - -<p>"And that it was a little different from the way I -usually sing it?"</p> - -<p>Again the answer was a careful nod.</p> - -<p>"How did he like it? Is it better that way?"</p> - -<p>This time, after the faint, affirmative sign, she gazed -longer into the adoring eyes, waiting a less simple -answer. She found it, and with no aid from his lips.</p> - -<p>"Yes, that was my idea precisely. More strength in -the final passages; the deeper feeling of a mother's -appeal." Then, with closed eyes and clasped hands: -"May the prayer be answered, for my whole soul is -in it!"</p> - -<p>On the clasped hands the invalid laid one of his own, -with a gentle pressure, telling of sympathy, hope and -confidence. She opened her eyes and returned his -smile. "Yes, yes. We must be cheerful; always -cheerful and full of hope. It will be better for the -child."</p> - -<p>After a silence, in which both looked thoughtfully -over the tree tops, toward the distant coast of Italy, -beyond the butterfly sails far below moving here and -there on the shimmering surface of the Adriatic, she -turned, in response to another pressure of the hand, -and again looked deep into the patient's eyes.</p> - -<p>"No, Dr. Cervini says there's no harm in my singing -unless I fatigue myself. And I never do that."</p> - -<p>But his face was anxious. So with an air of cheerful -confidence she exclaimed:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I have decided on a boy. Yes, a boy! Smile again. -I love to see you smile. Why a boy? Because boys -are stronger and bigger than girls; more reasoning; -more honest. What? Not so lovable as girls. Oh, -nonsense!"</p> - -<p>Here a pause.</p> - -<p>"I don't quite understand. Think that again.—Oh, -well I shouldn't mind if he was. I love bad boys. Of -course we don't want a cowardly, mean-spirited, -stingy, cold-blooded, deceitful kind of badness."</p> - -<p>Here, after another pause, she laughed. "Yes, I -suppose that is just what I do mean—a bad boy who -is good."</p> - -<p>Another silence, and another laugh. "No, never!" -"But tell me, Defender of Women, why do you wish -for a girl? Because what? She might be a perfect -copy of myself? Oh, honey-mouthed humbug!"</p> - -<p>She rose, stooped over, kissed him, and sat down -again.</p> - -<p>"Well, I shall be happy, very happy, whatever the -Bon Dieu gives us."</p> - -<p>The next silence was longer.</p> - -<p>"Yes, that is all very true. Heredity counts. -There's no doubt of that. Half Italian, half American—there -are worse combinations. But I am doubtful -about the American half." Here she frowned -and slowly shook her head. "I have a torturing suspicion -that all Americans—with one heavenly exception—are -ignoble things."</p> - -<p>The blond hero smiled and closed his eyes.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Not an opera singer in the whole country," she -went on. "No music, no art, no Roman ruins; just a -race of handsome, reckless, blood-thirsty young doctors. -And the whole miserable wilderness, the whole -continent itself, was discovered by an Italian! Think -of that! Think of how much we owe Columbus, you -and I! Were it not for him we should never have -met—for you would not exist. You owe everything -to Italy. Still, we love each other just as much. That -is the important thing. Nothing else really matters." -But she frowned and shook a finger. "Nevertheless, -if it's a boy I shall name him Columbus Michael Angelo -Dante Victor Emanuel Alton, just to hide the -dishonor of his father's nationality."</p> - -<p>The invalid clasped the finger, and held it. For a -moment two pairs of eyes looked deep into each other. -Then the Diva laughed. "What ideas you have! The -Good God gave you a sunny heart, my beloved. And -you know—Oh, you know well—that whatever——"</p> - -<p>At the sound of a distant door bell she stopped -abruptly. Into her face came a look of mild alarm. -Both knew that no visitor was welcome. Who could -enter this bower unless shadowed by the Breath of -Scandal? The next moment, however, her face -brightened. "Oh—of course! It's the good Dr. -Cervini. I had forgotten he was to come early -to-day."</p> - -<p>The man who entered kissed the tips of the Diva's -fingers. Then he shook hands with the American.</p> - -<p>Tall, thin, of brown and leathery skin, with a prominent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> -Roman nose, fierce mustaches and pointed iron -gray beard, he could easily have passed for Don -Quixote. But the fierce mustaches failed to hide the -lines of mirth about the mouth. And from two calm -eyes beneath the threatening eyebrows gleamed sympathy -and benevolence. It was generally believed that -Dr. Cervini had ushered into the world more princes -and princesses, more grand dukes and duchesses, more -future kings and queens than any man in Europe. In -those cases where there might be a question as to the -propriety of the little one's arrival, he was more than -trustworthy. In such affairs the Silence of the Tomb, -compared with Dr. Cervini, was noisy gossip.</p> - -<p>After various questions concerning the patient's -progress he exclaimed:</p> - -<p>"What patience, what godlike self-control are -exhibited by Dr. Alton! Younger and more up-to-date -than I, with a perfect knowledge of the human throat, -yet he submits to my advice and antiquated treatment! -Medals should be his!"</p> - -<p>Dr. Alton, of course, protested, in silence, and the -silent protest was put in words by the Diva. So ran -the conversation for a time, Dr. Cervini watching the -Diva with deepest interest.</p> - -<p>"Do you realize, Signora," he said at last, "that you -have developed a most extraordinary faculty?"</p> - -<p>"Is it so very remarkable?"</p> - -<p>"It is, indeed! In all my experience, and you know -it covers many years, I have seen nothing quite like it. -Hypnotism, mental telepathy and the old familiar<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> -tricks are very different matters. In your case a sound -mind in a sound body merges itself in closest communication -with another mind, equally sound and normal. -I am wondering if you could still read the -doctor's thoughts if there was no common language -between you. Or is it his unspoken words that you -read?"</p> - -<p>The Diva reflected. "No, it is not his words. I -feel sure I should know his wishes even if there were -no such things as words." Then, turning to her lover: -"Tell me, wicked one, do you have to think in words -when we talk together?—No, he says not."</p> - -<p>"An amazing faculty!" murmured Dr. Cervini. "I -have never seen nor heard of such a case. You two, -as I understand, can carry on an endless conversation, -and without a word from him."</p> - -<p>"Yes, except, sometimes, names of people or of -places. Then, if I don't know them, he writes them -for me."</p> - -<p>"Could you read the thoughts of another person, do -you think? Of others, beside our invalid, here?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, I am sure I don't know! I never tried. It's -a terrible thought. Could anything be more frightful -than to know, at times, what people really thought of -you? No, no, Heaven forbid!"</p> - -<p>Dr. Cervini laughed. "Oh, you would have little -to fear on that score!" Then, tapping the hand of the -invalid, "But you and I, Doctor, we professional sinners!—well—that -would indeed be humiliating! Our -crosses would be heavy!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span></p> - -<p>The invalid smiled, then looked at the Diva. And -the Diva laughed, blushed and shook her head.</p> - -<p>"What does he say?"</p> - -<p>"It's too foolish to repeat. He's a silly boy."</p> - -<p>"I insist upon knowing."</p> - -<p>"He says——. No, no. I couldn't repeat it! His -brain is affected. His blond wits are wandering."</p> - -<p>Dr. Cervini frowned and looked his fiercest. "What -manners! Secret messages in the very presence of a -guest!"</p> - -<p>"Well—he says the unspoken thoughts of a grateful -world might intoxicate me, and he doesn't enjoy -drunkards."</p> - -<p>Dr. Cervini laughed. "No, you are mistaken, Doctor. -She has already survived that test. No living -conqueror has sailed in triumph on such seas of glory. -No other queen or goddess has achieved her victory -without losing something of the simplicity, the freshness -and the charm of youth. The hearts of men are -hers. To entrance the world, to——"</p> - -<p>"Stop! Stop!" Again the color came to her cheeks. -"If you said it too often, I might believe it, and then—adieu -to all simplicity."</p> - -<p>The two men protested—each in his own manner—against -all denials of their sincerity.</p> - -<p>More serious conversation followed. Dr. Cervini, -after final instructions for the patient, departed, the -Diva going with him to the outer door. As usual at -these partings, she pressed him for an honest opinion<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> -of the patient's condition. And, as usual, it was favorable.</p> - -<p>She laid a hand on his arm. "You are telling me -the truth, aren't you, old friend?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. On my honor. In a fortnight he shall eat -and drink and talk in comfort. Believe me. Now, -now! No tears! I know what a strain it is. You -have been simply magnificent all through these weary -weeks. Don't weaken now. The worst is over."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I will be brave. But the hardest of all is to -see him suffer. He never complains. He tries so -hard, so hard, to be cheerful! It seems, at moments, -as if I could bear it no longer."</p> - -<p>"Go away for a week or two. I can bring an excellent -nurse."</p> - -<p>"No, no! Never that!"</p> - -<p>"Then remember the child. It must not come into -the world with the face of a tragic mask; with weeping -eyes and wrinkled brow."</p> - -<p>She smiled and promised. But, after bidding him -a cheerful good-by, and when the door had closed, -she dropped into a chair and pressed both hands -against her face. It was a determined effort to keep -back the tears. They came, however; but the luxury -was brief. With an air of somewhat fierce resolve she -arose, stood just long enough before a mirror to dry -her eyes, then, humming the gayest of airs from a -comic opera, she went out into the loggia and rejoined -the sufferer.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span></p> - -<p>Meanwhile, Dr. Cervini descended the driveway of -the villa to the postroad. There he stopped, leaned -upon the parapet and looked down upon the scene -below him; the little town at the foot of the hill, and -the sky-blue Adriatic.</p> - -<p>At the sound of an approaching carriage he turned. -The approaching equipage was obviously patrician. It -pertained to a lady of the High Nobility. Save the -two men in livery on the box and the Breath of Scandal, -this Countess was traveling alone. She and the -Breath of Scandal were boon companions. This intimacy -bore no resemblance to the corresponding intimacy -among common people where purity is defiled, -homes ruined and good names besmeared. With the -Countess the Breath of Scandal became a sweet perfume—wafting -around her person an intriguing atmosphere -of mystery, romance and patrician vice.</p> - -<p>Friendly greetings passed between the lady and the -doctor. Then the lady asked for information. She -suspected from something she had heard that the Diva -was in this vicinity.</p> - -<p>"Now, tell me, Doctor. Where is she?"</p> - -<p>"She? In this vicinity?"</p> - -<p>"Come now, I am not to be deceived. You may as -well tell me at once. Where is she? You are one of -her intimates and I saw you come down that avenue. -As the only truthful man in Austria, you may as well -confess that she lives at the end of it."</p> - -<p>The truthful man raised his Mephistophelean eyebrows, -smiled and slowly shook his head. "Alas, I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> -wish, indeed, she were there! There is a villa, Countess, -but no Diva in it."</p> - -<p>The lady frowned. "Who then?"</p> - -<p>"Nobody you know, or are likely to know. The -occupant is a deservedly prosperous manufacturer of -excellent chocolate."</p> - -<p>"Are you sure?" In her manner was suspicion, not -quite allayed.</p> - -<p>"Well—I have spent the last hour there—and many -previous hours."</p> - -<p>"Very likely. But I don't believe you."</p> - -<p>"Am I a liar?"</p> - -<p>"I really don't know."</p> - -<p>"But you just said I was the only truthful man -in Austria."</p> - -<p>"Merely a form of speech. I meant relatively. -You might be the most truthful man in Austria and -yet have no standing in heaven—or any other honest -resort."</p> - -<p>Dr. Cervini smiled. "True, too true! But who told -you our Diva was here about?"</p> - -<p>"A connoisseur. A judge of voices. One who could -not be mistaken. He heard her voice one evening, here, -along this road."</p> - -<p>"Was he sure it was the Diva?"</p> - -<p>"Absolutely."</p> - -<p>"Ah, now I understand. Delicious! Really, it's too -good to keep to ourselves. If we could only interview -him together, you and I!"</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I mean my chocolate king has a young daughter, -who sings. And she sings—yes—she sings well. But, -vocally, she bears about the same resemblance to our -Diva as a guinea chicken to a skylark."</p> - -<p>"Could our connoisseur be quite such a fool as -that?"</p> - -<p>"A real connoisseur can be anything. But possibly -he had dined too well on that particular night. However, -even when sober a musical critic can——" He -stopped abruptly, with a gesture of annoyance. "Oh, -what a memory! My humblest apologies to our connoisseur. -He was right, absolutely right. He made no -mistake."</p> - -<p>"Then she is here, after all?"</p> - -<p>"No, she is far from here. But I had entirely forgotten, -for the moment, that she passed this way not -so long ago. In the town below there, she lingered a -day or two on her way to France."</p> - -<p>"Is she in France?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, for the summer;—and for rest."</p> - -<p>"What part of France?"</p> - -<p>"Ah, that, Countess, I must not tell."</p> - -<p>"But I am one of her oldest friends! Am I not -even to correspond with her?"</p> - -<p>"Well, you know her one object in going there is -for absolute rest, not even writing letters. I see you -are hurt, dear lady, and I understand your feelings, -but I am sworn to secrecy."</p> - -<p>The lady stiffened, and settled back in the carriage. -"Hurt! I should say so. And why not, pray?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p> - -<p>Dr. Cervini seemed to reflect a moment. "Well, -Countess, will you give me your solemn word of -honor to guard the secret if I tell you?"</p> - -<p>"I promise."</p> - -<p>"Do you happen to know the town of Tarbes?"</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>"Have you ever been to Foix?"</p> - -<p>"Never heard of it."</p> - -<p>"Well, she has rented a little villa somewhere between -those places, but back in the mountains."</p> - -<p>"What mountains?"</p> - -<p>"The Pyrenees."</p> - -<p>"God protect us! Is she there?"</p> - -<p>"She is. Her doctors and her family all insisted -upon her having a six months' rest. And she needs -it."</p> - -<p>"Provoking! Most annoying! And here I have -had a long drive beneath a broiling sun—and all for -nothing."</p> - -<p>Dr. Cervini waved a solemn finger. "Don't forget -your promise."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I will remember. But, the young American -doctor who struck—and then killed a captain. Where -is he?"</p> - -<p>"In his own country."</p> - -<p>"In America?"</p> - -<p>"Even so."</p> - -<p>"Shameful! Shameful!"</p> - -<p>"Why shameful, Countess?"</p> - -<p>"Because I hoped they were together—as they should<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> -be. It's too delicious a romance for the lovers to spoil -by parting."</p> - -<p>"Lovers! She hardly knew him. If a favorite prima -donna were to adopt every man who fell in love with -her she would have no time for music. Heavens! -What a regiment of followers!"</p> - -<p>"Nevertheless," said the lady, in a more serious -manner, "I blush for the Diva."</p> - -<p>"Why blush?"</p> - -<p>"I always blush for virtue."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>As the carriage, with the Countess, escorted by the -Breath of Scandal, disappeared around a curve in the -road, Dr. Cervini removed his hat, looked heavenward -and murmured:</p> - -<p>"Angels of mercy, forgive a liar."</p> - -<p>But the lie did well. Never again came the Breath -of Scandal so near the Diva. The lovers' secret remained -a secret. Even her father, the famous scientist -with the drowsy eyes, died twenty years later not -knowing that he had a grandchild.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_032.png" alt="Chapter II image" /> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak">II - -<span class="ch">HOW THE ACQUAINTANCE BEGAN</span></h2> - -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="uppercase">Seven</span> years have passed.</p> - -<p>Under the arching elms in a Massachusetts -village, one Sunday morning in July, various -persons were moving toward a house of worship. The -house of worship was white, with a portico of Ionic -columns.</p> - -<p>Among the branches of the elms a noisy congregation -of non-sectarian birds seemed to be laughing at -the Orthodox bells.</p> - -<p>Dr. Alton, leading his little son by the hand, was -walking beside the parson. Dr. Alton was but little -over thirty years of age. His son was nearly seven. -When the older physician died, two months ago, this -younger Dr. Alton, his only child, had returned from -Europe and announced his intention of continuing his -father's practice. Why an attractive young man, shining -with honors from the medical schools of Paris<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> -and Vienna, should be willing to hide his talents in -a village like Longfields was an interesting mystery. -Some argued that the death of his young wife had -broken his heart and killed ambition. But this morning, -as he walked to church, beneath the singing elms, -he took cheerful notice of the things about him. He -enjoyed the greetings of old friends of his boyhood.</p> - -<p>Some yards behind, in this progress toward the -church, came Mr. and Mrs. David Snell. Mr. Snell -was listening to the discourse of his wife. He listened -with the patience and the fortitude attained by long -experience and by force of will. His beard was gray, -his eyes were blue, his shoulders narrow and his figure -slight. Also, he had a gentle voice and gentle manners. -But it was known among his friends that this -gentleness was by no means a manifestation of any -inward weakness. While patient and much enduring, -there were times when he became more determined, -more "cantankerously sot" and unchangeable than the -movements of the planets. Deacon Babbit once said, -"Compared with David when he gets his dander up -the Rock of Ages is a weather-cock. The only safe -thing to do is to stand from under and let him be." -But these transformations were rare, and often forgotten.</p> - -<p>"I don't care," Mrs. Snell was saying, "people have -a right to gossip when a handsome young man comes -home from Europe with a child like that and refuses -to open his mouth about its mother. I don't -believe it <i>had</i> a mother."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p> - -<p>"P'r'aps not. P'r'aps it grew on a pumpkin tree and -the doctor jest picked it."</p> - -<p>"You know what I mean, David. We never heard -of his being married durin' those six years he was over -there—over there studyin' medicine. Studyin' medicine! -I guess he studied a good many things besides -medicine."</p> - -<p>"Been a fool if he hadn't. Medicine ain't the only -interestin' thing in this world."</p> - -<p>"Don't be coarse, David, and excusing vice. You -know very well he should not deceive people about -it."</p> - -<p>"How has he deceived anybody?"</p> - -<p>"By saying he was married to this boy's mother—and -she died."</p> - -<p>"Well, ain't it true?"</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>"How do you know it ain't?"</p> - -<p>"Because if it was true he wouldn't be so secretive -about it. There's nothing to be ashamed of in marrying -an honest woman and having a child."</p> - -<p>"No," said Mr. Snell. "Nuthin' specially surprisin' -about that. Good folks have done it."</p> - -<p>"Then why be hiding something? All his old -friends are naturally interested in his wife and he'd -naturally tell us—unless there was something he was -ashamed of."</p> - -<p>"Ashamed of? Well, Rebecca, you certainly can -talk like a fool when you put your mind on it."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Snell flushed. "Really! Indeed! So you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> -think it's perfectly natural for a man to hide from -his old friends all knowledge of his marriage—as he -would a murder?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, if he wants to."</p> - -<p>"Well, I don't. And that's the difference. And -we'll see what other people in this village are going -to think about it."</p> - -<p>Mr. Snell stopped, laid a hand on his wife's arm -and wheeled her about. He spoke in a low voice, but -his words were metallic in their clearness. "Now look -here, Rebecca Snell, you jest go slow on startin' that -kind of talk. Dr. Alton's a good man. We are mighty -lucky to have him in the old doctor's shoes. Longfields -is a mighty small village for a man with such -an education as he's got. And if it ever got to his -ears that you'd been insultin' his dead wife's memory—well—you'll -get jest exactly what you deserve, and -I'll help give it to yer. I mean it. Now shut up."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Snell glanced at the light blue angry eyes now -looking steadily into her own. Between those eyes and -her own face, a long and bony finger, quivering with -anger, was moving slowly, to and fro. It came very -near her face. She blinked, tightened her lips and -took a backward step. Then her husband, in a low -voice, husky with rage, the vibrating finger almost -touching her nose, spoke once more.</p> - -<p>"And you <i>stay</i> shut up!"</p> - -<p>After a pause, just long enough for his message to -be acknowledged by a nod of obedience he started on -toward the church.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p> - -<p>Mrs. Snell followed after.</p> - -<p>In that congregation were persons who came to worship -their Creator—the ostensible purpose of the gathering. -Miss Susan Pendexter, on the other hand, a -somewhat emotional spinster, came to worship the -preacher, Rev. George Bentley Heywood. She was -thrilled by the originality, the power and the beauty -of the sermon which to his own wife seemed, as -usual, prosy and commonplace. Many were present -because afraid to stay away. Among these were the -young men. Children, of course, were present under -compulsion, accepting the sermon as a punishment.</p> - -<p>No gathering could be more democratic. These descendants -of the Pilgrims were not encumbered by -class distinctions. Judge Dean, for instance, the most -influential citizen of the village, would never presume -to patronize either Abner Phillips, the harness maker -or Elisha Bisbee, the blacksmith. Uncle Hector, who -kept the store, would have snubbed all the reigning -monarchs of the earth had he suspected them of willful -condescension. The somewhat restless man in a -side pew, he whose stiff hair stands straight on end, -who snuffs and clears his throat and looks pleasantly -around the church, is Lemuel Cobb, the stage driver. -He is a descendant of a famous Governor of Plymouth -Colony and has a brother who is now President of -a Western College. And the two Allen "girls," Nance -and Fidelia—now over sixty—have one of the best -pews in Church. The fact of their being largely dependent -for food and clothing, rent and fuel, on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> -bounty of their neighbors, lessens in no degree the -courtesy they receive.</p> - -<p>It was natural that Dr. Alton and his son, this morning, -should be objects of lively interest. This interest -was all the greater from certain unexplained -events in Europe kindly referred to by Mrs. Snell. -But other persons were less suspicious than this lady. -Nearly all the members of the congregation—and of -the township for that matter—were old friends of -this Dr. Alton's father. Few among those here present -failed to recall, with gratitude and affection, the -dead physician. The older members he had either sustained -in sickness or had postponed their departure to -realms above. The younger ones he had ably assisted -into our merry world. This younger Dr. Alton, now -present, bore some resemblance to his father. He had -a good expression and a pleasant smile, but he was, -of course, too young to carry those deeper lines of -study, of work and kindly deeds that marked his -father's face.</p> - -<p>So high were the backs of the pews that the smaller -children were almost invisible. Only the tops of their -heads were in sight. But Dr. Alton's son, for a wider -knowledge of this new world, folded his short legs -beneath him and sat upon his heels. This was welcomed—in -silence—by many persons in the congregations. -They could now satisfy their curiosity as to -his appearance. And the face was disappointing. -His eyes, as they moved in a drowsy way over the -faces about him, seemed dull and almost stupid. They<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> -seemed half closed by heavy lids. And his short, -cherubic mouth might indicate a want of decision. His -hair, short, thick and dark grew in a straight line -across his forehead. Altogether, with his stiff hair, -plump cheeks, short neck and placid manner, he seemed -a different type from the little Yankee boys of Longfields.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Waldo Bennett, the tall, straight woman with -startled eyebrows, said to herself, as she watched his -slow moving eyes, studying in mild surprise the church -and the people about him, "That little heathen was -never in a house of God before." But she was wrong. -This was, to be sure, his first experience in a New England -church, but he had been in cathedrals. And he -was surprised at the difference in size between this -cathedral and those at Milan and Canterbury. Leisurely, -and with no embarrassment or self-consciousness, -his eyes wandered slowly over various persons -who were watching him. But when his eyes encountered -Mrs. Snell they opened a trifle wider. There, -in surprise, they rested for a moment. For in this -lady's face he found, not the amiable curiosity of his -grandfather's grateful friends, but a pious disapproval -of his very existence. Almost threatening was -her look of hostility, of reprobation and contempt. -There was censure in it, and condemnation. She was -studying him as one of the Higher Angels might study -the meanest imp of Satan. For Mrs. Snell, while not -impervious to the consolations of religion, found more -solace, just at present, in believing Dr. Alton a special<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> -envoy from Sodom and Gomorrah. As for the boy, -she detected, in his evil eyes and voluptuous mouth, an -agent of the devil for the future debauchery of Longfields. -She was not especially prophetic in other matters -but, for this boy, she predicted an unspeakable -career.</p> - -<p>And the boy, while unable to divine all her thoughts -or to realize this blighting forecast, did not fail to -catch the general message. For a moment he returned -her gaze, calmly and undisturbed; then as calmly -looked away. He was seeking refuge in the thought -that perhaps she hated all other boys just as much. -Perhaps the women in this new country were fiercer -than those in Europe.</p> - -<p>The very next minute, however, something happened—something -so much more thrilling that he -forgot completely the square jawed, ominous woman. -As he looked away from her hostile glare he encountered -the eyes of the parson's daughter. And -such eyes! How different from Mrs. Snell's! These -eyes were the two most astonishing things he had ever -seen. They were not far away—in a pew at right -angles to his own—and they were looking straight -at him! They had thick, dark lashes. They, also, -were severe, but in a different way from Mrs. Snell's. -They certainly were frowning at him. From Mrs. -Snell's eyes he felt like running away—for safety. -These other eyes seemed more surprised than angry—as -if demanding an apology for something. Although -but six years old they were remarkably effective for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> -weapons with so little experience. Not that she was -a flirt at that age: she was nothing more than a rather -willful little girl, already somewhat spoiled: one of -those clever females intended by nature to succeed, -from the cradle up, in getting whatever they desire.</p> - -<p>The boy's eyebrows went up and he smiled, involuntarily, -in spite of her frown, and his slumbrous eyelids -opened a little wider. He enjoyed beautiful -things, in whatever form, and those eyes, whether hostile -or friendly, were wondrous things. Then, when -he had just begun to stare at them, comfortably, came -one of the surprises of his life. It was more than -a surprise: it was a blow, a shock, a humiliation. For, -this girl, with no warning, made a face at him! She -wrinkled up her nose, slightly raised her chin and -stuck out her tongue. And, while he gazed in wonder, -she unfolded the legs upon which she was elevated -and sank from his vision like a mermaid beneath -the waves. He was more astonished than angry. -That such an affront, so undeserved, so undignified -and so insulting should come from so angelic a face -was something new in his experience. In his desire -to see more of this novelty he forgot his surroundings, -and to the surprise of neighboring worshipers, and -before his father could stop him, he clambered to his -feet and stood up on the seat of the pew.</p> - -<p>Accelerated by his father's hand and by a whispered -word, he came down to his proper level. But -Mrs. Snell had seen the act. It strengthened her conviction -that this future corrupter of youth had no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> -respect for the House of God, and was already dead -to any religious influence. For a time the Corrupter -of Youth kept his eyes on the place where the eyes -had vanished; but in vain. They seemed to have -disappeared forever. So, being a boy, he found interest -in other things.</p> - -<p>The tall windows of the church were open at the -top, and those members of the congregation, not enthralled -by the sermon, could see snowy clouds drifting -idly across a bright blue sky. Through these open -windows came the song of birds;—voices of the -heathen birds already mentioned; good singers but -with little reverence for the Gospel Word. To the -Corrupter of Youth, also, the Gospel Word had little -interest. He was looking up, through the open windows, -at the floating clouds, the swallows and the -white pigeons. One swallow, less discerning than his -friends, flew into the church and fluttered about before -escaping. He was followed, with envious eyes, -by the Corrupter of Youth, who decided there and -then—a decision often made before—that when he -grew to be a man, and could do as he pleased, he also -would fly:—up from the earth, high up into the clouds -like a bird!</p> - -<p>Perhaps it was the warm day and the preacher's -voice, but after a while he began to feel sleepy. And, -anyway, why should a bird be so much better off than -men and other animals? Why stick so tight to the -ground? It didn't seem fair. Why should a hen—just -a hen—have wings and not a boy? If he himself - - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> - -had wings—my gracious!—he would rise and sail -up through the open window, up and far away above -the clouds, into the blue sky itself! Among the gods -and angels he would float around. And just to show -what he could do, he would astonish them with extraordinary -evolutions. For speed, originality and -distance, his flights, with curves and sudden stops, -would startle even sparrows themselves. There was -pleasure, too, in swooping down, and showing his contempt -for these heavy, easily satisfied persons all huddled -together between the bare walls of this foolish -little Longfields cathedral. Darting downwards, but in -easy curves, to the very window through which he -had been looking up and out, he now looked down and -in. Hovering at the open window, his body without, -his head within, he frowned upon the upturned, startled -faces of the earth-bound congregation. Then he -entered. Gracefully he floated over their heads. For -a moment he hovered over Mrs. Snell, who uttered -a loud scream, then fell dead from terror. Next, above -the girl with the wonderful eyes he moved slowly -to and fro, as fishes move in water. This just to -show her what kind of a floating boy he was. Descending -a little, until his face was close to hers, he -looked straight into her startled eyes and wiggled his -nose like a rabbit. And it frightened her almost to -death!</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a id="Fig_1"></a> - <img src="images/i_042.jpg" alt="" /> - <p class="caption">"GRACEFULLY HE FLOATED OVER THEIR HEADS"<span class="no-break">—<i>Page 29</i></span></p> -</div> - - -<p>'Twas a great thought!</p> - -<p>He smiled as he reveled in it. But there are dreams -too beautiful to be true. And when, at last, his soul<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> -rejoined his body he saw the preacher had folded his -hands upon the Bible in front of him, and was praying. -The members of the congregation, with bowed -heads, were listening in solemn silence. Then the -dreamer, now wide awake, slid from his seat, stood -up, put his mouth to his parent's ear and whispered:</p> - -<p>"Father, quick! His eyes are shut. Let's get -away!"</p> - -<p>Parents can be dull. On this occasion his father -certainly missed a golden opportunity. He merely -shook his head and failed to act.</p> - -<p>However, the weary service was almost over. The -prayer ended; the congregation stood up and joined in -the final hymn. The dreamer also stood up. Also, he -opened his cherubic mouth, and sang. The words -he knew not, but he sang without them. His unfamiliar -voice surprised Miss Martha Lincoln, a middle-aged -maiden just in front of him. Twice a week she -gave music lessons in Worcester. Now, involuntarily -she looked behind. Her surprise was great when she -discovered the performer to be a small boy whose -diminutive mouth could hardly open wide enough to -put forth the music that was in him. Clearly this -courageous singer possessed an ear and a sense of -harmony that were a part of himself, and not acquired.</p> - -<p>At last, the benediction finished, the people came -slowly out of the pews into the aisle, and moved toward -the open doors. Greetings occurred between -people who lived miles apart and seldom met, except on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> -Sundays. The boy stuck close to his father. One of -his hands kept a tight grip on Dr. Alton's coat. As -the top of his head was not above the waists of people -about him he received little attention. Many persons -overlooked him. But just before reaching the -vestibule he heard a voice close to his ear, on his own -level. It said, distinctly, but in a tone too low for -the taller people to hear:</p> - -<p>"How do you do, little stupid?"</p> - -<p>He turned. There was the girl with the wondrous -eyes! But now the eyes glistened with malicious -triumph. For an instant he was too surprised, too -disconcerted, to grasp the situation. Like a ship that -receives a raking broadside from an unexpected quarter -and reels beneath the shock, but recovers and prepares -for action, so Cyrus Alton pulled himself together, -blinked and faced the foe. Then it was that -the maiden herself received a shock. For this boy, -instead of "sassing back" as she expected, inclined his -head and body in a ceremonious bow—as elaborate -as the skirts and legs of the surrounding grown-ups -permitted, and inquired politely:</p> - -<p>"Why do you say that?"</p> - -<p>So surprised was the girl, so startled by this unprecedented, -this unheard of politeness in a human -boy, that her expression swiftly changed to one of -comic dismay. She was dumb. The miracle stupefied -her. In their wonderment the beautiful eyes became -yet larger and more beautiful. But the lips were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> -speechless. Then, once again she vanished, this time -behind her mother's skirt.</p> - -<p>And that is how the acquaintance began between -Cyrus Alton and Ruth Heywood.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_048.png" alt="Chapter III image" /> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak">III - -<span class="ch">UNCLE HECTOR'S VERDICT</span></h2> - -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="uppercase">It</span> so happened a few days later that this acquaintance -was renewed. Cyrus, sitting on the doorstep -of a house in the village, waited for his -father, who was visiting a patient within.</p> - -<p>Two little girls came along, arm in arm. They -stopped in front of him.</p> - -<p>One of them said: "A new boy."</p> - -<p>The other said: "Isn't he funny!"</p> - -<p>In one of these persons Cyrus recognized the girl -who made faces at him in church. As they stood smiling, -brimming over with mischief, he arose, lifted his -hat and made a sweeping bow, as d'Artagnan might -have saluted Anne of Austria. It was so well done, -with so much grace and solemnity, that the two girls -were startled. Things of that sort had never occurred -in Longfields. The girls giggled. They believed he -was "showing off" to amuse them. But he was not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> -showing off. It was merely his usual manner of saluting -ladies. When the hat was again on his head, he -looked calmly at the girl with the eyes and inquired:</p> - -<p>"Why did you call me stupid?"</p> - -<p>For an instant she was taken aback. Then with a -smile of defiance:</p> - -<p>"Because you <i>look</i> stupid."</p> - -<p>"But I am not."</p> - -<p>"Well you look so, anyway; doesn't he, Martha?"</p> - -<p>Martha nodded and giggled endorsement. But Ruth -Heywood herself stopped giggling, and said more -seriously:</p> - -<p>"It's your eyes that are funny. They are half awake. -They are so drowsy they make me sleepy to look at -them. Can't you open them wider?"</p> - -<p>Cyrus made no answer because he could think of -nothing to say. But as the heavy lidded eyes looked -into Ruth Heywood's, with their supernatural tranquility, -it seemed to the maiden as if the accumulated -wisdom of mankind was rebuking and despising her. -The same expression came into her face that came -there in church; a rapid change from bantering gayety -to doubt and misgiving. But she wheeled about, with -an air of indifference, and walked away, leading the -devoted Martha. A little way off she turned her head -and called to him:</p> - -<p>"Good-by, Drowsy!"</p> - -<p>With that they both scampered away as fast as they -could run.</p> - -<p>After this interview the acquaintance marched—or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> -rather jumped ahead—with all the velocity of youth. -Cyrus passed her house every time he went to the village -and interviews were frequent. All discourtesy -in their first meetings was forgiven—and forgotten. -To his ceremonious salutations, with their astonishing -bows, Ruth Heywood soon became accustomed. Also, -she ceased being impressed by his judicial gaze, for she -soon learned that the heavy lidded eyes concealed -neither disdain nor supernatural wisdom. She discovered, -in short, that he was just a boy. But he -proved neither sleepy nor stupid.</p> - -<p>Certain traits, however, quite at variance with those -in other children of her own age, made him an object -of her special concern. She began to regard him as -her own personal property, something to be watched -over, guided and protected. Although she had known -but six years of terrestrial life, some feminine, -kindly instinct was already prompting her to be mother -and grandmother to him, also aunt and sister and all -the female blessings that he missed at home. He was, -to be sure, just about her own age, but he was shorter -and less assertive. And there certainly is—at times—a -distinct advantage in being able to look down upon -the person you are trying to impress.</p> - -<p>When Ruth wanted a thing she wanted it very much, -and at once. With strangers she always got it. Her -beauty, combined with her manner—when she chose—were -irresistible, it appeared, to all human males between -the ages of ten and one hundred. She could -smile the smile that routed reason and paralyzed all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> -powers of resistance. This smile, as she grew older, -with the sensitive mouth and conquering eyes, never -lost its charm. And the unsuspecting Cyrus was either -brave or timid, patient or angry, happy or unhappy, -at the witch's will.</p> - -<p>Moreover, his mental processes were quite different -from those of Ruth. He was slower in reaching conclusions. -Her own swift decisions amazed him. She -dazzled him at times, by a mysterious intuitive agency -whose lightning turns he did not pretend to follow.</p> - -<p>Cyrus, more than other boys, was a lover of beautiful -things. Flowers, pictures, music, color, all gave him -pleasure. In the presence of an American sunset he -would sit in solemn adoration. To this lover of beautiful -things Ruth's eyes were as windows of heaven. -Into them he could look and wonder; quit the earth -and imagine all things. They soothed and stirred his -fancy like summer skies and solemn woods—or flowers -and thunderstorms. And when they rested on him, in -reproach, they filled him with delectable guilt.</p> - -<p>Ruth and Truth were one and inseparable. Truth -was part of herself. Truth and Cyrus, on the other -hand, sometimes parted company. And they parted -easily. Truth was a good thing—he knew that. But -there seemed to be occasions when Truth and Wisdom -did not pull together; when the immediate results were -disastrous. When those moments came he preferred -the exercise of his own wits; the triumphs of his own -invention. And his invention was rich and ready.</p> - -<p>On one occasion, when rebuked by his father for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> -telling a lie, he replied, after a moment's thought, and -with earnest conviction:</p> - -<p>"I don't see any fun in telling the truth all the time. -Anybody can do it."</p> - -<p>However, aside from this little matter of despising -Truth, he was a reliable boy. He kept his promises. -And it should be said in justice that, while an easy and -successful liar, his mind was open to reason and he -could be made to realize the sin and folly of his ways. -His interview with Uncle Hector, for instance, showed -a willingness to see the light.</p> - -<p>Uncle Hector kept the store. He was seventy-five -years old, tall, very erect, wore a green wig and was -a bachelor. The wig was not really green, but certain -tints of its original golden brown had changed, in the -passing years, to a peculiar greenish yellow. His own -original virtues, however, had not deteriorated. He -was honest and true. Everybody liked him, and all -the children called him Uncle. He wore dark clothes, -and a stiff, old fashioned collar—a sort of dickey—for -he had a hired man to do the rough work about -the place.</p> - -<p>Toward noon, one February day, Cyrus and Ruth -entered the store. Uncle Hector was off at the further -end talking with a customer:—Mrs. Bennett. Nobody -else was there. While waiting for Mrs. Bennett to -finish her business Cyrus and Ruth admired, as usual, -the wonders about them, and inhaled the intoxicating -air; an air heavy laden with odors of molasses and -vinegar, of coffee, calico and oranges, of the spices<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> -of Araby and the rubber boots of New England. On -the top of the counter, which was on a level with the -nose of Cyrus, lay a dollar bill. Cyrus saw it, and by -standing on his toes he could reach over and take it—which -he did. He held it in the fingers of both hands -and drank in its beauties. Then he held it closer to -Ruth's face, that she, too, might admire it.</p> - -<p>"Just think!" he said. "A dollar is a hundred cents; -we can buy a hundred sticks of that candy you like!"</p> - -<p>Ruth had doubts of his ownership. Yet she considered -the discoverer's feelings.</p> - -<p>"But, Cyrus, it isn't yours."</p> - -<p>"Yes it is!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, no!"</p> - -<p>"Yes. Findin's is keepin's."</p> - -<p>Ruth had never heard this principle before, but she -accepted it because it came from Cyrus. And Cyrus, -this fortune in his fingers, felt as all men feel when -raised, without warning, from poverty to wealth.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Bennett departed and at last Uncle Hector towered -behind the counter smiling down upon the two -upturned, excited faces.</p> - -<p>"Well, Miss Ruth Heywood, and Mr. Cyrus Alton, -what can I do for you this morning?"</p> - -<p>Again Cyrus raised himself upon his toes, pushed the -dollar bill as far over on the counter as he could reach, -and exclaimed:</p> - -<p>"A whole dollar's worth of that red candy with the -white stripes!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p> - -<p>Uncle Hector's genial smile gave way, for a moment, -to an expression of surprise.</p> - -<p>"Where did you get this money, Cyrus?"</p> - -<p>"Father gave it to me."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Cyrus!" exclaimed Ruth.</p> - -<p>The liar turned and looked at Ruth, not in anger at -being exposed, but in a sort of calm amazement that -so sensible a girl should ruin so good a plan. Ruth, -however, was not the person to compromise with sin.</p> - -<p>"Cyrus Alton! How <i>can</i> you say such a thing?"</p> - -<p>Kindly but sadly Uncle Hector looked down upon -the boy.</p> - -<p>"Tell the truth, Cyrus."</p> - -<p>Cyrus, unabashed, met Uncle Hector's reproving -gaze. He even smiled, as any honest man might smile, -to show his spirit was above defeat.</p> - -<p>"I found it just now, right here on this counter."</p> - -<p>Uncle Hector's face was still serious. "Are you -sure it's your dollar?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir. Findin's is keepin's."</p> - -<p>Uncle Hector stroked his chin and twisted his -mouth, as if wondering how to answer. "Well—er—if -you should take one of those oranges and refuse to -pay for it, and just walk away with it and say 'findin's -is keepin's'—would that be all right?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir, because I know they are for sale. This -dollar wasn't."</p> - -<p>Again Uncle Hector stroked his chain and twisted -his mouth. And Cyrus smiled up at him, the smile -of triumph. It was obvious, even to Ruth, that this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> -opening skirmish was a victory for Cyrus. She also -smiled up at Uncle Hector and nodded, signifying that -her escort was an able person.</p> - -<p>But Uncle Hector was not vanquished. He laid the -dollar on the counter, off near Cyrus' face, to make -it clear there was no forcible retention of doubtful -property—that justice should be rendered to the -smallest boy as fairly as to the biggest man. Then he -straightened up, pushed back his coat and inserted his -thumbs in the arm holes of his vest. And there was -something in his smile and in his confident manner -that caused uneasiness in Ruth.</p> - -<p>"If I should go to your house, Cyrus, and carry off -a handsome sled with the name Hiawatha on it in blue -letters, refuse to give it back, and say 'findin's is keepin's—would -that be all right?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir, because you know it's my sled, and there's -no other like it."</p> - -<p>Again was Uncle Hector taken by surprise, and in -his face the two children saw signs of the hesitation -which often leads to defeat. Ruth's faith in Cyrus -rose yet higher. As she smiled at the tall figure behind -the counter her expression said as plainly as -words, "Nobody can get ahead of Cyrus."</p> - -<p>But Uncle Hector, while not prepared for such an -answer to his question, even now was unconquered. -"Cyrus," he said, "you'll make a great lawyer some -day. You are mighty good at an argument. But -suppose a stranger took that sled, and when you ran -after him and told it was yours, he should say 'findin's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> -is keepin's and refuse to give it up. Would that be -all right?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, no!"</p> - -<p>"Why not?"</p> - -<p>"Because I had told him it was mine."</p> - -<p>"Well, now, Mrs. Bennett bought seventy cents -worth of tea and sewing silk just before you and -Ruth came in. She laid a dollar bill on the counter -and I gave her the change—thirty cents. Then we -went away for a minute to the back of the store and -left it lying here. When I came back I found you -claimed it, saying 'findin's is keepin's.' So, if you keep -it, I lose seventy cents' worth of tea and sewing silk -and thirty cents in cash."</p> - -<p>Cyrus frowned, and looked sidewise at the bill. Ruth -also frowned. As she looked up at the jar that held -the striped candy tears came to her eyes. Uncle Hector -smiled pleasantly upon the two troubled faces and inquired -in his gentlest manner:</p> - -<p>"Now, Cyrus, just as man to man, whose bill do -you think it is?"</p> - -<p>Cyrus worked his lips, and looked away. He -stood firm on his legs, but inwardly he staggered -beneath the blow. It was a whole dollar, and gone—gone -forever, before he could spend it! He might -never have another. Full grown men have been known -to collapse under sudden loss of fortune. He dared -not look at Ruth. It might unnerve him for the sacrifice. -With tightened lips and blinking eyes he -reached up over the counter and silently pushed the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> -bill away, as far toward the new owner as his short -arm could do it.</p> - -<p>"Thank you, Cyrus," said Uncle Hector. "I knew I -was dealing with a man who would do the right thing -when he saw it. And now, let's have some candy together -and celebrate the occasion. What'll you have, -Ruth?" He moved his hand, at a guess, toward the -glass jar that held the pink candy with the white stripes.</p> - -<p>She nodded. "Yes, I like that best."</p> - -<p>He placed a stick of it in the lady's hand.</p> - -<p>"And you, Cyrus? The same, I suppose?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir. I'll have a cocoanut cake."</p> - -<p>Uncle Hector replaced the jar; then, as he laid the -cocoanut cake in the extended hand:</p> - -<p>"But you wanted the candy a minute ago; a whole -dollar's worth."</p> - -<p>"That's when I was treatin' Ruth. I thought it -would please her to think I liked what she liked."</p> - -<p>"But you don't care for that candy?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir."</p> - -<p>Uncle Hector's face took on a new expression. He -straightened up, lowered his chin, regarded the small -boy in front of him was a peculiar look, bent forward -and held an open palm quite close to the wondering -face.</p> - -<p>"Shake hands."</p> - -<p>Cyrus reached up and placed his small hand in the -extended palm.</p> - -<p>The large hand closed over the little one.</p> - -<p>"Cyrus, you are a gentleman."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_058.png" alt="Chapter IV image" /> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak">IV - -<span class="ch">MATRIMONIAL</span></h2> - -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="uppercase">A June</span> morning.</p> - -<p>The sky, this morning, is the bluest blue; the -air delicious. There is fragrance in it, of -buds, new grass and flowers. Also, in the air, is the -joy of living, and the promise of even better things -to come.</p> - -<p>But Ruth Heywood, sitting upon the front door -step of her father's house, seemed oblivious to the surrounding -rapture. Her thoughts were solemn. Half -an hour ago she had witnessed a marriage in her own -parlor. Her father, a clergyman, had united two lovers -in the bonds of matrimony. The ceremony had -deeply impressed the youthful witness, curled up in -the big arm chair near the window. And after the -departure of the happy couple she had been still -further, and yet more deeply impressed, by her father's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> -explanation of what the ceremony meant. Now, sitting -in the sunshine on the front steps, her youthful -mind was struggling with the marriage problem. It -certainly seemed a grand idea, this bringing together -of a man and woman to love each other dearly all the -rest of their lives, with no drawback, and to make each -other supremely happy, not only in this life but in -the life to come. The more she thought and the deeper -she went into this inviting subject the better she liked -it. And she wondered why anybody should delay an -hour before entering the holy state.</p> - -<p>From this maiden dream of everlasting bliss she -was gently awakened by peculiar sounds. These -sounds came from the lips of a jubilant boy, dancing -along the center of the street. If explanation were -necessary the sounds might be interpreted as a song -of praise to the Creator for producing such a perfect -day in such a wondrous world. To further emphasize -the joy of living the boy's arms were swinging above -his head and his eyes were heavenward. He wore a -blue and white checkered shirt-waist, brown knickers, -stockings of the same color and copper-toed shoes. -His hat, being a nuisance, had been left at home.</p> - -<p>With him was a dog. And the dog, even more than -his master, seemed intoxicated with present conditions. -The fact of being alive had stirred him to a -wild activity. At dazzling speed he was describing -circles about the size of a circus ring around the singing -boy. He traveled like a thing possessed and with -a velocity somewhat faster than a shooting star. And<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> -the eyes of Ruth Heywood, although young and active, -blinked as they tried to follow him.</p> - -<p>She called.</p> - -<p>"Drowsy!"</p> - -<p>Cyrus stopped, turned about and made a sweeping -bow. When he straightened up the maiden beckoned, -and said, "Come here."</p> - -<p>As he seated himself beside her, she asked:</p> - -<p>"Were you ever married, Cyrus?"</p> - -<p>For an instant the boy was taken aback. As he -turned and looked into the maiden's eyes, ready to -carry on the joke, he saw those eyes were more than -serious: they were almost tragic in their earnestness.</p> - -<p>"Why, of course not! I'm too young."</p> - -<p>"No, nobody is too young. It's a lovely, beautiful -thing and everybody ought to do it."</p> - -<p>Cyrus was clearly surprised; but, always polite to -ladies, he nodded his appreciation of the new truth. -"I didn't know. I thought only grown folks got -married."</p> - -<p>"No; it is everybody's duty. And it's my duty and -yours, too."</p> - -<p>Cyrus' eyebrows went up. "Me? Mine?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. It's a beautiful thing and makes us all better. -Father says so."</p> - -<p>"Did he say children, too?"</p> - -<p>Ruth hesitated. "He—he—said it makes everybody -better—more unselfish—and of course he meant nobody -is too young to be made better."</p> - -<p>Cyrus nodded. "I s'pose that's so."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> - -<p>"And I want to marry you," said Ruth.</p> - -<p>Cyrus nodded. "I'm ready, if it's a good thing."</p> - -<p>"It's a lovely thing."</p> - -<p>"What's the kind of good that it does?"</p> - -<p>"It makes us better."</p> - -<p>"Yes, but—but in what ways is a feller better?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, in every way."</p> - -<p>"Can he play ball any better?"</p> - -<p>"I guess so."</p> - -<p>"Is a married feller stronger and can he run faster -than the feller that isn't married?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes."</p> - -<p>"Well, that's a good deal. Does it take long to have -it done?"</p> - -<p>"Just a few minutes."</p> - -<p>As a new suspicion entered the mind of the prospective -groom he edged away a few inches. "Does it -hurt?"</p> - -<p>"What hurt?"</p> - -<p>"Getting married. Does a dentist do it—or something -like that?"</p> - -<p>Contemptuously the maiden answered. "'Course -not! You are a very ignorant boy. We just stand -up before father and say 'I will,' and 'Yes' and 'It is' -or 'I do' and short things like that. Father does all -the rest."</p> - -<p>Then Ruth explained the ceremony, and described -minutely the scene she had witnessed an hour ago in -her own home.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p> - -<p>"That's easy enough," said Cyrus. "Anybody can -say those things."</p> - -<p>"Everybody does it," said Ruth.</p> - -<p>Cyrus smiled; it seemed a smile of relief. "That's -funny. I'd always thought being married was kind -of important, and kind of—kind of—lasted a mighty -long time."</p> - -<p>"It does. It lasts forever. That is why it is so -beautiful and lovely. Everybody is better forever -and ever."</p> - -<p>Cyrus frowned. "I don't know."</p> - -<p>"Don't know what?"</p> - -<p>"I don't like the—the long time. S'pose we got -enough of it. We'd have to keep on just the same."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Cyrus! Would you get tired of me?"</p> - -<p>"No, 'course not! Nobody could ever do that! But -s'pose I died in a few days, would you have to be -married all the rest of your life to a dead boy?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, and I would be very faithful to your memory. -I would never marry anybody else and I would -put lovely flowers on your grave every day."</p> - -<p>"Ho! I don't believe that!"</p> - -<p>"Yes I would!"</p> - -<p>Cyrus put both hands on his knees, stiffened his -arms, straightened up and drew a long breath of the -morning air. "Anyway, I'd rather be alive."</p> - -<p>"Of course you would! So would almost anybody -for a time. But you are very silly and ignorant if you -think being married is going to kill you."</p> - -<p>"'Course I don't!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Then you mustn't say such things."</p> - -<p>"I guess I only just meant that if I was married -I'd rather be alive than dead. But what do we have -to do after we are married?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, everything—just what other folks do, of -course."</p> - -<p>"And what's that?"</p> - -<p>"Why—sit opposite each other at breakfast, go -around together, and own things together, and have -the same pew at church. You at one end and me at -the other, with our children between us."</p> - -<p>Cyrus frowned. "Our children?"</p> - -<p>Ruth nodded.</p> - -<p>"But I never heard of a boy eight years old having -real children."</p> - -<p>Ruth closed her eyes in solemn meditation. Cyrus, -after waiting in vain for an answer said, with a laugh: -"Think of me with real children, p'r'aps biggern I am! -They could lick me in a fight." And he laughed. -"That is funny, isn't it?" And he gave her arm a -shake, as if to wake her up.</p> - -<p>At the sound of laughter Zac, sitting on the step -below, cocked his ears, wagged his tail and sidled up -closer to Cyrus, who reached forward, gathered up -the loose skin at the back of Zac's neck and gave him -a friendly shake.</p> - -<p>"Anyway," said Ruth, "everybody ought to get married. -Your father and mother and my father and -mother were all married."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I s'pose they were."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Of course they were. They would be ashamed not -to. All good and wise people marry. Why, King -Solomon, who was wiser than anybody, had seven hundred -wives."</p> - -<p>"How many?"</p> - -<p>"Seven hundred."</p> - -<p>"Seven hundred! Oh, get out!"</p> - -<p>"But he did!"</p> - -<p>"Seven hundred, all alive at once?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"Jimminy! That seems an awful lot for one man, -doesn't it?"</p> - -<p>Ruth confessed that it did.</p> - -<p>"Nobody in Longfields has more than one, have -they?"</p> - -<p>Ruth mentioned several citizens, but could recall -none who had more than one wife.</p> - -<p>"If one," said Cyrus, "is enough for men around -here, why should your Solomon need seven hundred?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know. Perhaps the Bible tells."</p> - -<p>"P'r'aps," said Cyrus, "he was homely or mean or -something like that, and instead of one good one he -had to take seven hundred bad ones."</p> - -<p>"No, I don't believe it was that."</p> - -<p>Cyrus reflected a moment. "P'r'aps they were all -mighty good and there being so many of 'em was what -made Solomon so wise."</p> - -<p>"I shouldn't wonder."</p> - -<p>There came a silence. Then Cyrus straightened up -and spoke with emphasis. "I just don't believe he or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> -anybody else had seven hundred wives. It's too many. -It isn't likely, somehow. No feller would want that -much."</p> - -<p>"Why, Cyrus Alton! Don't you believe what the -Bible says?"</p> - -<p>"Yes—I—I—'course I believe it if you and the -Bible both say so, but seven hundred does seem a -mighty big lot." Then, as he looked away, over the -common, his eyes rested on two persons who stood -talking together across the way, and he asked:</p> - -<p>"Were Solomon's wives real live women like Mrs. -Strong and Mrs. Clapp, over there?"</p> - -<p>"Of course they were!"</p> - -<p>Cyrus closed his eyes. But through his ears came -the thin, far reaching, nasal voice of Mrs. Clapp. "Did -seven hundred women like that sit around the breakfast -table with Solomon every morning?"</p> - -<p>"I s'pose they did."</p> - -<p>For an instant Cyrus faltered. He lowered his eyes -and studied his shoes with the copper toes. There -might be a darker side to matrimony, a noisier, less -peaceful side, than Ruth had pictured. But, as he -turned and looked at his companion, it came upon him, -like a ray of sunshine that a hundred Ruths would be, -oh, so very different from a hundred Mrs. Clapps!</p> - -<p>"Did all those wives," he asked, "sit with Solomon -in one pew on Sunday?"</p> - -<p>Ruth made no answer.</p> - -<p>"Doesn't the Bible say anything about that?"</p> - -<p>"I don't remember."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Well, if they did, I say he must have had a mighty -long pew. Do you s'pose they all slept in the same -bed?"</p> - -<p>"Perhaps."</p> - -<p>Cyrus laughed. "Seven hundred wives in one bed! -Cracky! I guess old Solomon slept on the floor!"</p> - -<p>He turned and smiled into the girl's face. But he -saw no mirth, only surprise and disapproval as the -lovely eyes looked into his own. He was learning his -first lesson in the noble art of suppressing humor in -the presence of humorous things when taken seriously. -And he blushed at his own frivolity. Moreover, his -sympathy for the much married Solomon did not -weaken his allegiance to the girl beside him. There -was, to be sure, a peculiar excitement in the idea of -sitting at breakfast with seven hundred Ruths entirely -his own. Yet, somehow, the vision daunted him. -Even the vision of a hundred Ruths, all just alike, -filled him with a kind of awe—an awe of more things -than he could ever live up to. Seeking courage and -consolation, he looked down into the face of Zac as a -companion more like himself—on a lower spiritual -plane. Zac, still sitting in front of them, always looking -earnestly into the face of whoever was speaking, -appeared interested in the conversation. Cyrus -stroked his head, then stood up.</p> - -<p>"Let's go ahead with this marrying, if you say so. -But where's the fun of it?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, in doing such a beautiful thing—and being -better."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span></p> - -<p>"There's no great fun in being better. We are -good enough already."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Cyrus! Nobody is good enough already except -our fathers and mothers and ministers."</p> - -<p>Ruth's manner was solemn. The responsibility of -the enterprise seemed to rest entirely on her own -shoulders. While she was deciding, with far away -look, on the next step, Cyrus said:</p> - -<p>"There's a big circus picture on Mr. Wade's barn, -just stuck up this morning. It has a great big tiger -crawling up an elephant, and soldiers fighting Indians, -all big, in splendid colors! Come over and see it."</p> - -<p>Ruth frowned. In her very pretty eyes, as she -turned them in sadness on the prospective groom, was -pity—the almost tearful yet contemptuous pity with -which Wisdom looks on Folly.</p> - -<p>"Cyrus, you are just a boy. You don't understand -things."</p> - -<p>"Don't understand what things?"</p> - -<p>"How important this marriage is."</p> - -<p>"Oh, that's all right. I'm ready. Let's go ahead -now and have it over with. What do we do first?"</p> - -<p>"We must go in to father and ask him to marry us, -just as he did those people this morning."</p> - -<p>"All right. Come along."</p> - -<p>As the two children entered the house, Zac with a -bark of joy bounced into the hall ahead of them. It -was a loud bark, a piercing, youthful bark, that might -disturb a dozen clergymen if working on their sermons.</p> - -<p>Ruth stopped. "Hush, you horrid dog!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Zac, shut up!" said Cyrus. "Go back, and stay on -the porch."</p> - -<p>But Zac preferred to accompany the expedition. -Without openly refusing to obey, he merely bounced -about, just out of reach, wagged his tail and smiled -in the faces of the bride and groom.</p> - -<p>"Shall we let him come?" said Cyrus.</p> - -<p>Ruth hesitated, but only for an instant. "No. A -dog barking at a wedding would be unreligious."</p> - -<p>So Cyrus, by pleadings, threats and gentle force induced -his more worldly comrade to remain without. -But he said good-by to him as he turned away. For, -in parting with this bachelor friend, he may have had -feelings in common with other matrimonial heroes -when marching to the altar.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, the Rev. George Bentley Heywood, -father of the prospective bride, stood at the west -window of his study. His thoughts were far away. -In his hand was a letter from a friend in China. This -friend, a missionary, had presented, in eloquent and -convincing words, the various joys, spiritual, material -and social that attended the servant of God when converting -the heathen of the Orient.</p> - -<p>Mr. Heywood's imagination had responded to the -winged words and was already disporting itself in the -Chinese vineyard. There had been other letters, all -with the same message. And, now, standing at the -window with the letter in his hand, he was thinking, -and thinking hard, over the most important decision -of his life.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p> - -<p>Mr. Heywood was a serious man. Upon his person -lay no superfluous flesh. His face, otherwise severe, -was tempered by the eyes of a poet—eyes of a gentle, -somewhat solemn beauty. They were pleasant to look -into. Ruth had inherited these eyes, and in her childish -face they shone with an added beauty. They were -dreamy eyes, a soft brown-black with blacker lashes, -and either tragic or mirthful, as occasion called.</p> - -<p>When the study door opened—with no preliminary -knock—there was annoyance in the clergyman's manner -as his eyes turned toward the intruder. This time -there were two intruders,—Cyrus and his fiancée. -Mr. Heywood frowned when the two small people advanced -to the center of the room. He was in no mood -for answering children's questions. But, as he -frowned, Cyrus bowed—one of his best and most -elaborate efforts, bringing the heel of one foot against -the instep of the other, all with a gracious, sweeping -salutation of his free hand—the one that was not -leading Ruth. It was the greeting of one gentleman -of the old school to another, of deference and good -wishes. Mr. Heywood, partly, perhaps, from his -thoughts being in China, found himself also bowing -deferentially, as if to some exalted and venerable person. -Suddenly realizing the absurdity of such an -obeisance he straightened up and frowned again. Then -he spoke more harshly than if he had not blundered -into such a foolish action.</p> - -<p>"Well, children, what is it?"</p> - -<p>Cyrus spoke. "We have come to get married."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Who?"</p> - -<p>"We. We—us."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?"</p> - -<p>"Ruth and I want to get married."</p> - -<p>Mr. Heywood frowned again and blinked, as if to -summon his wandering wits, undecided whether to -believe or doubt his eyes and ears. His thoughts, -barely returned from China, seemed unequal to a sudden -grasp of the situation.</p> - -<p>"What are you saying?"</p> - -<p>"I am saying that Ruth and I want to get married."</p> - -<p>"Whose idea is this?"</p> - -<p>"Mine," said Ruth.</p> - -<p>As the father met the earnest eyes of his daughter -he almost smiled.</p> - -<p>"Where did you get such an idea, Ruth?"</p> - -<p>"From seeing the people you married this morning. -You said marriage was a beautiful thing."</p> - -<p>"So it is. So it is. But that was very different. -Only grown people marry, so run away, children. I -have no time for play this morning." And he turned -away and sat down at his desk.</p> - -<p>"But, Mr. Heywood," said Cyrus, "this is not play. -This is important."</p> - -<p>"Important? Why important, Cyrus?"</p> - -<p>"'Cause Ruth wants it."</p> - -<p>This time Mr. Heywood smiled. "That's a good -sentiment, Cyrus. It shows a kind regard for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> -lady. But run away, both of you. I am very busy this -morning."</p> - -<p>"But, Mr. Heywood," said Cyrus, "what's Ruth -done that she should be punished and not have what -she wants, and wants ever so much?"</p> - -<p>"How punished?"</p> - -<p>"By not getting what she wants."</p> - -<p>"And what do you say she wants?"</p> - -<p>"Me."</p> - -<p>The father laughed. "Oh, it's you she wants, is it?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir."</p> - -<p>Mr. Heywood drew a hand slowly across his mouth -as he looked inquiringly at Ruth.</p> - -<p>Ruth smiled and nodded. "Yes, sir."</p> - -<p>Her father also nodded as in polite recognition of -her wishes. Turning to Cyrus, he inquired, "What are -you going to live on? What is going to be your business?"</p> - -<p>"I'm going to be a discoverer, like Columbus."</p> - -<p>"I am afraid there won't be much left to discover by -the time you are a man—not on this earth, at least. -The big continents are already discovered."</p> - -<p>"But there will be new countries at the bottom of -the sea, and under the earth and on the moon, and such -places."</p> - -<p>"On <i>such</i> places! Dear me, Cyrus, do you think -of taking your wife to the moon?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir."</p> - -<p>"But how will you be supporting Ruth all that time? -A husband should be earning money."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Oh, that part'll be all right! I'm going to be a train -robber."</p> - -<p>"A train robber!"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir."</p> - -<p>Mr. Heywood whistled softly and looked at his -daughter. "Well—now—is that a nice business, Ruth, -for a model husband? Do you want to marry a train -robber?"</p> - -<p>Ruth smiled and nodded. "Yes, I shall always like -Cyrus and whatever he does."</p> - -<p>"But suppose Cyrus is imprisoned for life, or -hanged, as often happens to train robbers?"</p> - -<p>Cyrus interrupted, and spoke contemptuously. "No, -I shan't be that kind! It's only the stupid ones that's -caught!"</p> - -<p>Mr. Heywood closed his eyes for a moment and -appeared to be thinking it over. "Of course, it's possible,—just -possible, that you may change your mind -as you get older."</p> - -<p>"No, sir. 'Cause a man gets lots of money that way -and gets it quick and easy. And there'll be jewelry, -too. I shall give the jewelry to Ruth."</p> - -<p>"And I," said Ruth, "shall give lots of it to mother. -Mother likes jewelry."</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Mr. Heywood, "most women do. But -isn't stolen jewelry a little——"</p> - -<p>Again Cyrus interrupted. "But that won't be -stolen jewelry. When you steal anything you get it -when the other feller isn't looking—kind of sneakin'. -I shall take it right before their faces."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Yes, but you threaten to kill them if they resist. -That's robbery, isn't it?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir, but robbery isn't like stealing. It's more—more—it's -braver."</p> - -<p>"Braver? Possibly. And you really consider robbery -an honorable business?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes."</p> - -<p>"And I can help him," said Ruth; "we would work -together."</p> - -<p>Mr. Heywood looked from the cherubic lips of the -groom into the clear eyes of his superlatively conscientious -little daughter and murmured: "Yes, you would -be of great assistance." Then, after a pause:</p> - -<p>"Now, Cyrus, you and Ruth come to me twenty -years hence and if we are all alive and Ruth still wants -you I have no doubt we can arrange a wedding."</p> - -<p>"Twenty years!" exclaimed Ruth. "Why, father, -we shall all be dead!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, no! I trust not."</p> - -<p>"Or too old—too awful old!"</p> - -<p>"No, indeed! You will be twenty-seven. Call it -fourteen years, then you will be only twenty-one."</p> - -<p>"But," said Cyrus, "we may forget all about it in -fourteen years."</p> - -<p>"Then it will be no disappointment to you if you -can't marry. But run along now, children, I have no -more time for you." He spoke with such decision as -he began reading the letter in his hand that the unmarried -couple turned about and slowly vanished.</p> - -<p>When they passed out into the open air, a stranger<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> -might have thought, from the manner in which Zac -bounced with joy and lifted up his voice, that Cyrus -was emerging from the Valley of the Shadow of -Death. As they stood again on the porch, the corners -of Ruth's mouth were drooping. There were tears in -her irresistible eyes. Cyrus laid his hands on her -shoulders.</p> - -<p>"Now don't you feel bad, Ruthy. If you want to -be married, we just will."</p> - -<p>The maiden shook her head. "He said not."</p> - -<p>"No, he didn't. He only said he was busy."</p> - -<p>"He said only grown people got married."</p> - -<p>"But he didn't say children couldn't if they wanted -to."</p> - -<p>In the maiden's face came a brighter look. "Yes, -that is true, isn't it?"</p> - -<p>"'Course it is! And we will be doing something -new and different. It makes folks famous to be the -first to do things. Look at Christopher Columbus, and -look at Benjamin Franklin, the first man to fly a kite -and steer lightnin' and make it mind him."</p> - -<p>"Was he married when he was a child?"</p> - -<p>"Nobody knows. But if you and I are the first -children to get married—the very first, why our pictures -might be in history books."</p> - -<p>Ruth laughed. "That would be funny, wouldn't it?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, wouldn't it! And under it would be printed -Mr. and Mrs. Ruth Heywood."</p> - -<p>"Oh, no! It would be Mr. and Mrs. Cyrus Alton. -It's always that way."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Then we'll be the first ones to do it the new way. -We needn't do just like everybody else. But who's -going to wait fourteen years. Not us! If your father -is too busy to do it, we'll get somebody else."</p> - -<p>"Who?"</p> - -<p>"I dunno." And he looked away toward the common -and became thoughtful.</p> - -<p>Now Cyrus' ideas of matrimony were vague, and -impersonal. As a game it had never interested him. -He had given it no attention. On some other subject -he had definite views—such as war, baseball, voyages -of discovery, balloons, maple sugar, battleships -and the different kinds of ice cream. But this marriage -business, now that Ruth wanted it, had suddenly -become important. And when Ruth really wanted a -thing he felt that reason, religion and the Laws of -Man and Nature should stand aside. Moreover, Cyrus -was no quitter. He was not of those who are easily -discouraged. Persistence, the sort that stiffens in disaster, -was one of his dominant traits. A precious gift -on occasions; but there were times, in the bosom of -his own family, when it was not admired. As guides -to character the drowsy eyes and cherubic mouth were, -in this particular, misleading. Behind them lay the -tenacity of purpose which so often transforms defeat -into victory. In this present emergency there seemed -to him especial demand for achievement. Ruth wanted -something and when Ruth wanted something it was -not for him, nor for others, to reason why.</p> - -<p>So now, while the bride, crushed to earth, was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> -mourning the downfall of a high endeavor, her companion -had not accepted defeat. With roving eyes and -tight shut mouth he was seeking some other road to -victory.</p> - -<p>Inspiration came.</p> - -<p>Seeing no road to victory, up or down the village -street, his eyes turned heavenward. As they rested on -the spire of the Unitarian church, just across the way, -there came an answer to his appeal. It came through -the open windows of the church—the notes of an organ. -He turned and seized his fiancée by an arm.</p> - -<p>"Ruth! Listen!"</p> - -<p>"To what?"</p> - -<p>"To that music! It's Horace Phillips practising on -the organ!"</p> - -<p>Ruth nodded in acknowledgment of the fact, but -she saw no relation between the music and their late -rebuff.</p> - -<p>"We can go right over there and get married," said -Cyrus. "It doesn't matter who does it so long as it -is in a church and there's music."</p> - -<p>"Are you sure?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, of course! Ask anybody."</p> - -<p>There was nobody to ask, so he took her by the hand -and started forward. She held back. He pulled -harder. "Come along. There's the church all open; -and the organ playing. It's just the place to be -married."</p> - -<p>She yielded. "But there's no minister to do it."</p> - -<p>"That don't make any difference. As long as we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> -are married in a church with music, anybody can do -it."</p> - -<p>He spoke with authority—the kind that carries conviction -and puts an end to controversy.</p> - -<p>As they started, however, she again held back, and -exclaimed, in a final despair, "Oh, I forgot!"</p> - -<p>"Forgot what?"</p> - -<p>"The ring. We have to have a ring."</p> - -<p>"What's the use of a ring?"</p> - -<p>"Nobody is married without a ring. The man puts -a ring on the woman's finger and says things."</p> - -<p>"Well—I can say the things and we'll just play -there's a ring."</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>"Oh, come along!"</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>Now Cyrus had become interested in this business. -He felt a pride in carrying it through. To fail now -would be disgrace. In vexation he raised his right -hand—the one not holding Ruth's—and thrust its -thumb between his teeth. On that hand something -glistened.</p> - -<p>"Why, there's a ring!" exclaimed Ruth, "right on -your finger! Isn't it lucky."</p> - -<p>Cyrus regarded the little silver band.</p> - -<p>Ruth repeated: "Isn't it lucky!"</p> - -<p>Cyrus hesitated. "Do I have to give it to you?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"For you to keep and not give back?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, of course!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p> - -<p>"But Henry Wheelock made it for me out of a ten-cent -piece. I've only had it a little while."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Cyrus! Would you be so mean as that?"</p> - -<p>"I'm not mean! You know I'm not mean! Henry -Wheelock made it out of my own ten-cent piece and -I—I—don't want to lose it."</p> - -<p>A look of sorrow in Ruth's eyes suddenly changed -to contempt. "Then keep your old ring! I'm sure I -don't want it." And she pulled away the hand that -was in his, wheeled about and started to reënter the -house. But Cyrus caught her by the arm.</p> - -<p>"Oh, that's all right, Ruthy! You shall have it. -Come. Don't let's fight."</p> - -<p>So began this lovers' quarrel. But as often happens, -the male of the species besought and appealed, apologized, -promised everything, acknowledged guilt and -sufficiently humbled himself until Sweet Peace returned. -Then all was forgiven, and a second time they -started for the church. Zac brought up the rear.</p> - -<p>On the church steps sat Luther Dean and the New -Boy. The New Boy had lived in Longfields only a -few weeks. He differed, in many ways, from the other -boys of the village. He was blasé, and older in his feelings; -he came from a larger town and had seen more -of the world. His tendency, now,—natural, perhaps, -but unrepressed—was to despise more simple people. -He gave the impression among still younger boys of -having crowded into his ten years of life a red career -of war and piracy, of wild adventure, of reckless deeds -and thrilling escapes. These experiences were rather<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> -suggested than described, always in a casual off-hand -way, calmly and without excitement, in a voice and -manner tempered by the wisdom of the ages. And -his eyes, light blue and frigidly serene, moved slowly -from one listener to another in a weary but patient -condescension. His usual haunts, it appeared, were -the upper ether, and the deep sea, the cańon and the -prairie, the impenetrable forest, the decks of battleships -and fields of carnage.</p> - -<p>As the bridal couple approached the steps, Cyrus -called to Luther Dean and beckoned to him. Luther -came forward. So also did the New Boy—the Budding -Outlaw—although he was not invited; and his presence -embarrassed Cyrus, for this was a private business, -in a sense, and not for the general public. Besides, -Cyrus did not like the New Boy. However, he -braced up and put on a careless front.</p> - -<p>"We want you to marry us, Luther, now, here in -the church."</p> - -<p>Luther frowned, then smiled. "Me? Marry?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, marry us—Ruth and me."</p> - -<p>"Golly! I—I—never married anybody."</p> - -<p>"That don't matter. Anybody can do it."</p> - -<p>"But I'm too young. It takes a man."</p> - -<p>"No, it doesn't. Ruth can tell you what to say. It's -all easy. Come along."</p> - -<p>They entered the church; but Zac, like many of his -kind, was unpleasantly affected by music, so he remained -outside.</p> - -<p>Up the main aisle they started, Luther in front, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> -bride and groom behind, holding hands. In the gallery -above Horace Phillips was practising various -tunes, and the voice of the great organ filled the -church. To the bride and groom, both lovers of music, -the notes of the organ seemed more impressive than -ever in the now empty building.</p> - -<p>But the wedding procession had barely started up -the aisle when the ceremonies were rudely interrupted. -The Budding Outlaw, smarting perhaps at being ignored, -followed close behind and yielded to a vengeful -impulse. Ruth's hair, gathered by a ribbon behind -her head, was flowing down her back like a golden -mane. The Budding Outlaw reached forth and seized -a handful, then gave it a violent jerk, as if driving a -horse, and he said,</p> - -<p>"Hi there! Giddap; giddap!"</p> - -<p>Ruth cried aloud in pain, "Stop it! Oh, stop it! -It hurts!"</p> - -<p>She could not turn her head, but raised her hands -in vain efforts at protection.</p> - -<p>Cyrus wheeled about. "Let go that hair!"</p> - -<p>And he scowled in anger at the aggressor. But the -aggressor merely renewed the twitchings with: "Giddap -hossey. Giddap."</p> - -<p>"Let go that hair," once more said Cyrus.</p> - -<p>The Budding Outlaw, for answer, twitched the -golden hair again, and harder than before. As Ruth -in helpless agony was still raising her hands to her -head, Cyrus aimed a blow at the Budding Outlaw and -hit him in the face. But the Budding Outlaw was one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> -year older and one year bigger than Cyrus, and twenty -years cooler, more cynical and more blasé. So, without -even loosening his hold on the bride's hair, he -struck out with his free hand and landed full on -Cyrus's mouth. The blow was so well directed that -the recipient staggered back and stood for a second -or two as if dazed. On the Budding Outlaw's face -was a smile of easy victory—and contempt. Cyrus -saw it. In Ruth's face he saw torture and helpless -anger. Then he threw himself again at the enemy. -And again the enemy without loosening his left-hand -clutch on the golden hair, sent his fist against the approaching -face, landing full on its nose and followed -it by a sudden push. Cyrus staggered back across the -aisle and leaned against the nearest pew. He blinked, -and drew a hand across his bleeding mouth. His nose -seemed—to him—about twice its usual size and rapidly -growing bigger. Then Ruth, forgetting her own pain, -cried out:</p> - -<p>"Oh, Luther, Luther! Help Cyrus!"</p> - -<p>But, either from wisdom or some other reason, -Luther refrained from interfering. He looked at -Ruth, then down at the floor, then up again at the -Budding Outlaw, now terrible in his easy triumph. -Ruth called again to him, yet more urgent—a passionate -appeal for help. It was the cry of one old playmate -to another, for the rescue of a bosom friend. -But the organ above was pouring forth its music and -Luther turned away, pretending not to hear the cry.</p> - -<p>Cyrus, during this moment's lull, did some rapid<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> -thinking. He saw the folly of his previous attacks. -So, as Ruth was uttering her second appeal to his lukewarm -friend, he advanced again, but more slowly than -before, ducked his head and dodged a blow, then -jumped, and closed with the enemy. And to the Budding -Outlaw it seemed as if a dozen boys were on him. -Blows rained upon his face. Copper toed shoes were -hammering, with the rage of demons, against his sensitive -shins. He let go the maiden's hair, as all his -hands were none too many for this peaceable boy now -suddenly transformed into a reckless and bloodthirsty -athlete. He could not reach Cyrus's face, as that face, -for protection, was pressed close against the Outlaw's -own chest. And when, at last, he got both hands -against Cyrus's face and body to push him off he felt -ten fingers tighten about his throat with a grip that -scared him. For now, as the two iron thumbs were -pressing his windpipe with murderous power, he -realized that this boy was fighting with the fury and -the strength of those who fight for victory or for -death. He gurgled, gasped, pulled Cyrus's hair and -beat wildly at his head. But when a man is fighting -for the woman of his choice—or for any other holy -cause—he has the strength of many. So with Cyrus. -The tearing of his hair, the blows upon his head and -face and body were as summer zephyrs. For him, at -the moment, death could have no terrors. He was in -this struggle for victory or annihilation.</p> - -<p>No boy can live without breathing, and the Budding -Outlaw's strength was going. Cyrus forced him to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> -the floor. Then, knowing nothing of the Rules of -the Ring, he hammered him in the face and jammed -his knees into his stomach, as if to kill.</p> - -<p>At last, after a final blow and jab and kick, he -climbed to his feet, stepped back and looked down at -him. Ruth seized him by an arm and tried to drag -him from the church.</p> - -<p>"Come! Come quick, before he gets up!"</p> - -<p>But a change had come over the once peaceful -groom. The lust of battle was in him. He paid no -attention to her words. Breathing hard, with bruises -on his face, his lips bleeding, he beckoned to the figure -on the floor as if angry at delay:</p> - -<p>"Come along. Get up."</p> - -<p>But the Dare-devil of the West, the killer of Indians, -the Pirates' Terror, had no intention of rising. -Enough was sufficient for this Despiser of Peace, this -Tormentor of Brides. To fight in orderly fashion with -a boy you know you can lick—that's one thing. But to -struggle with wild animals, cyclones and supernatural -forces that ignore the rules of war and really mean -to kill you, and will,—unless you can get away,—that's -very different. Moreover, something was telling him -now that a big will in a little body can demolish giants. -He knew he was stronger than Cyrus, but the thing -with which he had so suddenly become acquainted was -the spirit within this smaller boy—the same old spirit -that stirred the Greeks at Marathon, and the handful -of Lexington farmers. And now, before him, with -the swelling nose and bleeding lips, glowered the embodiment<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> -of that immortal spirit. The Tormentor of -Brides suspected, and his suspicions were correct, that -if he hurled this boy a dozen times against the opposite -pews he would still come at him, and each assault -would be more deadly than its predecessor.</p> - -<p>Cyrus, again ignoring the Rules of the Ring, stepped -forward and kicked him. "Come, get up! Get up. -Finish it!"</p> - -<p>Slowly the New Boy shook his head, with a gesture -of defeat. He muttered something too low to hear—words -drowned in the notes of the organ. He refused -to rise.</p> - -<p>Then Cyrus turned and held out his hand to Ruth. -In drawing the back of a fist across his mouth during -the conflict his cheeks had become smeared with blood. -As Ruth stared in a kind of terror at this gory visage -with riotous hair, swelling nose and still bleeding lips, -she saw in the erstwhile drowsy eyes a look that was -unfamiliar; a look of determination, as if no arguments -from God or man or devil would be considered. -Weak and all atremble, her one desire was for hurrying -home. But she obeyed the unspoken mandate and -laid her hand in his. Then Luther, also in obedience -to an unspoken command, this time a peremptory gesture -toward the pulpit, again started up the aisle. And -it so happened as the little assemblage resumed its interrupted -progress the great organ in the gallery burst -forth with Wagner's "Wedding March"; and it filled -the church.</p> - -<p>The marriage ceremony passed off well;—that is,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> -of course,—making allowance for the officiating person -who had no knowledge of what he ought to say, or -of what he was saying. With constant promptings and -corrections from the bride—who although somewhat -hysterical at the moment, had a remarkable memory -for the sound of words—Luther managed to get along. -To misunderstand certain promptings was excusable, -for the music was confusing. Horace Phillips, in the -gallery, ignorant of what was happening below, had -started off with the full force of the organ, and he -continued with enthusiasm until the swelling notes -resounded through the empty building.</p> - -<p>Ruth supplied all the language.</p> - -<p><i>Luther.</i> Will you take this wedded girl for your -wife?</p> - -<p><i>Cyrus.</i> I will.</p> - -<p><i>Luther.</i> Will you take this wedded boy for your -husband?</p> - -<p><i>Ruth.</i> I will.</p> - -<p><i>Luther.</i> Do you promise to endure with all your -worldly goods?</p> - -<p><i>Cyrus.</i> I do.</p> - -<p><i>Luther.</i> Will you hold on for better than worse?</p> - -<p><i>Ruth.</i> I will.</p> - -<p><i>Luther.</i> You promise to obey?</p> - -<p><i>Cyrus.</i> I do.</p> - -<p><i>Luther.</i> Until death departs, richer or poorer and -cherish.</p> - -<p><i>Ruth.</i> I do.</p> - -<p><i>Cyrus.</i> It is.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></p> - -<p><i>Luther.</i> I denounce you as man and wife.</p> - -<p><i>Cyrus.</i> I do.</p> - -<p><i>Ruth.</i> No, Cyrus, you say nothing.</p> - -<p><i>Cyrus.</i> Nothing.</p> - -<p><i>Ruth.</i> No, no! You don't say anything—just keep -still.</p> - -<p><i>Luther.</i> With this ring I you wed.</p> - -<p><i>Cyrus.</i> No. <i>I</i> say that!</p> - -<p>He said it, and with heroic self-control bade a silent -farewell to his silver treasure as he slipped it on a -finger of the bride. Then, to the rejoicing music, they -marched down the aisle.</p> - -<p>Outside the church the bride, who feared a renewal -of the conflict, looked about with anxious eyes for the -Budding Outlaw. But she had no cause for alarm. -The Budding Outlaw was visible, far down the street, -beyond the common, marching with humble mien, reflecting -sadly on the uncertainties of human life.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_087.png" alt="Chapter V image" /> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak">V - -<span class="ch">HE MEETS TWO LADIES</span></h2> - -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="uppercase">Miss</span> Anita Clement was the maiden lady -who had rented, with her two unmarried sisters, -Mr. David Lothrop's house at the west -end of the village. She had a girlish figure, good features -and soulful eyes. Her exact age was somewhere -between twenty-five and forty. This lady's delicate -beauty was impaired a trifle by a nervous mouth -which told, in spite of all efforts to the contrary, that -its owner was easily annoyed, and was a stranger to -the various blessings of a tranquil spirit. She had no -sense of humor; but this deficiency was counterbalanced -by a profound respect for the conventions of -life, and by a sincere and humble adoration of her own -religious creed, with a corresponding contempt for all -others. Her dominant attribute was timidity. Compared -with Miss Clement, the average mouse was a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> -fearless desperado. As is usually the case with such -temperaments, her nerves were assertive.</p> - -<p>This particular November afternoon they seemed -to have started a revolt throughout her whole interior -mechanism; and she decided to consult a physician. -So she walked out to Dr. Alton's house. On this walk—about -two miles—she passed a group of boys playing -with a football. Now boys, to Miss Clement, -were the living emblems of noise and danger. Her -one dread concerning a future existence was the possibility -of there being boys in Heaven. And, in this -life, the things she dreaded most were fire, burglars, -run-away horses, smallpox and boys. Her sympathy -with boys was akin to her sympathy with thunderstorms -and pirates. In passing boys in the street or on -the common she held her breath in nervous terror, expecting -to be struck by a baseball, or bat or stone, -green apple or snow-ball, according to season. Only in -color and in clothing did she recognize any difference -between boys and Comanche Indians. She loved Law -and Order; whereas, to a boy, Law and Order were -merely bars to freedom. She had reasons for believing -that the highest ambition of every normal boy -under twelve years of age was to become an influential -outlaw. And she was not far wrong.</p> - -<p>This being Saturday afternoon, and no school, the -earth seemed swarming with these offensive creatures. -However, by going around the common instead of -across it, she reached Dr. Alton's house alive—and -rang the bell. The door was opened by yet another<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> -boy, eight or nine years of age. Miss Clement, being -a newcomer in the town, had not the honor of this -child's acquaintance. Knowing all boys to be barbarians, -with no manners, she was surprised when this -one acknowledged her presence with a smile of welcome -and a ceremonious bow. It was the kind of -salutation that Louis XIV would have given to the -Queen of Spain. She might have expected it from an -elderly dancing master, but never from a boy in this -New England village. Taken by surprise, she was -silent a moment, fearing this youthful savage, perhaps -more uncivilized even than other boys, was amusing -himself at her expense. A good look at his face, however, -allayed suspicion. In his calm eyes and radiant -smile there was nothing but pleasure at seeing her. -Beside him stood—or rather bounced—a youthful dog. -He was a fox terrier. Judging from the activity of -his tail and from the general expression of his person, -the arrival of the visitor was affording him joy and -excitement. In a tentative bark he told his welcome.</p> - -<p>But Miss Clement hesitated. Her dread of boys was -only equaled by her aversion to dogs. How a civilized -person could live in the same house with a dog she -had never been able to understand. Their manners -and customs were unspeakable. And the exuberant -vitality of this dog annoyed her. His joy was unreasoning -and intemperate. He wagged his tail with -such energy as to sway his entire person. Judging -from outward vibrations his very soul was wagging. -He gave the impression—to this visitor—of having a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> -frivolous nature. And she found solace in the thought -that, later on, he would be made to realize that life -was a serious thing.</p> - -<p>"Is Dr. Alton at home?" she inquired.</p> - -<p>"No, ma'am,"</p> - -<p>"Do you know when he will return?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, very soon! Won't you walk in?" and he -stepped aside, holding the door wide open. At the -same time, he waved with his free hand a courtly gesture -toward the interior of the house. Inwardly disturbed -by this unexpected deportment of a barbarian, -Miss Clement walked into the sitting-room and seated -herself on a sofa, near the open fire. It was a large -cheerful room with white woodwork and a pale green -paper on the walls, somewhat faded in places near the -sunny windows. Scattered over the large center table -were many books and periodicals. On the floor in -front of her was a pair of scissors and a family Bible. -The Bible was open and three of its illustrations, recently -extracted, were lying beside it. The author of -this mutilation climbed into a large arm chair directly -opposite, sitting very erect, as if on his best behavior. -He was watching her with undisguised interest and -approval.</p> - -<p>But the dog was inclined to be familiar. He -jammed his nose against her skirt and ankles and -sniffed in a most offensive way. The boy saw that -these things annoyed her and he called off the brute, -rebuked him and apologized to the visitor. "I guess -you have a dog, and Zac smells him."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p> - -<p>Miss Clement, with some severity, denied the accusation. -"Indeed, I have no dog." And it was clear -from her manner that she had no such associates.</p> - -<p>Now all boys were alike to Miss Clement. The -only striking features in this one's face were his eyes. -Their heavy lids, coming far down over the iris, gave -a half shut, drowsy look to his face, and Miss Clement -felt sorry that his parents should be afflicted with such -a stupid child. His fat, cherubic little mouth, however, -seemed to indicate a cheerful spirit. As the two -sat facing each other, the young male and the adult -super-civilized female, the lady from some undefined -reason felt ill at ease. Yet she knew that nothing was -more absurd than a woman of her age being ill at -ease in the presence of a nine-year-old boy. As she -looked again into his eyes she began to realize that -their very drowsiness gave an impression of abnormal -serenity and repose—as of concealing hidden depths -of wisdom. Also they seemed to be sitting in judgment -on her. The fact of his being a boy aroused antipathy. -Although she knew that many good men had -once been boys, as certain butterflies have once been -worms. Moreover, she knew it was not really his own -fault that he had come into the world in that form. -They were necessary evils, like taxes and old age.</p> - -<p>"Are you Dr. Alton's son?" she asked.</p> - -<p>"Yes, ma'am."</p> - -<p>"What is your name?"</p> - -<p>"Cyrus."</p> - -<p>While Miss Clement was wondering why New<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> -Englanders persisted in giving such names to helpless -children she was startled by his saying, regretfully:</p> - -<p>"You don't like that name."</p> - -<p>"Not like it? Why do you think I don't like it?"</p> - -<p>"I know by your face."</p> - -<p>Miss Clement blushed. The tranquil eyes were looking -sadly into her own as if investigating in a friendly -way her most secret thoughts. She became embarrassed.</p> - -<p>"Why, yes—I like it."</p> - -<p>"It is better than some other names."</p> - -<p>"Indeed it is! Very much better!"</p> - -<p>"It is the name of a great conqueror."</p> - -<p>"Yes—of course—and—perhaps you may be a -great conqueror yourself when you grow up."</p> - -<p>"No. I don't care for that business. I shall sit on -the high seat of a big, gold band-wagon of a circus -full of splendid music, with eight white horses. I shall -drive the horses and listen to the music."</p> - -<p>"Yes, that will be very nice."</p> - -<p>The room seemed warm after the November chill -outside, and Miss Clement drew off her thick gloves. -As her left hand dropped carelessly beside her, upon -the edge of the sofa, she felt a sickening contact with -something warm and very wet. Quickly she withdrew -the hand. With an exclamation of disgust, she held -aloft the befouled member. But the dog, whose generous -tongue by one lingering stroke yielded such a -vast amount of moisture, had risen upon his hind legs -to accomplish it, and now stood looking up into her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> -face for recognition of the friendly act. His reward -was a look of loathing. And for a moment she still -held aloft the varnished hand, uncertain what to do.</p> - -<p>The boy laughed. "Why, it's nothing but dog spit!"</p> - -<p>He drew forth from his pocket a handkerchief.</p> - -<p>With two steps forward he offered it to the lady. As -he did so he bowed with the pretentious grace of a -Chesterfield advancing to the relief of Beauty. But -Miss Clement recoiled. For on this handkerchief were -blood stains—also mud—and green paint. Too much -disgusted to think of manners, she ignored his offer -and used her own handkerchief. But she shrank from -replacing it in a clean pocket.</p> - -<p>Looking down at the floor she frowned.</p> - -<p>"I hope it was not you who cut those pictures from -that nice book."</p> - -<p>The Vandal smiled, and nodded, giving the impression -of pride in the work.</p> - -<p>"Are you the only person in the house?" she asked.</p> - -<p>"Yes, ma'am. Joanna's gone to the store."</p> - -<p>Again she frowned down at the litter on the floor. -"Does your mother know what you have been doing -here?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, no!"</p> - -<p>"Has she never told you not to cut up books?"</p> - -<p>"No, ma'am."</p> - -<p>Miss Clement frowned again, and stiffened a little.</p> - -<p>"And your father? Does he allow you to do such -things?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I don't know. I didn't ask him. Are you fond of -pictures?"</p> - -<p>"Yes—I am fond of pictures."</p> - -<p>He got down from his chair, picked up the three -engravings, came and stood beside her, leaning against -her knees. He laid the pictures in her lap and asked -which she liked the best.</p> - -<p>One engraving showed Joshua commanding the sun -to stand still; one showed Elijah going to Heaven in -his fiery chariot; and the other—she almost blushed as -she looked at it—showed Susanna and the elders. Susanna -wore no clothing and the elders were shocking -old men.</p> - -<p>"Which do you like best?" he repeated.</p> - -<p>She pointed to Joshua.</p> - -<p>"Which next?"</p> - -<p>She pointed to Elijah.</p> - -<p>"Now—I don't care for that feller himself," he -said, "but I like the pretty lady. Best of all, though, -I think, is the horses and the chariot going right up into -the sky. Just think of it!" he exclaimed; "just think -of going way up into the sky! I think I shall do it -myself! Did he really go up that way with those fat -horses?"</p> - -<p>"No, I think not."</p> - -<p>"Then it's a fairy story."</p> - -<p>"No, it's a Bible story."</p> - -<p>"What's the difference?"</p> - -<p>"Bible stories are true stories and fairy tales are -made-up stories."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p> - -<p>"But you just said this man didn't go up to Heaven -with a span of horses."</p> - -<p>"Not in just that way—probably."</p> - -<p>"Did he go up at all?"</p> - -<p>Miss Clement hesitated. "Well—I suppose he did, -perhaps."</p> - -<p>"I betcher he couldn't go up in any way like that -with horses treading on nothing but air."</p> - -<p>Miss Clement had not come to this house for a theological -argument. But she said nothing and merely -heaved a sigh, a sigh of weariness.</p> - -<p>But the boy was still fresh. "What was this man's -name?"</p> - -<p>"Elijah."</p> - -<p>"Elijah what?"</p> - -<p>"I don't think he had a last name."</p> - -<p>"Where did he live?"</p> - -<p>"Off in the East."</p> - -<p>"If any one should write him a letter, asking him -how he went up that way, and addressed the envelope -just Elijah, off in the Yeast—would he get it?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, no; he died long, long ago.</p> - -<p>"Well, anyway, I am going up myself, some day, -but not with horses. Horses couldn't do it. When I -go I shall go with a kite, a big kite with a long string. -I shall have a box kite. You know what a box kite is?"</p> - -<p>"I think so."</p> - -<p>"Well, it will be a big box kite longer'n this room, -with me sitting inside and Luther Dean flying it. When<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> -it gets ten miles up in the air I shall reach down with -long scissors and cut the string."</p> - -<p>As he stepped back to study the effect of this news, -she found his drowsy eyes were no longer drowsy, but -wider open and all aglow with enthusiasm. "That's -my own idea!"</p> - -<p>She smiled and nodded. "Yes, it is very original."</p> - -<p>"And then I shall sail way up as high as I want to. -Perhaps to the moon!"</p> - -<p>"Yes, that will be very nice."</p> - -<p>"What's the use of crawling about on the earth -like a bug? I'd rather be a bird."</p> - -<p>Miss Clement nodded assent and lowered her eyes -to the mutilated Bible. But his enthusiasm was contagious. -She almost believed, for a moment, that he -could do it. However, she was uncomfortable in the -presence of this barbarian. She knew, from experience, -the awful frankness of a boy; the statements he -can make, and his cruel questions; questions that upheave -religions, that lay bare your secret doubtings -and impugn the wisdom and the motives of the -Creator himself. A boy's thirsty, delving little mind -is never satisfied with your easy answer that "the ways -of the Almighty are inscrutable." As this interview -proceeded she realized—and to her chagrin—that there -was something about this vandal that caused her a -peculiar kind of restraint and self-consciousness—almost -diffidence. Being distinctly a nervous person -and gently irritated at her own self-consciousness, Miss -Clement looked about the room, over the boy's head,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> -with an expression somewhat more severe than the -situation required. But his instincts of hospitality -were not so easily suppressed. Pointing to a dish of -fruit on a further table, he asked:</p> - -<p>"Won't you have an apple?"</p> - -<p>"No, I thank you."</p> - -<p>He seemed disappointed. Then as his eyes rested -on a little music box that lay on the table beside him, -he exclaimed, with enthusiasm: "You like good -music?"</p> - -<p>In her own voice there was less enthusiasm as she -answered, "Yes, I—think I—do."</p> - -<p>Miss Clement suddenly realized—as happens with -nervous people—that she was annoyed by these foolish -questions. Instead of replying she straightened up -and looked first at the clock, then at the boy. She -found him gazing at her earnestly, as if trying to read -her thoughts.</p> - -<p>"This music box," he said, with signs of embarrassment, -"plays five lovely tunes: The Last Rose of Summer, -Hear Me, Norma, The Carnival of Ven——"</p> - -<p>"Not now," she interrupted.</p> - -<p>Had her host been an older man, with a knowledge -of women—if such is possible—this unexpected -change of manner would have been a warning.</p> - -<p>"It's four o'clock," she added hastily, and her smiles -had vanished. "Are you the only person in the -house?"</p> - -<p>Taken aback, and obviously mortified by this sudden -change of manner, he took a backward step and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> -replaced the music box on the table. In his face, with -a slight quivering of the lips, came the first signs of -embarrassment he had shown. He bowed: not the -gracious, self-possessed, courtly salutation of a kingly -welcome with which he had first greeted her, but a -solemn inclination of the head, as one who humbles -himself—but gracefully—before an angry deity. And -he murmured:</p> - -<p>"I am sorry."</p> - -<p>Her eyebrows went up. "Sorry for what?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know—exactly."</p> - -<p>For an instant she failed to understand. Then into -her face came a gentler expression. "Yes, you do! -You are sorry because you think you have troubled -me; but it is I who beg your pardon. I am ashamed -of myself. You have given me a lesson in politeness."</p> - -<p>And she smiled her sweetest smile. Whereupon the -sunshine returned to his own face. Encouraged by -this change of atmosphere, he resumed with new courage -his rôle of host. For a moment he studied her -face, uncertain as to what was expected of him. Folding -his hands above his head, he glanced about the -room, searching for inspiration. It came. His face -brightened. The slumbrous eyes sparkled. Coming -a step nearer, he demanded with suppressed enthusiasm:</p> - -<p>"Do you care for snakes or mice?"</p> - -<p>The visitor regarded him with a kind of terror.</p> - -<p>She frowned, turned her face to one side and shook -her head. The host misunderstood the movement.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p> - -<p>"But it's no trouble. I can get them both. They are -right here in the woodshed." And he started toward -the door.</p> - -<p>"Come back," she said, "I don't care to see either -of them."</p> - -<p>"But the snake is dead and the mouse won't bite. -He knows me."</p> - -<p>Miss Clement shuddered: "No! No! Don't speak -of them again! Come back."</p> - -<p>He came back. She knew, and had always known, -that boys themselves were a species of reptile. She -felt, at this moment, that whatever this boy did must -be regarded from that point of view—and forgiven. -And as she wondered how a benevolent Creator could -permit, in a decently ordered world, the existence of -boys, the Vandal exclaimed in a reflective tone, but -with a smile of amusement:</p> - -<p>"Women are funny!"</p> - -<p>At that moment the grandfather clock in the corner -struck four. Miss Clement frowned in that direction. -"When did Dr. Alton say he would be back?"</p> - -<p>"He didn't say."</p> - -<p>"But you told me he would return soon."</p> - -<p>"Yes, ma'am."</p> - -<p>"But you really don't know when?"</p> - -<p>"No, ma'am."</p> - -<p>"Then you told a fib."</p> - -<p>The Vandal smiled and nodded. "Yes, ma'am."</p> - -<p>"But that is wrong, you know. You should always -tell the truth."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Yes, ma'am. But I thought it would be good to -have you come in, and sit."</p> - -<p>Miss Clement almost frowned and smiled in one -expression. "But you did wrong. Doesn't your -mother punish you for telling such fibs?"</p> - -<p>"No, ma'am."</p> - -<p>"Is she not at home?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, no!"</p> - -<p>"When do you expect her?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, never!"</p> - -<p>"Never?"</p> - -<p>The drowsy eyes, in astonishment, opened a little -wider. "Of course not. She is dead."</p> - -<p>"Oh, that is too bad! I am very sorry. Was it -long ago that she died?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes! Long, long ago. More than twenty -years."</p> - -<p>"More than twenty years! I think you must be mistaken. -How old are you?"</p> - -<p>"Nine next July."</p> - -<p>"Then your mother could not have died twenty -years ago."</p> - -<p>"Yes. She died long before I was born."</p> - -<p>Miss Clement slowly shook her head. "But not -twenty years. That is impossible."</p> - -<p>"But she did."</p> - -<p>"Then she was your step-mother perhaps?"</p> - -<p>"No. My own mother."</p> - -<p>This conversation was becoming so very absurd that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> -Miss Clement made no answer. She merely looked -away—and studied the room.</p> - -<p>The boy smiled as if amused at her ignorance. -"Don't you understand how it was?"</p> - -<p>The lady's only reply was to close her eyes wearily. -But he stepped nearer and laid a hand on each of her -knees, to wake her up.</p> - -<p>"Don't you see," he said, "the difference between -eight and twenty is twelve, isn't it?"</p> - -<p>"It is."</p> - -<p>"Well, then she must have been dead twelve years -when I was born."</p> - -<p>Now Miss Clement could never do arithmetic. She -abominated figures, and these words were uttered with -so much conviction—reënforced by the wisdom of his -eyes—that her brain became tangled for a moment. -It seemed to shrink, in a sort of nervous bewilderment, -from this fantastic puzzle. He smiled at her -obvious confusion, moved backward a step or two, -folded his hands behind him and squirmed with delight. -"It's funny you don't understand. I guess I -am smarter than you are."</p> - -<p>Miss Clement shut tight her lips and looked away—anywhere. -Her own brain seemed laughing at her.</p> - -<p>"I s'pose," said the Vandal, "I don't need a mother -much."</p> - -<p>"Every boy needs a mother. Is Joanna your -sister?"</p> - -<p>He laughed at such an absurd mistake. "No! She's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> -lots older than you are. She's housekeeper—and lots -of things."</p> - -<p>Miss Clement looked about the room, at the pictures -on the walls. They were mostly engravings and -photographs.</p> - -<p>"Is there a portrait of your mother here?"</p> - -<p>"No, ma'am."</p> - -<p>"Not anywhere in the house?"</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>"There must be a photograph."</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>"Are you sure?"</p> - -<p>"Yes'm."</p> - -<p>"That is very strange."</p> - -<p>"Why?"</p> - -<p>"Because—because—it is most unusual. Did she -die here in this house?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, no! Of course not!"</p> - -<p>"Why of course not?"</p> - -<p>"Because she died in Italy."</p> - -<p>"Was she Italian?"</p> - -<p>"I guess so."</p> - -<p>"Have you never seen a portrait of her?"</p> - -<p>"No, ma'am."</p> - -<p>Miss Clement frowned. There seemed to be a mystery -here. Possibly a scandal of some sort. And her -interest quickened. "I suppose your father talks to -you about her sometimes."</p> - -<p>"No, ma'am."</p> - -<p>"Never?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span></p> - -<p>"No, ma'am."</p> - -<p>"Of course he has told you where you were born?"</p> - -<p>"P'r'aps."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps what?"</p> - -<p>"P'r'aps he did."</p> - -<p>"But you don't remember?"</p> - -<p>"No, ma'am."</p> - -<p>Nobody likes to be thwarted in the pursuit of knowledge. -In this case it seemed to Miss Clement that the -deeper she delved the less she found.</p> - -<p>"Don't you remember ever having seen a portrait -of her?"</p> - -<p>"Of course not."</p> - -<p>"Why of course not?"</p> - -<p>"Because there isn't any."</p> - -<p>This seemed a good reason. But Miss Clement felt -that either she—or this boy—was being deceived.</p> - -<p>The Vandal, whose drowsy eyes had scarcely moved -from the study of her face since she entered the room, -saw the look of disappointment. It was a somewhat -petulant expression in which she would not have indulged -had her host been twenty years older. But -he saw it so clearly that he was moved to sympathy. -With all the joy and enthusiasm of a great idea, he -exclaimed: "My father may know all about her. I -will ask him to tell you!"</p> - -<p>A chill of horror swept up Miss Clement's spine. -She suddenly realized what awful mischief a youthful -savage—either from ignorance or perversity—might<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> -accomplish. She stood up. "No! Don't mention it -to him—nor to anybody."</p> - -<p>"Why not?'</p> - -<p>"Because you mustn't."</p> - -<p>She could see, in the Vandal's face as he looked up -at her, that he enjoyed this—to him—unaccountable -fright. He even laughed. "There's nothing to be -afraid of."</p> - -<p>"No, of course not!" And she tried to smile. -"But promise me you will not ask your father, nor -anybody else."</p> - -<p>To this super-sensitive lady there appeared in his -uplifted eyes a cruel, triumphant delight, as he said—"Why -did you ask if you don't want to know about -her?"</p> - -<p>"Merely in the way of conversation." And she -added, with her sweetest smile—"merely from a -friendly interest. You are a nice boy, and you understand, -I am sure."</p> - -<p>He nodded; but his eyes, in their slumbrous wisdom, -seemed almost contemptuous.</p> - -<p>"Promise me," she insisted. "Promise me you will -say nothing about it to anybody."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I promise."</p> - -<p>"You are a nice little boy—and I must go, now. I -will call again in a day or two. Good by."</p> - -<p>He bowed as he said good-by. Then he followed -her out into the hall, ran before her and held the door -wide open. As she passed out he bowed again; the -same deferential obeisance with which he had first<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> -greeted her—as from Louis XIV to the Queen of -Spain.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>As Miss Clement crossed the common on her way -home she saw a group of children looking skywards, -and she heard the word "Eagle." She stopped, and -also looked up. And as she looked, and watched the -bird, floating tranquilly in the upper air, in a wide, -slow circle, majestically, with no apparent effort, so -high above the earth that he might be a visitor from -another planet—she recalled the words of her recent -host: "What's the use of crawling about on the earth -like a bug? I'd rather be a bird."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>An hour later Dr. Alton returned afoot. He had -left his horse in the village to be shod. As he walked -up the driveway he noticed a figure standing on the -mounting block before the house. It was so enveloped -in the golden glories of a setting sun that Dr. Alton -failed, at first, to recognize his own son. The figure -seemed a part of the sunset—more an ethereal spirit -than an earthly boy. Cyrus was standing erect and -motionless, his head thrown back as if inhaling inspiration -from the radiance about him. Such prolonged -and voluntary immobility would be unusual in any boy. -Moreover, Cyrus maintained this attitude, forgetting—or -ignoring—the customary greeting to his father. -After waiting a moment before his strangely indifferent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> -son, a feeling of uneasiness began to mingle with -Dr. Alton's surprise.</p> - -<p>At the foot of the block sat Zac, looking up at the -silent boy. And Zac, also, might be a little off in his -mind for he, too, failed to welcome or even to notice -the returning parent.</p> - -<p>At last Dr. Alton spoke. "What's the matter, Cyrus? -Dreaming you are a bird?"</p> - -<p>Slowly Cyrus lowered his face, his eyes still shut. -And slowly the eyes were opened as if waking from -a sleep. They showed a mild surprise at his father's -presence. But he answered, in a low voice, as if his -spirit still lingered elsewhere:</p> - -<p>"Somebody wants us."</p> - -<p>"Who?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know."</p> - -<p>"But you know who told you."</p> - -<p>"No, sir. Nobody told me."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean, Cyrus? Wake up. Is it an -emergency call?"</p> - -<p>Cyrus raised a hand and pointed before him, toward -the south.</p> - -<p>"It comes from off there."</p> - -<p>Dr. Alton frowned, less from irritation than from -fear that this foolish utterance of his son might be the -forerunner of some future spiritualistic obsession—or -other mental derangement.</p> - -<p>But he spoke gently. "Whose house do you think -it is?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, I don't know at all! It comes from way off—way<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> -off! It's in the air; not a loud sound, like somebody -near. More like a—like a—breath."</p> - -<p>"What does it say?"</p> - -<p>"It says—it says—oh, I dunno. It isn't words."</p> - -<p>"Then how do you know they want me?"</p> - -<p>"It wants us both. It wants me too."</p> - -<p>Dr. Alton smiled. "Do they want your help as -another doctor?"</p> - -<p>But Cyrus did not return the smile. He obviously -regarded the message with a certain solemnity—and -awe. Again he closed his eyes and again turned up -his face.</p> - -<p>"It is still coming."</p> - -<p>"What is still coming, Cyrus? The same message?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir, the same message—that we are wanted -there."</p> - -<p>"Where?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know. But it isn't anywheres near here. -It's a good ways off. And we are wanted very much;—oh, -very much!"</p> - -<p>Dr. Alton turned away. "Well, Cyrus, when you -get your message in more definite form I shall be glad -to consider it."</p> - -<p>As he entered the house, however, he stood in the -doorway a moment, looking back. Cyrus was still -standing on the mounting block, with face upturned. -On the ground sat Zac, still waiting patiently for his -hero to return to earth.</p> - -<p>When Cyrus followed his father into the house he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> -found him warming himself before the open fire. He -approached and stood before him.</p> - -<p>"Father, why isn't there a picture of my mother -somewhere round the house?"</p> - -<p>Dr. Alton raised his eyebrows at the unexpected -question. "Why do you ask, Cyrus?"</p> - -<p>"'Cause somebody was here to-day who wanted to -know."</p> - -<p>"Who?"</p> - -<p>With a knowing shake of the head the diplomat answered, -"Oh, I mustn't tell you. I promised not to."</p> - -<p>"Well, you must keep your promise."</p> - -<p>"But why isn't there one?"</p> - -<p>"It's a long story, Cyrus. Some day I will tell you, -but not just now."</p> - -<p>"But why not now? This is when I want to know. -I may forget about it."</p> - -<p>Dr. Alton was familiar with the gimlet quality of -the youthful mind. "Well—Cyrus—let us wait and see -if you forget it. And if you——" At that moment -he happened to look more carefully at a letter in his -hand, delivered during his absence and which he had -just taken from the table. Cyrus waited for him to -go on. He waited in vain. Dr. Alton stepped hastily -to the window for more light, and read the letter. It -was evidently of unusual interest, as he forgot to finish -his sentence. And when, at last, Cyrus asked him to -continue he did not even hear his son's voice.</p> - -<p>The letter was written in a woman's hand, and in -French.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p> - -<p>At the supper table that evening father and son were -sitting alone, as usual. The son was talkative, but the -father was silent; so silent that Cyrus, at last discouraged -by the complete indifference of a usually sympathetic -audience, became silent himself.</p> - -<p>And the father had abundant material for thought. -He was trying to understand how the message in the -letter had reached the boy. By what mysterious -agency had this yearning of a woman's heart stirred -the brain of the far away Cyrus? Could there be a -harmony between these two spirits so intimate as to -render the written word superfluous? These were -questions he tried in vain to answer.</p> - -<p>When the meal was finished and Joanna began to -clear away the things, Dr. Alton surprised her by asking -if Cyrus had a good suit of clothes.</p> - -<p>"A good suit of clothes! Of course he has!"</p> - -<p>"I mean, a nice new suit, that is becoming to him."</p> - -<p>"He has that pretty dark suit with the wide collar -that he wears Sundays."</p> - -<p>"Yes,—yes—I know—but would that be good -enough to wear in New York."</p> - -<p>"In New York? Is Cyrus going to New York?" -And there was a ring of dismay in Joanna's voice.</p> - -<p>"I think so."</p> - -<p>"When?"</p> - -<p>"To-morrow."</p> - -<p>"What for?"</p> - -<p>Dr. Alton hesitated. "I have some—sort of business -there and—will take him with me."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Will he stay long?"</p> - -<p>"Only a day or two."</p> - -<p>"Heaven be praised! I began to be frightened."</p> - -<p>The doctor laughed. "You needn't worry, Joanna. -We shall come back alive—and very soon."</p> - -<p>The next day Cyrus and his father were in the -wicked city. The important business of the following -morning was taking the boy to a fashionable establishment -and fitting him out in stylish raiment. And -when the deed was done Dr. Alton realized that Cyrus, -in these new, well fitting clothes, with his intelligent -face and erect little figure, was not a boy to be ashamed -of.</p> - -<p>"To-night," said Dr. Alton, "we go to the opera."</p> - -<p>"Opera." And Cyrus repeated the new word. -"Opera. What is that, father?"</p> - -<p>"It's a theater, where they sing."</p> - -<p>"Isn't the circus better?"</p> - -<p>"Well, yes; sometimes it is better. But you come -to the opera with me to-night and to-morrow I will -take you to the Hippodrome. That's fair, isn't it?"</p> - -<p>Cyrus agreed that it was.</p> - -<p>To a boy of eight, who has never been to any theater, -Grand Opera is a strong beginning. When he and -his father took their seats—seats not too far from the -stage—Cyrus, in wonder, looked about him and above -him, at the vast auditorium, the gorgeous architecture, -the radiant women and their flashing jewels. And so -many of them! This was a new world of which he -had never heard. Wide open were his eyes; also his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> -mouth—and all his senses. He absorbed everything. -The overture filled him to the brim with a celestial joy. -Such music he had not imagined. Then, to his surprise, -all the lights were lowered and the vast chamber -was in gloom. And when, the next moment, the great -curtain began slowly to ascend, disclosing the scene -behind, then, indeed, came the culmination of his joy -and amazement.</p> - -<p>What followed was bewildering—the music and the -changing lights; the peasants, the soldiers and the -kings and queens. And everybody singing! Then -the ballet, with the fairies! The boy was enchanted.</p> - -<p>But, among the many figures, there was one that -stood out the clearest. It was a woman. Her face, -her voice, her singing and her story moved him beyond -any of the others. The words that were sung were -strange words and they told him nothing, but he -guessed the story. This lovely woman with a lovely -voice had a diadem in her hair and was in trouble—troubled -by a hateful man in splendid clothes, with lavender -legs. But, however deep her trouble, she sang -so well and in such a heavenly voice that the whole -audience applauded her, again and again. It was -clear, even to a child, that she was the queen of the -evening, the star of stars. And once, between two -acts, when she came out upon the stage, between the -good lover and the wicked nobleman, bowing to the -audience in acknowledgment of flowers, Cyrus saw, -and saw so clearly there was no mistake, that she -looked directly at him, Cyrus, and at his father! And<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> -as she saw them, she bowed and smiled more radiantly -than ever! And so clear it was that he looked up and -whispered:</p> - -<p>"Why, father, she was bowing to us!"</p> - -<p>He saw his father was smiling back at her as he -murmured, "Yes—she is."</p> - -<p>That, in itself, was exhilarating.</p> - -<p>But no human boy can withstand for an infinity of -time an infinity of new emotions—however delectable. -At the end of the second hour Cyrus' head was resting -against his father's arm, and his eyes were -closed. But in his sleep he heard the music. In -his dreams came the voice of the Lovely Lady. His -eyes, only, were closed. In his ears, and to his weary -but enchanted brain came all except the actual vision. -When his father woke him from this gentle sleep the -great curtain was slowly descending at the end of the -final act. Music filled the air,—volumes and volumes -of it. Countless people were on the stage; kings and -queens, lords and ladies, peasants and soldiers, all singing -their loudest. So many noisy people Cyrus had -never heard. And in the center among the kings and -queens was the Lovely Lady, also singing.</p> - -<p>A few moments later, after the great curtain had -descended, a half dozen of the principal singers came -filing out in front of it, holding hands, and bowing -and smiling to the audience. The Lovely Lady received -heaps of flowers. And her eyes, as she bowed -and smiled, rested for a moment on Cyrus himself.</p> - -<p>The next day, as to weather, was disappointing.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> -The cold, damp air, the leaden sky and the flurries of -snow were a surprise to Cyrus, as it was just plain, -country weather, and bad at that. It seemed out of -place in a fine, big city. And he was again surprised, -in the afternoon, when his father took him into Central -Park. He considered it a waste of time, when so -much of the city had not been seen. They walked -along the borders of a lake, through some woods, then -followed a path up a little hill. And, two or three -times, when they came to other paths, his father took -from his pocket the French letter he had received at -home, and seemed to study it as if it told him where -to go. On one of these halts the boy protested.</p> - -<p>"Why do we come here, father? We can see trees -at home."</p> - -<p>"Yes, you are right, Cyrus. But we go only a little -further." And when they came to a rustic bench in a -secluded spot, quite hidden among trees and shrubs, -Dr. Alton seated himself.</p> - -<p>"Are you tired?" Cyrus asked. Dr. Alton looked -at his watch. "No, I am not tired."</p> - -<p>"Then let's go back to the city, and be seeing things."</p> - -<p>His father laid a hand on his shoulder and patted it.</p> - -<p>"There is no hurry. We can wait a minute. It is -rather pleasant here, don't you think?" Then he -looked along the path in both directions as if expecting -something. Cyrus was too polite to say what he -really thought, so he merely scowled and swung his -legs, hitting the toe of one foot against the heel of -the other. Meanwhile his father kept looking along<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> -the path by which they had come as if expecting something.</p> - -<p>And something came.</p> - -<p>It was a lady, and she was hurrying toward them. -Instead of going by she stopped and greeted Dr. Alton. -And the greeting was more than friendly. There were -kisses, and they stood for a moment in each other's -arms. Tears were on her cheeks when she stooped -down and put both hands on Cyrus' shoulders and -looked earnestly into his face. In her own face there -was a look of excitement, and of joy. More tears -came to her eyes. And her eyes were full of expression, -with a peculiar droop, that gave an air of calmness -and repose. She kissed the boy,—kissed him several -times—then held him at arm's length, said something -in a foreign language—then kissed him again. -Although she was evidently an important person, and -beautiful and kind and very gentle and affectionate—and -he liked her furs as he stroked them—nevertheless -Cyrus accepted her attentions with surprise, and with -a mild resentment. No woman had ever treated him -in this manner, and these caresses embarrassed him. -Moreover, her face and voice awakened memories—memories -as of fairy tales with music—of things unreal, -yet positive, and fresh in his mind. His frown -was from an effort to remember what her face and -voice recalled. At last, of a sudden, the clouds vanished. -Into his puzzled brain poured a flood of light. -The frown gave way to a smile of triumph as he exclaimed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> -holding her at arm's length with both hands -against her chest:</p> - -<p>"Oh, I know now! You are the lady of last night!"</p> - -<p>She looked up at Dr. Alton for a translation but -guessed the meaning. And when it came she nodded, -laughed and confessed—but in a language Cyrus did -not understand, although familiar to his ears. Seating -herself on the rustic bench, she held Cyrus in her lap, -and with Dr. Alton as interpreter they conversed together. -She asked many questions: if he was happy, -in good health, what he thought and how he spent his -time, and lots of other things. And Cyrus was delighted -to learn more about her strange adventures of -last night. And to know that the wicked man with -lavender legs could do her no harm.</p> - -<p>She was certainly a wonderful lady, as charming -now as in the story of last night. And Cyrus asked -many questions about that story, all of which she answered. -Of course, it was slow and troublesome not -understanding her language—nor she his, except a -few words—but Dr. Alton was a willing translator. -It all ended, however, in an unexpected way. After -one of her embraces, more affectionate even than the -others, Cyrus startled his two companions by asking in -the joyful voice that comes with a grand discovery:—</p> - -<p>"Are you my mother?"</p> - -<p>With a frightened look she drew back. The last -word she understood. Instead of answering she -glanced up at his father, as if for assistance. Into Dr.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> -Alton's face, also, had come a look of alarm; then a -frown. But he answered pleasantly:</p> - -<p>"No—Cyrus. No. Why should you ask such a -question?"</p> - -<p>"Because she acts just as Elmer Snow's mother -acted when he came back from the hospital."</p> - -<p>When this was translated she leaned back, bowed -her head, and covered her face with her hands. When -she raised her head there were fresh tears on her -cheeks.</p> - -<p>Cyrus apologized. "I am very sorry. I didn't -mean anything—in particular. I only—just thought -I'd ask."</p> - -<p>She patted his shoulder to assure him no harm was -done.</p> - -<p>"This lady, Cyrus, is an old friend of mine," said his -father. "And is very glad to see you and is sorry you -have no mother. That's all."</p> - -<p>Now Cyrus would sooner doubt a voice from heaven -than his father's word; and any one could easily see -that the lady was much disturbed—so much disturbed -that it shortened the interview. The parting with his -father seemed painful and took a long time. Both -had much to say. They seemed to cling to each other, -and he kissed her several times. At last, after a tearful -farewell to Cyrus, with a long embrace in which -her wet cheeks were pressed long against his face, she -hurried away.</p> - -<p>There was sorrow in his drowsy eyes as he watched -the departing figure. No woman had ever treated him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> -in such a way, and he had begun to like it. Before -she disappeared around a curve in the path, even before -the sound of her pleasant voice had died away in -his ears—something happened!</p> - -<p>A fat, gray squirrel, followed by another fat, gray -squirrel jumped upon the bench just where the lady -had been sitting! And there they sat almost within -reach!</p> - -<p>He was young. Within a month the unexplained -lady, her face, her voice and her caresses had begun -to fade from his unfledged memory. But the two gray -squirrels, almost within reach, sitting up with their -funny little hands crossed upon their portly stomachs, -he remembered clearly.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_118.png" alt="Chapter VI image" /> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak">VI - -<span class="ch">HE ALMOST GETS RELIGION</span></h2> - -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="uppercase">Cyrus</span> was in bed.</p> - -<p>The history of the case is instructive and -should be a warning to other champions.</p> - -<p>On a certain afternoon in the fourteenth year of this -hero's life the home team had met and defeated the -baseball club from a neighboring village. The score -was twenty to thirteen. Such a victory deserved celebration. -So Cyrus, with half a dozen fellow champions, -went to Mrs. Turner's little ice cream parlor and -regaled themselves. Each boy had three ice creams, -and as the money still held out they decided on a -fourth. But Mrs. Turner, having a friendly interest -in her patrons, declined to be further identified with -this particular debauch.</p> - -<p>To victors in the national game this was humiliating. -Defeat in an ice cream parlor after triumph on the -diamond, was not to be accepted. So they adjourned -to the store where a fresh lot of cocoanut cakes had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> -just come in. These cakes were not dry and fly blown -like their predecessors. They were fresh, full and -well rounded, soft and juicy and nicely browned on -top. Wilbur Cobb said he could eat a dozen. But -Cyrus, familiar with the deceptive richness of cocoanut -cakes, said no boy could eat a dozen, but that he, Cyrus, -could eat more than Wilbur. This aroused the sporting -instinct of the party and it was arranged, on the -spot, that these two champions should compete. The -boy who ate the most should pay nothing toward the -cost of the cakes. The cakes were two cents a piece.</p> - -<p>Cyrus won. He ate nine and claimed, with justice, -that were it not for the space already occupied by the -ice cream and sponge cake he could have eaten still -more.</p> - -<p>Half an hour later these same boys, in passing -through Deacon Bisbee's orchard, found the taste of -green apples cool and refreshing, for the moment, after -the somewhat milky fullness caused by the ice cream -and cocoanut cakes. And they partook with reckless -freedom. What exclamations of surprise or warning -may have passed between those hereditary foes, the ice -cream and green apples, when the apples entered those -overworked stomachs is not recorded. But the apples -conquered as easily as the Barbarians when they entered -Rome. For green apples, on occasion, resemble -Truth: they are mighty and will prevail. And Cyrus, -after starting homeward, began to feel, in that region -between his chest and legs, as if he had swallowed a -football. The distention was painful. Moreover, as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> -he hurried on, the football seemed growing bigger and -harder. Also, it showed signs of life. From his interior -came rumblings; the rumblings that precede a -storm. All through this central zone, this sphere of -distention, pains were starting up, sharp, swift, far -reaching. It appeared to him that through his equator -lightning played. At first these playful spasms darted -here and there in a frolicsome way—like airy nothings. -Though somewhat threatening and reverberant they -did not alarm him. They seemed well intentioned -pains, like harmless gleams of lightning on a summer -night. But these spasms became less friendly. They -grew sharper and more threatening. Soon, like flashes -in a real storm, they were shooting here and there as if -rending him asunder; no longer playful, but the kind -of lightning that rips the bark from trees, tears bricks -from chimneys, and spires from churches. When -near his own home this storm within grew fiercer yet, -and wilder in its fury. So sharp the agony that he -clasped the afflicted territory with both his hands, and -leaned for support against a fence.</p> - -<p>Never before, in his brief career had he realized -that the human body could be rent and plowed and -torn to shreds without killing the owner.</p> - -<p>At that moment Mrs. Eagan came along. Mrs. -Eagan had a large face, a large chest, large hips and -a large heart. And she was carrying a large basket—of -things for the wash. Cyrus withdrew his hands -from that region where the tempest raged, straightened -up, lifted his hat and bowed. And it was done<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> -as respectfully as if Mrs. Eagan were the leading lady -of the land. Mrs. Eagan, with a smile of pleasure, -returned the salutation, not gracefully perhaps, for -she was hampered by the heavy basket. She knew -Cyrus, and she knew that in his courtesy to her sex -he made no distinctions. She knew that if the Queen -of Sheba were passing at the same moment, the Queen -of Sheba would have received an obeisance not a bit -more deferential than the obeisance to Mrs. Eagan. -But as she looked more carefully at the boy's face, her -friendly eyes saw clearly there was trouble.</p> - -<p>"Why, Cyrus! Are ye sick? Ye are as white as -a sheet."</p> - -<p>"Yes'm." He spoke in a fade-a-way voice, and he -smiled from sheer force of will. "I feel very—very—I -don't know." And one of his hands moved instinctively -to the sphere of revolt. His head drooped, -partly from pain; partly from shame that these awful -spasms had weakened his legs and might effect his -courage.</p> - -<p>"'Tis there ye are sufferin'? 'Tis the belly ache?"</p> - -<p>Cyrus nodded. "Yes—Mrs. Eagan—and I never—had—such -a——" The lips quivered, his head sank -lower and he leaned against the fence for support. -Mrs. Eagan laid down her basket. Then closer to the -smaller white face came the larger red one.</p> - -<p>"D'ye feel so bad as that, little man?"</p> - -<p>Cyrus nodded, with lips tight pressed to conceal a -quivering he could not control. He looked into the -light blue eyes, now near his own, and tried to smile.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p> - -<p>Mrs. Eagan said no more. Cyrus felt an arm behind -his legs, another across his back, and he was lifted -from the earth. She lifted him in her arms—as Hercules -might have lifted a spring lamb. With his head -against her shoulder she carried him easily up the long -driveway to his own home.</p> - -<p>There were sleepless hours that night, and Cyrus -did some unusual thinking on important subjects. -For, as it happened, he had recently read portions -of the Old Testament, quite by accident, and was -much impressed, temporarily, by certain statements of -the Hebrew fathers. He inferred from that book that -the Ruler of the Universe was watchful and vindictive, -and dependent upon constant praise; that for any -dodging of this praise and worship hell fire and eternal -damnation were ordinary penalties; that the sins -of the fathers were visited upon the children, forever -and ever—which seemed unfair. The impression of -all this upon his youthful mind was that any person -who really believed these things must be either impossibly -good or scared to death. While in good health -those awful utterances did not worry him. Now, however, -in the silent hours of the night, weakened by the -devastation in his interior, he became less callous to -such warnings. Those Hebrew fathers, backed by the -vindictive Almighty, might get him before daylight -and consign him, forever, to the fires of hell.</p> - -<p>But at last he slept. And when he awoke the sun -was shining in his chamber—and he was still alive! -However, when Joanna came up with his toast and tea,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> -and sat at his bedside, he was still haunted by the awful -prophecies of the Hebrew fathers and by the suspicion -that the Avenging Deity might still have an eye on him.</p> - -<p>Joanna was a well-built woman of forty, with good -features and an honest face. For nearly twenty years -she had lived in the Alton family as housekeeper, -nurse, companion, cook, friend and servant: and, incidentally, -as mother to Cyrus. While Joanna's education -had been scanty, her common sense was abundant. -Her attendance at church was regular, and Cyrus felt, -naturally, that her views on Paradise and Purgatory -could be relied on. So he asked if religious people -were more likely to get to heaven than other folks.</p> - -<p>"Of course," said Joanna.</p> - -<p>"Which kind are the surest?"</p> - -<p>"The Good People."</p> - -<p>"I mean, which kind of religion is the—is the safest?"</p> - -<p>"Each one thinks his own is."</p> - -<p>"Which do you think, Joanna?"</p> - -<p>"Congregationalist."</p> - -<p>"Is that yours?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"Do they have a better chance than Baptists or -Methodists or Unitarians?"</p> - -<p>"I guess they do."</p> - -<p>"But the Unitarians have the biggest church."</p> - -<p>"Yes—in this village."</p> - -<p>"What do they believe,—the Unitarians?"</p> - -<p>Joanna closed her eyes. "Oh, I can't tell you exactly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> -They believe something about God being the -only thing to worship—the most important of all."</p> - -<p>"Well,—isn't He?"</p> - -<p>"Why—er—yes."</p> - -<p>"What's bigger?"</p> - -<p>Joanna frowned. "Bigger than what?"</p> - -<p>"Bigger than God?"</p> - -<p>"Why, nothing, I suppose."</p> - -<p>"Then it seems to me He is the One to be friends -with." And Cyrus leaned back on the pillow, and -turned his face toward the light. Joanna stroked his -head.</p> - -<p>"But don't you worry, little boy. You are not -goin' to die just because you are sick."</p> - -<p>"Are you sure?"</p> - -<p>"Of course I am sure, so is your father sure. To-morrow -you will be all well again."</p> - -<p>"Yes, but I shall die some day and I might as well -be ready. You think the Congregashalists have the -best chance of getting to heaven."</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"Then I'll be one. What do I have to do?"</p> - -<p>"Nothing, but just go to church."</p> - -<p>"Is God a Congregashalist?"</p> - -<p>Joanna hesitated. "Well—nobody really knows."</p> - -<p>"Not even a minister?"</p> - -<p>"Perhaps he would. But you have asked enough -questions. Now try and go to sleep."</p> - -<p>Cyrus obeyed, and slept. But that evening when his -father came up and was sitting by the bed he made<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> -further efforts to get light on the darkest of all subjects. -Dr. Alton, however, saw signs of a feverish -excitement in the usually calm eyes of the invalid, and -he decided upon a soothing course of religious instruction. -He knew that this sudden thirst for knowledge -in a fresh field could not be allayed by any off-hand -advice to forget and slumber. So with a smiling face -he answered questions as if the matter in hand was -of no immediate importance.</p> - -<p>"Father, was Jesus so very good?" Cyrus began.</p> - -<p>"Yes, indeed! The best of men!"</p> - -<p>"He wasn't better than you, I bet."</p> - -<p>"Indeed he was, Cyrus; very, very much better."</p> - -<p>"Ho!" said the boy; "I don't believe it."</p> - -<p>Dr. Alton explained, in few words, certain important -differences between Our Savior and other men. -Cyrus listened, and understood; then inquired:</p> - -<p>"Was He a Congregashalist?"</p> - -<p>Dr. Alton smiled, and shook his head. "Never, -Cyrus! Never! He couldn't have been if he tried. -And He was not the man to try. There was no cruelty -in him. He was all forgiveness."</p> - -<p>"Then he must have been a Unitarian, a Piscopalian, -or Baptist or Methodist—or something like that."</p> - -<p>Dr. Alton closed his eyes and stroked his chin.</p> - -<p>"No—I should say not. He might possibly have -been a Universalist, or a Unitarian. But why are -you so interested in religion all of a sudden? Afraid -you are going to die?"</p> - -<p>"No, not now. But all lost night I was afraid."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span></p> - -<p>His father took one of the small hands in both his -own and smiled into the invalid's adoring face. -"There's no hurry about choosing your creed, little -man. Benevolent Creators are not punishing children -for theological errors. But we can talk it all over -later, when you are well."</p> - -<p>Cyrus also smiled—"But tell me, father, just for -fun, what religion is the best?"</p> - -<p>"Well, Cyrus, that's hard to say. There are many -to choose from."</p> - -<p>"Why, I thought the Christian religion was the only -real one."</p> - -<p>"Well, that's what the Christians think—naturally."</p> - -<p>Cyrus frowned. "But what's the use of so many?"</p> - -<p>"No use whatever. One good one would be enough -for everybody—and save heaps of trouble."</p> - -<p>"But the Christian religion is the best, isn't it—to -go to heaven with?"</p> - -<p>"That's hard to say. Nobody really knows. It's -a good Sunday religion, but it doesn't seem to work so -well week days."</p> - -<p>"I guess it's safer than any of the others, isn't it?"</p> - -<p>"Possibly. But you needn't decide in a hurry, Cyrus. -Take your time and look around a little."</p> - -<p>"Do people always look around before choosing -their religion?"</p> - -<p>Dr. Alton laughed. "No, they do not. In fact, it -is considered a sign of moral depravity to think too -much for yourself in those matters. To be at peace -with mankind you must follow your neighbors. It is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> -all merely a matter of geography. When you know -the name of the country you know their religious beliefs. -There is not much thinking done."</p> - -<p>"That's funny," said Cyrus. "But a Christian is -lots better than any of the others—isn't he?"</p> - -<p>Again Dr. Alton smiled. "Well, he himself thinks -he is. But all virtue is not centered in the Christian. -When you get up to-morrow and wish to get well and -strong you will begin to eat again, won't you?"</p> - -<p>"Gracious! I guess I will! I could eat a house."</p> - -<p>"Yes, you will be hungry enough. And you will -feel like eating quite a variety of things, I suppose."</p> - -<p>"Oh, won't I!" And as Cyrus spoke the pallor of -the Saint was submerged in a glow of fleshly desire.</p> - -<p>"Good! And you shall have it! Now we will play, -for a minute, that Christianity is pie."</p> - -<p>"Is what?"</p> - -<p>"Is pie. Just pie. But there are various creeds of -pie among the Christians; there's apple, pumpkin, -mince, squash, cocoanut, and all the others."</p> - -<p>"Me for cocoanut!" exclaimed the invalid. "Cocoanut -pie beats 'em all!"</p> - -<p>"That's a matter of taste. But you prefer cocoanut -pie to all the others?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes!"</p> - -<p>"Very well. Now there's apple for Methodist, -mince for Episcopalian, cocoanut for Unitarian, -pumpkin for Congregationalist, and so on, through -the list."</p> - -<p>Cyrus laughed. "And which are you?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I haven't decided yet. But you must stick to your -colors and have more faith in cocoanut than in all -the others."</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes! That's easy!"</p> - -<p>"And so you eat nothing but cocoanut pie."</p> - -<p>"Nothing else at all?"</p> - -<p>"Nothing else. So long as you are a Christian you -must stick to your creed. You must feel considerably -wiser and better than outsiders who are eating grapes, -and roast turkey and custards and watermelons, and -pudding and ice cream, and all who eat anything except -your one kind of pie."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I couldn't do that!"</p> - -<p>"But you must, if you want to be a true defender of -your cocoanut creed. For all the others are outsiders. -Those pudding, turkey, grapes, custard and ice cream -people don't believe in your pie."</p> - -<p>Cyrus slowly shook his head and pushed out his lips. -"I couldn't despise people for eating things they liked."</p> - -<p>"Neither could I, Cyrus. So, for the present, anyway, -we will eat whatever we want to. And we are -just as sure of going to Heaven as if we stuck to one -kind of pie."</p> - -<p>"Yes, we will," declared the invalid, and in his face -and voice had come the enthusiasm of fresh hopes -and a new life. "If our minister," he said, "would -talk like that in the pulpit, about roast turkey and ice -cream and things to eat, it would be more—more interesting. -Wouldn't it?"</p> - -<p>Dr. Alton bent over Cyrus and kissed him good<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> -night. "Yes, but he wouldn't dare—unless his congregation -consisted of empty boys."</p> - -<p>The father's diagnosis was correct: his treatment a -success. During that short half hour the patient had -been converted from a terrified sinner to a hopeful -gourmand. The anxious look had left his eyes. The -lips were smiling.</p> - -<p>And that night, instead of fitful wakings interspersed -with dreams of hell and Hebrew prophets, of -death, damnation and eternal punishment, he slept a -solid, tranquil sleep. And such dreams as came were -happy dreams. He dreamed of puddings of the richest -kind, of turkeys all stuffed and ready; of various -pies, of custard, of pastry, and of ice cream, all of -which he ate, and ate—and ate. And lying flat upon -his stomach on a sponge-cake raft he floated in a sea -of pineapple sherbet. He would bite off edges of the -raft, then, with his whole face in the boundless ocean, -he would suck up long gulps of this divine material. -And his permanent residence was in a cocoanut palace -against a mountain of vanilla ice cream.</p> - -<p>When morning came, and he awoke and sat up in -bed, he was himself again. In the sunshine of his -room the bottomless pit had lost its menace. His -spirit, refreshed by slumber and now guided by his -nose, ignored the fires of Purgatory and was hovering -over the more friendly heat of Joanna's kitchen stove.</p> - -<p>A few days later, when he was curled up at one end -of the sofa with a book, he asked: "What is the transmigration -of souls?"</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a id="Fig_2"></a> - <img src="images/i_130.jpg" alt="" /> - <p class="caption">"A COCOANUT PALACE AGAINST A MOUNTAIN OF VANILLA ICE CREAM"<span class="no-break">—<i>Page 114</i></span></p> -</div> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span></p> - -<p>Dr. Alton explained.</p> - -<p>Then Cyrus, after a good look into the face of the -dog beside him: "Whose soul do you suppose is in -Zac?"</p> - -<p>"That's a hard one, Cyrus. I could only guess -at it."</p> - -<p>"But it means for dogs, too, doesn't it?"</p> - -<p>"It certainly ought. I shouldn't accept it unless it -did."</p> - -<p>"Then I say that whatever soul came into Zac was -the soul of a mighty good man."</p> - -<p>"Yes—no doubt about that."</p> - -<p>"Just think! Zac may be George Washington!"</p> - -<p>"Well—you can't be too sure. You have all the -good people in history to choose from, you know."</p> - -<p>"Yes, of course. I guess, after all, he isn't George -Washington. He is quicker and jumps about more." -Then after another look into the dog's adoring face: -"Besides, I don't believe any great man in history -would be so awful fond of me as Zac is."</p> - -<p>"Oh, he might be. Washington would have liked -you, I think; although he might not have followed you -about so closely."</p> - -<p>Other famous men were mentioned: the Emperor -Augustus, Magellan, Shakespeare, Daniel Boone and -Fenimore Cooper—also Joan of Arc. But it was -agreed by both father and son that the best known -characteristics of those persons were not sufficiently -obvious in Zac to make a clear case.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_133.png" alt="Chapter VII image" /> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak">VII - -<span class="ch">TOWARD THE LIGHT</span></h2> - -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="uppercase">The</span> snow lay deep—and still it fell.</p> - -<p>On a low stone wall by the roadside Ruth Heywood -sat in solemn meditation. With melancholy -eyes she watched the door of the little red school -house a hundred yards away. On the porch of that -school house shivered Zac, also waiting. He, too, -kept his eyes on the door, but he had no intention of -rebuking the prisoner—should he ever appear. Why -try to improve an already perfect thing?</p> - -<p>Above Ruth's head the North Wind, moaning -through the leafless branches of the maples, played -dirge-like airs. Now, late in the afternoon, the darkening -sky seemed bearing down upon the snow-covered -earth. And Ruth's thoughts were all in harmony -with the world about her. There was reason for a -joyless face. More experienced women than Ruth -had found sorrow and defeat in acting as guardian -angel to erring males.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span></p> - -<p>Other children had gone home. Cyrus was being -held in punishment. And the punishment was just. -The Guardian Angel disliked this business, but Cyrus -had no mother, aunt or sister, and his father, being -only a man, did not realize the situation. Therefore, -it seemed clear to Ruth that she was the chosen instrument -by which Cyrus was to be rescued from a career -of shame and failure.</p> - -<p>At last the boy appeared. Zac bounced with joy, -stirring the snowy air with cries of welcome. And -Cyrus, glad as any other prisoner to be again at liberty, -came running after.</p> - -<p>Ruth walked out into the road and stood before him. -As he stopped there was a smile on his face, the old -familiar smile of the guilty, who hope to soften the -face of Justice. But Justice was not beguiled. On -the face of the Guardian Angel came no returning -smile. Instead, with accusing eyes, she slowly shook -her head.</p> - -<p>"Cyrus, you ought to be ashamed."</p> - -<p>"Why?"</p> - -<p>"You know very well why. You are bad, very bad, -and teacher was right to keep you after school and -punish you."</p> - -<p>Cyrus gave up smiling. He reached forth and -toyed with one of the horn buttons on the Guardian -Angel's coat. "I don't think I am bad just because -I hate that geography."</p> - -<p>"It's your duty to learn it whether you hate it or -not. You will grow up an ignorant, good-for-nothing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> -man unless you study your lessons. Everybody knows -that. You ought to go straight home and tell your -father you have been kept after school. Just tell him -all about it. Will you?"</p> - -<p>There was a puckering of the boy's mouth, but no -answer.</p> - -<p>"If you were stupid, and couldn't learn if you tried, -it would be different, but you are just perverse and—and -bad. If you don't do better I shall just go and -tell your father myself."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Ruthy! You wouldn't do that!" And he let -go the button and took a backward step, as one who -shrinks from a faithless friend.</p> - -<p>"But it's for your own good, Drowsy. And, besides, -teacher will tell him if I don't."</p> - -<p>"I s'pose she would."</p> - -<p>"You don't want to grow up and know less than -anybody else—even less than school children?"</p> - -<p>Cyrus smiled. "That <i>would</i> be funny!"</p> - -<p>"No, it would <i>not</i> be funny. Do you think it would -be funny to dig ditches all your life and drive oxen -like old Sim Barker?"</p> - -<p>"But what makes him so bad is because he's foolish -and dirty and has tobacco juice in the corners of his -mouth. Geography wouldn't help <i>him</i>—nor anybody -else. Geography!" And Cyrus uttered the word -with a fathomless contempt. "That geography just -makes me sick—just sick, sick, sick—and mad! What -stuff it tells you! Which is the largest African Lake? -Where are the Barbary States? What about the surface<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> -of Abyssinia? What are the products of the -Cape of Good Hope? Who in thunder cares for the -climate of Uruguay or the exports of Ecuador? -Who'd ever be such a fool as to want to remember the -population of Thibet? And who cares anyway? Any -jackass can know those things whenever he wants to -by looking at a map or that fool geography."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Cyrus, you mustn't talk like that!"</p> - -<p>But the revolutionist went on. "Why don't they -tell us things worth remembering? Look at my lesson -to-day! The Island of Madagascar! Who in -thunder wants to know about the products of Madagascar? -Hoh! It makes me sick!"</p> - -<p>"But, Drowsy, Madagascar is an important island -and——"</p> - -<p>"Important grandmother! Any fool can read about -it. Why don't they tell me things I want to know?"</p> - -<p>"What thing <i>do</i> you want to know?"</p> - -<p>"I want to know things that other people don't -know. I want to know how the earth looks when you -are standing on the moon. I want to know what's -lying in the mud at the bottom of the Tiber—all the -bronze and gold and marble things; and what sort of -people live on the other planets, and why cats and dogs -can see in the dark. And if God is good and not mean—why -did he make Bobby Carter a hunchback?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, Cyrus! It's wicked to talk like that!"</p> - -<p>"No, it isn't. I'm only asking about it. I'm only -asking why teacher doesn't tell us things worth knowing. -I want to know what would happen if you dug<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> -a well through the center of the earth. Would a stone -keep on dropping till it came out the other side?"</p> - -<p>"That is gravity," said Ruth in her wisest manner, -glad of a chance to hold her position as mentor.</p> - -<p>"Yes, but the name doesn't help any. If I got into -a big cannon ball and was shot up into the air how -many hundreds of miles would I go before I would fall -back? And if you should go up in a balloon a mile -high I want to know if you would stay still and see -the earth going round and round beneath you or would -you have to go with it—and Massachusetts always just -underneath."</p> - -<p>"There's no use in knowing that."</p> - -<p>"Yes, there is. When I'm grown up I may do something -like it."</p> - -<p>Ruth laughed. "You silly boy! Nobody ever did -such a thing."</p> - -<p>"But <i>I</i> may. Lots of things have been done that -were never done before. And mighty surprisin' -things, too!"</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a id="Fig_3"></a> - <img src="images/i_138.jpg" alt="" /> - <p class="caption">"I WANT TO KNOW HOW THE EARTH LOOKS WHEN YOU ARE STANDING -ON THE MOON"<span class="no-break">—<i>Page 119</i></span></p> -</div> - -<p>There was no denying this. So Ruth, for want of -words, merely gazed upon him in sorrow and disapproval, -as any Conservative might gaze upon any Radical. -Before she could frame a speech to fit the look -the orator again rushed on. He spoke rapidly and -with feeling. The drowsy eyes became wider open. -His hands with the gray mittens moved freely in the -snowy air. To Ruth it was a sudden transformation -of a prospective ignoramus into an inspired orator. -In a higher, thinner voice he demanded: "What makes - - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> - -one kind of electricity do what another kind can't? -And if men are so smart, why didn't they use electricity -thousands of years ago instead of just now? The -air has always been full of it."</p> - -<p>This was an interesting question. But the Guardian -Angel had no answer ready.</p> - -<p>"And what makes light travel so fast? Why, just -think of it, a hundred and fifty thousand miles in one -second! And heat. There's lots to learn about heat. -Why do folks burn wood and coal in winter instead -of storing up heat in summer when there's too much -of it. They keep ice all summer. And why not keep -heat all winter? And just look at sunshine! Why -not keep some overnight to read by? I could do it -if I was a man."</p> - -<p>The orator paused to get his breath.</p> - -<p>"But, Cyrus, perhaps you can learn all those things -later."</p> - -<p>"But I want to know 'em now. Not the things I've -just been reciting, the climate of Texas, the crops of -New South Wales and the population of Wurtemburg. -Hoh! I could be a teacher myself and tell things everybody -knows already. Teachers are no smarter than -anybody else. I asked her why some families, like -the Herricks, have all boys and other families all girls."</p> - -<p>"What did she say?"</p> - -<p>"She just couldn't tell me. And she didn't like it -when I asked her why God, who knows everything, -should do foolish things."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Cyrus!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Well, he makes warm days in April to start things -going, then sends a sudden frost and nips the blossoms -and kills the crops. Any fool farmer knows better -than that."</p> - -<p>Ruth frowned. "You should not say such things." -But the orator ignored the rebuke. "Instead of telling -me about the wrecks and ruins and the treasures -and the forests at the bottom of the ocean, teacher tells -me how many bales of cotton and barrels of molasses -come from Alabama. Why, Ruthy, at the Island of -St. Helena the ocean is nearly six miles deep!"</p> - -<p>"But, Cyrus, nobody really knows just what lies at -the bottom of the ocean."</p> - -<p>"Hoh! That's just it. Teacher stuffs us with -things everybody knows. All the easy things. Any -cow or any hen can know 'em. I want the other -things. If she's a teacher she ought to know about -the bottom of the sea. She ought to tell us about Atlantis. -There's be some fun in that."</p> - -<p>"Atlantis?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. That was the big island out in the Atlantic -Ocean that suddenly disappeared. It sank to the bottom -of the sea. Don't you remember?"</p> - -<p>Ruth was honest and slowly shook her head. Yet -she knew that her position as mentor, spiritual guide -and good example became weaker should the ignoramus -she was rebuking display more learning than -herself.</p> - -<p>But Cyrus was too much absorbed in the bigness of -his subject to think of himself or other trifles. "Why, - - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> - -Ruthy, it was a whole kingdom, this island—a continent. -It was covered with beautiful temples, whole -cities and lots of people. And all of a sudden—nobody -knows why—it disappeared beneath the waves! -And now, to-day, down at the bottom of the ocean -those cities and those marble temples are still standing!"</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a id="Fig_4"></a> - <img src="images/i_142.jpg" alt="" /> - <p class="caption">"AND NOW, TODAY, DOWN AT THE BOTTOM OF THE OCEAN, THOSE CITIES -AND THOSE MARBLE TEMPLES ARE STILL STANDING"<span class="no-break">—<i>Page 123</i></span></p> -</div> - -<p>"Where was this island?"</p> - -<p>"Off to the west of Spain, and Africa. People -think the Azores and the Canary Islands are the tops -of mountains of that sunken country."</p> - -<p>Ruth said nothing, but the enchanting eyes spoke -plainly of surprise and wonder. "When did that happen?"</p> - -<p>"Way back in ancient times; before Greece began."</p> - -<p>The enthusiasm of Cyrus produced its effect on -Ruth, and the earnest eyes of Ruth had their usual effect -on Cyrus. He laid one of his hands, in its gray -worsted mitten, against the Guardian Angel's chest. -"And, Ruthy, just think of those white marble temples! -Just think of the streets and houses! Think -of all the statues and the helmets, shields and swords -and spears all lying around down there at the bottom -of the ocean! Think of all the ornaments in gold and -silver! And think, that in those great white cities with -all their treasure, coral and sea plants grow instead of -trees! And the only living things are fishes swimming -in and out among the statues and the monuments, the -palaces, the forums and the amphitheaters."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span></p> - -<p>The orator drew a long breath, then in a lower tone: -"I'd give anything to spend a day in that place."</p> - -<p>Little batches of snow had gathered on the heads and -shoulders of the two children. For a moment they -stood in silence, Ruth gazing thoughtfully at Cyrus, -Cyrus gazing in anger and contempt toward the school -house.</p> - -<p>At this point there came a sudden change in the -Guardian Angel's manner. She realized the necessity -for different tactics. Familiar with Cyrus's astonishing -cleverness in argument she suspected that he was -justifying his own guilt by this dazzling display of -wisdom. Then came a swift transformation in the -irresistible eyes, from sympathy to rebuke.</p> - -<p>"Stop," she said.</p> - -<p>Cyrus stopped—midway in a sentence.</p> - -<p>"Those reasons you can tell to teacher. They are -no excuse for being a lazy boy; I shall tell your father -unless you do better."</p> - -<p>Then she turned and walked away, striking her cold -hands together for warmth. Cyrus followed, treading -the narrow path in the snow made by horse's feet.</p> - -<p>But shivering Zac, who had good excuse for shivering -after his long wait on the windy porch, ran joyfully -ahead. He had borne with patience this long -delay. Cyrus picked up a handful of snow and -molded it into a ball. As they were passing the store -he caught Ruth by a sleeve and pointed to a boy more -than a hundred feet away. The boy was stooping over -a sled.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span></p> - -<p>"What'll you bet I can't hit Luther from here?"</p> - -<p>Now Cyrus was a surprisingly good shot. He -seemed able to hit whatever he fired at, and from unbelievable -distances. His surprising accuracy in this -direction had made him pitcher on the village nine. -But Ruth, remembering her rôle as Guardian Angel, -merely turned about and started on again in dignified -silence. But from the corners of her eyes she watched -the unsuspecting Luther, for she knew the missile -would reach its mark. Her silent prophecy was correct. -Through the snowy air the missile flew. It -landed, with force, on the victim's back, just below his -neck. He straightened up and looked about. Then -with a shout of defiance he scooped a handful of snow, -quickly rolled it into a ball and sent it toward the -enemy. Here the unexpected happened. The snow -ball, thrown in a hurry, would have missed Cyrus by -a yard or more even had Fate allowed it to go its way. -But Deacon Phineas Whitlock intervened. This stern -old puritan of ferocious aspect, of iron will and despotic -temper, the terror of children and of all other -habitual sinners, was just passing Cyrus in solemn dignity, -toward the store.</p> - -<p>The snowy sphere forwarded by Luther landed full -upon the deacon's mouth. And, as the deacon's mouth -happened to be partly open at the time—from his habit -of preaching to himself—he received within it a portion -of the missile as it smashed and spread about his -face. Swiftly he wiped his face with the back of a -hand. His temper was a hot one. Luther knew it,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> -and he grabbed the rope to his sled and disappeared -down the hill behind the store, with a velocity no -elderly deacon could hope to attain. Spluttering and -wiping snow from his mouth and nose he turned -threatening eyes on Cyrus. In a voice between a gasp -and a shout of rage he demanded:</p> - -<p>"Who is that boy? Who is he? What's his -name?"</p> - -<p>Cyrus shook his head. "I don't know, sir."</p> - -<p>"Yes, you do! Who is he? What's his name?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know, sir. Honestly I don't."</p> - -<p>"Don't know, you young rascal! You have eyes. -What's his name?"</p> - -<p>But Cyrus, with a protesting, most polite and sorrowful -gesture with both his hands, again proclaimed -his ignorance. "I really don't know, sir. The air -is so full of snow I didn't see his face."</p> - -<p>Deacon Whitlock again spluttered. His speech was -incoherent, but doubt and anger were plainly indicated. -However, he turned away—still muttering.</p> - -<p>Then the Guardian Angel approached the liar. "Cyrus -Alton! How can you do such a thing?"</p> - -<p>"What thing?"</p> - -<p>"Deacon Whitlock knows perfectly well you knew -who it was, and that you told him a lie. And he will -despise you for it. So would everybody else. So do -I despise you for it."</p> - -<p>His only answer to this was a look of mingled sorrow -and remonstrance. Then, instead of trying to -defend himself, as the Guardian Angel expected, he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> -looked away. He also heaved a sigh,—a sigh of -weariness and discouragement, an unboylike, elderly -sigh such as grown-ups use.</p> - -<p>The Guardian Angel continued. "And I should -think you would be ashamed to be such a coward."</p> - -<p>Cyrus stiffened at the word. "A coward!"</p> - -<p>"Yes, coward. People only lie when they are afraid. -If you had been brave you would have told the truth."</p> - -<p>"But, Ruthy, you don't understand. I did it to save -Luther. If Deacon Whitlock knew who it was he -would tell Luther's father and Luther might get a -lickin'."</p> - -<p>Ruth shook her head. "Your duty was to tell the -truth—or say nothing."</p> - -<p>"No, sirree! That isn't true. The Bible says do -unto others as you'd like to have other fellers do unto -you. And I did just what I would want Luther to do -for me."</p> - -<p>This line of defense was confusing, and Ruth was -familiar with his skill in argument. She knew well -enough the pitfalls he could dig for the embarrassment -of any adversary. So, regarding him with the -sternest look she could bring into a very gentle face, -she said:</p> - -<p>"It is wrong to tell lies and you know it is. And -you are bad—just bad. Why don't you button up -your coat in front? The snow is actually blowing -down your neck."</p> - -<p>And she drew the collar of his overcoat closer about -his throat and tried to fasten it. "Why, the button is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> -gone! Joanna ought to see to it. You really ought -to have a mother, Drowsy. You aren't half taken -care of."</p> - -<p>This time Cyrus had nothing to say in his own defense. -She laid a hand against his cheek. "Your face -is hot. I believe you are sick now!"</p> - -<p>Cyrus smiled, and nodded. "I shouldn't wonder if -I was."</p> - -<p>"Why? How do you feel?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, sort of—sort of—funny."</p> - -<p>"How, funny?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know. Sort of cold and then hot and then -cold—and kind of trembly. That's why I didn't hit -Luther on the head instead of down on his back."</p> - -<p>"Now, Cyrus Alton, you go straight home and tell -your father just how you feel. Tell him all about it." -Then, with increasing severity: "It's a shame you -haven't got a mother. I believe it is because you are -bad and that's the way God punishes you."</p> - -<p>Then she turned away and started on again, Cyrus -close behind. In front of her own home she stopped -suddenly and wheeled about;—so suddenly that Cyrus -walked against her. He took a backward step, and as -they looked into each other's faces he said, quietly:</p> - -<p>"No, it doesn't."</p> - -<p>Ruth's eyes opened wide, in surprise. "Doesn't -what?"</p> - -<p>"It doesn't mean what you asked."</p> - -<p>"But, Drowsy, I didn't ask anything!"</p> - -<p>"You thought it, though."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Thought what?"</p> - -<p>"That because I told lies now I would not be an honest -man when I grew up. But that isn't so. I shall -be an honest man."</p> - -<p>"Yes, but I hadn't spoken a word. How could you -tell what I was going to say?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, I dunno. I can often do that."</p> - -<p>"Yes, you have done it before, but how do you do it? -How do you know? Just guess at it?"</p> - -<p>"No. It sort of comes—as if—well—just the usual -way—only without the words waiting to be spoken. -I guess it's natural enough."</p> - -<p>"Natural enough! Why, it's most mysterious. -Nobody else does it."</p> - -<p>"Oh, p'r'aps lots of people do it. We don't know -everybody."</p> - -<p>"But if many people did it we should have heard -about them. No, it's very mysterious. Why, Drowsy, -I had just opened my lips to say your being such a -liar now proves you will be a dishonest man and you -said, before I uttered a word, 'No, it doesn't.'"</p> - -<p>Cyrus smiled. "I guess it must be a sort of telegraphing -without wires, like that man Marconi has -just discovered."</p> - -<p>For a moment they stood in silence, Ruth looking -earnestly into the boy's slumbrous, half smiling eyes, -trying vainly to explain the unexplainable. "It's all -the harder to understand," she said, "because you could -only see the back of my head. And this horrid storm -was blowing between us."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Yes, it's funny, and I dunno much about it. But -I believe I could get it if I wasn't seeing you at all; -I mean, if you were way off, out of sight."</p> - -<p>"Really?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir! I believe I could. Let's try it some day. -Will you?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, little Drowsy, when ever you say."</p> - -<p>Once more she laid a hand against his face.</p> - -<p>"Your cheeks are hot again. Now you go straight -home and tell your father just how you feel, and have -Joanna sew on that button. Will you?"</p> - -<p>"Yep. All right."</p> - -<p>He started off. About a dozen yards away he -stopped and looked back. She was still standing -where he left her, and was watching him. The obvious -lack of confidence in his promise—or her air of -authority with all this military discipline caused a momentary -revolt. He picked up a handful of snow, -rolled it quickly in a ball and threw it. She saw it -coming, but merely bent her head and lifted an arm -in protection.</p> - -<p>'Twas a good shot. But the snowball, being soft, -merely broke against her arm. Ruth lowered the arm -and raised her head, slowly and calmly, as a Guardian -Angel who is invulnerable to earthly weapons. She -pointed toward his home.</p> - -<p>Cyrus raised his cap, moved it grandly through the -air in a sweeping curve, bowed very low, then turned -and marched away.</p> - -<p>He walked with no suspicion of pursuit. But Ruth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> -had obeyed a sudden impulse. She started forward -on a run, and when close behind him gave a sudden -push with both hands. He tumbled forward into a -drift and rolled over on his back. As he started to -get up, she pounced on him with all her weight. Then -with both knees on his chest she rubbed his face with -snow.</p> - -<p>Had the assailant been another boy, Cyrus would -have kicked and struck and fought him off. But you -do not kick and strike your aunts, your mother or your -best girl. So, he merely pushed and wriggled about, -with eyes and mouth tight shut.</p> - -<p>Zac seemed to enjoy the business as much as Ruth. -He barked and plunged about as if cheering for the -victor.</p> - -<p>Well into Cyrus's face Ruth rubbed the snow. -"Take that, you horrid boy, and that, and that!"</p> - -<p>With a triumphant laugh she took her knees from -his chest, jumped to her feet and ran away. And as -she ran she expected just what happened. For Cyrus, -also quickly on his feet, drew the backs of his mittens -across his eyes for clearer vision, then sent a snowball -toward the vanishing figure. It landed between her -shoulders. But she ignored it, and ran into her own -house without even a backward glance.</p> - -<p>For a moment Cyrus stood and watched her, then -started homeward.</p> - -<p>It was a friendly enough parting, but it might have -been different had they know how many years were -to come and go before they met again.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_153.png" alt="Chapter VIII image" /> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak">VIII - -<span class="ch">A WORKER OF MIRACLES</span></h2> - -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="uppercase">Something</span> of a liar was Cyrus, in emergencies, -but he told the truth when he said "lots of -things have been done that never were done before; -and mighty surprisin' things, too!"</p> - -<p>History bears him out. The stories of Grimm and -Andersen are commonplace events besides the victories -of Science. Interesting, indeed, would be the views -of Galileo on wireless telegraphy, or Botticelli's opinion -of the "movies," or even what language the British -commander might have used at Bunker Hill had the -Yankees employed aeroplanes. Since the impossible -is now in daily use, the dream of the visionary in -every home, incredible things have ceased to astonish. -Fairy tales are coming true.</p> - -<p>So thought Dr. Alton, on the afternoon following -that last interview between Ruth and Cyrus, when he -was suddenly converted from incredulity to compulsory<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> -faith in an achievement which he had believed impossible. -As he drove up to his own house Cyrus -leaned out of the sitting room window and told him -to go at once to Mrs. Heywood who had fallen on the -stairs and broken a leg. Dr. Alton asked no questions, -turned about and drove off. A few hundred yards -along the road he met Mr. Heywood, who, much agitated, -and traveling fast, as if trying to walk and run -at the same time. The doctor stopped and the clergyman -climbed in. As they started off Mr. Heywood exclaimed, -out of breath: "How fortunate this is. I was -afraid you might not be at home. Poor Alice, I fear, -has broken her leg."</p> - -<p>"Yes, so I heard. I am on my way there."</p> - -<p>"On your way to my house?"</p> - -<p>"Of course."</p> - -<p>Mr. Heywood turned in surprise. "You say you—you -knew of the accident?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"But, Doctor, you couldn't. It happened less than -ten minutes ago."</p> - -<p>"Cyrus told me. Perhaps somebody telephoned -him."</p> - -<p>"But I have no telephone."</p> - -<p>Dr. Alton smiled. "Possibly somebody is a faster -runner than you."</p> - -<p>"But no one was there except Alice, Ruth and myself."</p> - -<p>"Ruth may have done it."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Ruth has not left her mother. She is there now. -And nobody else knows of it."</p> - -<p>For a moment Dr. Alton was silent. "Bad news -travels fast, Mr. Heywood."</p> - -<p>"But not when there's nobody to carry it."</p> - -<p>"Yes, there's that miraculous new messenger boy, -wireless telegraphy."</p> - -<p>Mr. Heywood was in no mood for argument and -said no more as Dr. Alton obviously had little faith -in any mysterious messenger. So, for the moment, -the subject was dropped.</p> - -<p>When the bone was set—and it proved a simple -fracture—Mr. Heywood followed Dr. Alton to the -door. "I wish, Doctor, you would ask Cyrus how he -got his information—just to gratify my curiosity."</p> - -<p>"Are you absolutely sure that Ruth did not tell -him?"</p> - -<p>Mr. Heywood, for answer, stepped back into the -hall and called to his daughter, who at once came running -down the stairs.</p> - -<p>"Ruth," he said, "do you know how Cyrus heard of -your mother's accident so soon after it happened?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir. I told him."</p> - -<p>"You!" exclaimed her father. "Why Ruth, you -never left the house!"</p> - -<p>"And Cyrus," said Dr. Alton, "is at home, confined -to the house with a bad cold. At least that's where he -ought to be."</p> - -<p>"Oh, sir, he is!" said Ruth. "He sent me a note -asking me to talk to him, on the porch, from our house<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> -at just five o'clock, and I did. Mother fell on the -stairs just as I began to talk so I told him about it."</p> - -<p>"Do you mean," said her father, "that your voice -carried from this house to his, nearly a mile away?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, no, sir! Cyrus doesn't have to hear your -voice, always. He has a special way of knowing -things."</p> - -<p>"A special way of knowing things?"</p> - -<p>Ruth nodded.</p> - -<p>"What do you mean, Ruth? What things?"</p> - -<p>"Things you don't say."</p> - -<p>"But you did say to him that your mother had an -accident."</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir; but he didn't have to hear it. He gets it -some other way." She added, with a smile: "He -doesn't get it through his ears."</p> - -<p>"Then how does he get it?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know. He says it is in the air. He says -he thinks it's a kind of wireless telegraph and must -work the same way."</p> - -<p>"Most extraordinary!" murmured Mr. Heywood, -and he looked at Dr. Alton as if hoping for more light -on a cloudy subject. Dr. Alton, however, was gazing -thoughtfully at the girl, whom he knew to be truthful. -He also knew the misleading possibility of a child's -imagination. "Do you really think, Ruth, that Cyrus -learned of the accident in that way?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know, sir. I couldn't hear anything from -<i>him</i>."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span></p> - -<p>"You mean if he answered back you couldn't get -it?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir. Nobody but Cyrus could understand -anything at all, so far away."</p> - -<p>"He knew that you couldn't hear anything <i>he</i> said?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir. He just wanted to find out if he could -tell what a person said so far away without hearing it."</p> - -<p>Mr. Heywood turned to Dr. Alton. "He evidently -succeeded, and it seems quite incredible."</p> - -<p>Dr. Alton did not reply, directly. He had closed his -eyes, and his own thoughts, whatever their nature, -were so absorbing that Mr. Heywood's voice had -failed to reach him. His abstraction, however, was -brief. With a smile he shook hands with Ruth. "I -thank you for your testimony, little lady. You make -a perfect witness." Then to her father: "I shall interview -Cyrus at once and we will try to reach a better -understanding of the mystery."</p> - -<p>He promised to call in the morning to see Mrs. -Heywood, and then departed.</p> - -<p>When he entered his own house, half an hour later, -he found the worker of miracles asleep on a sofa near -the open fire. Curled up at his feet lay Zac. But Zac -was not asleep. When the doctor moved toward the -fire and stood before it, warming his hands, Zac followed -him with his eyes. These cautioning eyes were -saying: "Don't make a noise or you'll wake him."</p> - -<p>Dr. Alton understood. He made no noise. But as -he looked down upon the sleeper he saw signs of vivid -dreams. The sleeper kicked, muttered and moved his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> -hands. One vigorous kick landed on Zac's forehead, -but the recipient merely closed his eyes, hoping for better -luck another time. One more kick, spasmodic and -violent, just missing Zac's head by an eighth of an -inch, and the boy awoke. As he awoke he sat up and -shouted:</p> - -<p>"She's out!"</p> - -<p>Seeing his father he swung his legs over the side of -the sofa, blinked and laughed aloud. Zac also laughed:—that -is, he barked. He always barked when Cyrus -laughed, just to be in it. To do whatever Cyrus did -was, of course, beyond a dog's ambition, but laughter -being a manifestation of his owner's joy, he expressed -himself with sincerity and enthusiasm by tail and -voice. Moreover, by always joining Cyrus in his -mirth the world might know that their tastes were -similar. In fact, to be identified with Cyrus in any -way was glory enough for any dog. Cyrus was really -the Only Boy. There were, of course, other boys, but -they could not all be Cyruses. God was not running -this world on any such plan. There was always one -specimen that overtopped the others. Only one Helen -of Troy, one Socrates, one Columbus, one George -Washington and one Cyrus. Zac was not familiar -with these names but they serve their humble purpose -in fixing the status of the human being that he loved -and respected above all others.</p> - -<p>"That's the funniest thing that ever was," said -Cyrus. "What do you think I dreamed? I dreamed -we were playing ball on the ice on Minnebuc Lake; us<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> -fellers against the women, and we all had skates on. -I was pitchin'. Mrs. Snell was at the bat and Deacon -Whitlock first base. Mrs. Snell's kind of fat, you -know, and fierce and dignified, but she wore trousers -like the rest of us. Oh, it was funny!"</p> - -<p>Here the miracle worker paused and wagged his -head, indicating suppressed mirth. "Well, I gave her -a twister. Jimminy! Wouldn't I like to give such balls -in a real game! 'Twas an up and down curve and a -fade away all in one. It went like a cork screw. No -feller would ever try to hit it. But Mrs. Snell did! -She just shut her eyes and let go—and she hit it! I -caught it and threw to first. It turned into a snowball -between me and Deacon Whitlock and hit him -square in his wide open mouth—for he's always talking -to himself, you know."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I know."</p> - -<p>"Well, Mrs. Snell dropped her bat and went sliding -down to first—on her skates—and when she got there -she couldn't stop. She just scooped up Deacon Whitlock -as if he'd been a little boy and carried him off in -her arms. He was screamin' and kickin' and wavin' -his arms like a mad baby. And Luther, who was out -in right field, grabbed her by the trousers and tried to -hold her back. Oh, it was funny!"</p> - -<p>Again the worker of miracles was convulsed with -mirth.</p> - -<p>Dr. Alton nodded, smiled and expressed a proper -appreciation of the unusual game. He looked down -into the boy's laughing face, as he spoke, and there<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> -came to him an impression, considered trivial at the -moment, but remembered later with a livelier interest. -It seemed to him, for a brief moment, that Cyrus's -smiling eyes were gazing deep into his own as if groping, -in a friendly way, for unspoken thoughts. Dr. -Alton realized that this impression was probably due to -his recent discovery of the boy's extraordinary faculty—a -usual look in Cyrus's eyes which, earlier in the -day, would have made no impression. But the look -was short, little more than a glance, and Cyrus lowered -his eyes to his swinging legs and pulled up a stocking -which was slipping down.</p> - -<p>"This afternoon," he said, "I broke a pane of glass -in the parlor."</p> - -<p>"How did that happen?"</p> - -<p>"Well," said Cyrus, still watching his swinging legs, -"I was playing barn-tick in the parlor with Zac. I -would throw the ball against the wall and catch it -when it bounced back, and every two or three throws -I'd let Zac get it. Then once, I threw it kind of careless——"</p> - -<p>"Carelessly, you mean."</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir, kind of carelessly and it hit the window -instead of the wall."</p> - -<p>Dr. Alton slowly moved his head in acknowledgment -of the explanation. The other subject on which -he desired light was so much more important than any -broken window pane that neither his face nor manner -expressed very serious disapproval. In fact, Cyrus<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> -had hardly finished his confession before his father -spoke.</p> - -<p>"How did you happen to know, this afternoon, that -Mrs. Heywood had broken her leg?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, that was a great idea! I've invented a new -kind of wireless!" And he went on to tell, but in different -words, the same story that Ruth had given. -"And just think! if everybody can do it there won't -be any need of telegraph machines, or letters either. -People can talk miles apart—just talk, as Ruth and I -did!"</p> - -<p>"Yes, of course, but how long ago did you find -you could do this?"</p> - -<p>"Only to-day. This was the first time."</p> - -<p>"But Ruth says you often know what people think, -or are going to say, before they say it?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir."</p> - -<p>"How long have you been able to do this?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, p'r'aps three or four years."</p> - -<p>"Why did you never happen to tell me?"</p> - -<p>"I supposed you knew. I supposed everybody -could do it."</p> - -<p>"No; it's a very unusual faculty—very unusual indeed." -Then, with a smile: "I suppose you have -often known what <i>I</i> was thinking?"</p> - -<p>Cyrus laughed. "Oh, yes; lots of times!"</p> - -<p>"When was the last time?"</p> - -<p>Cyrus hesitated. He looked down at Zac, as if for -encouragement. Then, with a glance from the corners -of his eyes: "Just now."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Just now!"</p> - -<p>Cyrus bobbed his head and grinned. "Yes, just -now."</p> - -<p>"Why—what was it?"</p> - -<p>Again Cyrus hesitated. His father smiled—the -smile of reassurance. "Go ahead and tell me about it."</p> - -<p>"Will you promise not to be angry or say anything -bad?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I promise."</p> - -<p>"Well, when I broke the window pane in the parlor -to-day I was going to wait and let Joanna tell you -about it when I was out of the way. But when you -looked at me to-night after I had told about the dream -I saw that you were in such a hurry to find out about -the message from Ruth, that you wouldn't think so -much of the window pane. So I told you."</p> - -<p>Dr. Alton smiled and kept his promise, refraining -from criticism. But he recalled the look in the boy's -eyes, a few moments since—the look as of gently exploring -another's thoughts. The recollection at this -present moment brought a singular feeling almost of -awe; as of something beyond human limitations. Was -he on the border land of the supernatural? And yet, -as he looked into the honest face of Cyrus, his wonder -did not lessen. He found, therein, no solution of the -mystery. He discovered nothing beyond the familiar -face of his normal, sane and healthy boy, absorbed in -things that became his age. He knew that Cyrus, like -other boys, would rather eat than pray; that he preferred -stealing apples to hearing sermons and would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> -rather be a pirate than a bishop. This knowledge did -not trouble the father. He had been a boy himself.</p> - -<p>Then, sitting on the old sofa beside Zac and Cyrus, -he asked many questions. They were all answered. -Cyrus had nothing to conceal. With boyish frankness -he told many things, some serious, some amusing—little -secrets of his own—when he had enjoyed his extraordinary -gift. His experiences in divining the -thoughts of others were given as matter of fact occurrences. -He had believed, until now, that this power -was possessed by all the world.</p> - -<p>It was a cozy group on the old sofa before the open -wood fire, Zac, Cyrus and Dr. Alton, and they stayed -an hour or more. Dr. Alton began to realize that this -faculty was not only mind reading but something far -beyond. That thoughts of others should come to this -boy with no effort of his own was almost incredible. -Even more amazing was the transmission through -space not only of spoken words but of the unuttered -wishes of far away friends. Was his son the master -of a vital secret, a mysterious power now unknown to -science but, in future years perhaps, to be common -knowledge? Was it within the realms of material science? -Or was it an individual form of spiritual sympathy, -some ethereal harmony attuned by superhuman -guidance to a chosen few?</p> - -<p>When Cyrus had gone upstairs to bed Dr. Alton sat -long before the open fine, remembering. And there -was much to remember. At last he stepped out into -the night air and stood upon the doorstep. Before<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> -him, in the moon-light, were snow-covered fields, tall -skeletons of elms and maples, their leafless branches -like barren memories against the sky. But this New -England landscape was not what he saw. He saw, -through his closed eyelids, the blue waters of the Adriatic. -Close beside him a pair of loving eyes, dark, -tragic—but smiling now—were looking deep into his -own and the woman's lips were asking if it were possible -for the unborn child to inherit its mother's power -of divining another's thoughts. And he—the wise -young doctor!—shook his head and smiled at the foolish -question.</p> - -<p>And, lo! not only had the power descended to the -boy but with it had come an added faculty even more -mysterious and unbelievable!</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_165.png" alt="Chapter IX image" /> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak">IX - -<span class="ch">DREAMS?</span></h2> - -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="uppercase">It</span> was the very next morning that Ruth's father, -the Rev. George Bentley Heywood, received an -urgent appeal from China to fill a vacancy in the -missionary field. Ten days after receiving the message -he, his wife and tearful daughter, were on a -train for San Francisco.</p> - -<p>The days that followed were solemn days for Cyrus. -And it so happened that the next ten years were solemn -years for Longfields. A new railroad carried -through a neighboring town left the village stranded. -The young men began to leave. When a house burned -there was no rebuilding. The tottering sheds behind -the weed-grown cellar of the Baptist Church were typical -of the town's decay. It was significant that when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> -Philetus Bisbee died—house and carriage painter—his -business had so shrunk that no one took his place. -The burning of the inn meant that Longfields as a -resting place for travelers was to be forgotten.</p> - -<p>People died in Longfields, but few were born. Pupils -at the little red school house dwindled to about a -dozen. The teacher's pay was so small that to accept -the position became an act of charity to the village.</p> - -<p>When Judge David Lincoln moved away he expressed -sincere regret: "I am sorry to go, but lawyers -cannot thrive on memories alone."</p> - -<p>Wits of neighboring towns referred to the sleeping -village as Pompeii, Old Has Been and Long Memories. -The main street with its overhanging elms was always -silent. And the common, once noisy with excited -children, was solemn in its stillness. Every day -seemed Sunday.</p> - -<p>In short, Longfields went the way of many other -New England villages. It became a restful and picturesque -reminder of better days. But, after all, it -was merely following, in its decay, the example of famous -queens of fashion, Troy, Babylon and Thebes.</p> - -<p>This gentle retirement to oblivion affected Cyrus -less than his father. For Dr. Alton sent him away to -school, to prepare for college, and the absent boy almost -forgot the tragedies of his home. Moreover, -Cyrus found much excitement in his new surroundings; -much to learn—and unlearn—from contact with -so many others of his age. They came from town -and country and from almost every state. What he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> -got from books was least in interest and often the -least in value. That million-sided problem, Human -Nature, was, as usual, the hardest to understand, the -last to be solved.</p> - -<p>Rarely does a boy with Anglo Saxon blood in his -veins find it necessary to cure himself of too much -polish. But even in this case Old Human Nature was -triumphant. When away from Longfields Cyrus found -his ceremonious courtesy was misapplied, misunderstood -and almost a misdemeanor. His eighteenth century -bows were regarded by his chambermaid as ironical; -by his classmates as a silly affectation, and were -resented by his instructors as efforts to be funny at -their expense.</p> - -<p>Further discouragement came one day in the -friendly warning of an older boy. "You know, -Drowsy, or you don't know, that those salaams of -yours give the impression that before you came to -this academy you were the colored porter on a parlor -car."</p> - -<p>The result was that before the end of the first term -his manners were only a trifle better than those of -other boys. Except, of course, when taken off his -guard, as in his interview with the wife of a certain -prosperous citizen who slipped and fell in coming out -of the post office. She was a sensitive lady, irascible -and of massive proportions. As she landed on the -sidewalk, two snow white stockings with stalwart -limbs inside waved briefly before the public eye. They -resembled the whitened limbs of a billiard table. Letters<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> -fell from one of her hands. With the other she -clung convulsively to a large umbrella. Three girls -involuntarily laughed aloud.</p> - -<p>As the lady climbed to her feet two light blue eyes -shot fury from a purple face. When Cyrus stepped -forward to gather up the scattered letters he forgot -all his recent training, raised his cap, moved it gracefully -in the air and bent low and reverentially—as the -First Lord of the Bed Chamber might salute his -Sovereign. But the boiling lady identified this seeming -mockery with the laughter of the maidens. She -brought the fat umbrella hard down upon the head of -Cyrus, and she struck with all her might. Luckily -for the recipient her hand was quivering with rage, -and no physical damage was accomplished. But the -damage to his pride was serious. As he straightened -up and looked the lady in the face his cheeks were hot. -The erstwhile drowsy eye showed astonishment—and -anger. His cherubic lips had parted: "Then pick 'em -up yourself, you stupid old——"</p> - -<p>At that instant he recalled an injunction of his -father. "Whatever may happen, Cyrus, always be a -gentleman." He had not been told just how a gentleman -should behave when beaten on the head with -an umbrella—and in public. But he closed his lips -without even beginning the sentence. He bowed -again, and this bow was even more elaborate than the -first.</p> - -<p>"I beg your pardon, madam."</p> - -<p>Then he turned, put on his cap and walked away.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></p> - -<p>Again was heard the giggle of the girls. That a -person should apologize for being hit on the head -with an umbrella was too funny for silence.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, the cost of all this experience and of -his pursuit of knowledge fell heaviest on his father. -The practical obliteration of his native town and field -of work meant financial embarrassment for Dr. Alton. -The few remaining inhabitants of the village were -now too poor to pay a doctor. To fit Cyrus for college, -and keep him there, Dr. Alton exhausted the -small capital left him by his father. When that was -gone he tried to sell his orchard and the best portions -of the farm. But no purchasers appeared. He -did sell, however, to a dealer in Boston, some family -heirlooms; rare pieces of Colonial furniture and all -his Canton china.</p> - -<p>To Cyrus, meanwhile, Fate was paying especial attention—with -more to come. During his last year in -college a surprising change took place in his ways of -spending time—surprising, but familiar to biographers. -Such transformations, where indifference suddenly -changes to ambition, indolence to industry, and where -the trifler becomes in earnest, have frequently occurred, -as with Julius Cćsar, St. Paul, Henry V of England, -William Shakespeare, Mirabeau and many other notables. -So there was nothing original in this sudden -awakening of Cyrus. During the first three years of -his college course he was a "good fellow." When -classmates entered his room with "Come along, -Drows, old man; chuck the books, and now for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> -real life," he joyfully obeyed and took chances on recitations: -with the usual result that only distant relations -were maintained with the upper end of his class. -It was the price of popularity and of the joy of living. -Toward the end of his last year, however, his more -festive companions were horrified by an unexpected -miracle. A little book came into his hands. It threw -a dazzling light on the possibilities of electricity. It -aroused his curiosity and so kindled his imagination -that he turned his back on the "real life" and became -studious. This sudden thirst for knowledge caused a -shock to his festive pals. They were anxious about -him. For, indeed, is there not cause for alarm, when -a Bully Boy, a Rattling Good Sport and a Live One -suddenly loses his grip on "real life" and becomes a -Bookworm, a High Brow and a Dead One?</p> - -<p>But Cyrus did not weaken. He clung to his new -love. Unavailing were such arguments as "Chuck the -science, Drowsy. There's time enough for wisdom -when you are old!" or, "Don't be a chump, Drows. -You can't be young forever. Remember, Youth is -short and Science long."</p> - -<p>And he felt neither shame nor repentance when his -own chum rebuked him. "Drows, old man, you are -just a crank. Harvard Students are not giving points -to old sharps in science. For God's sake don't be a -freak and get musty before your time."</p> - -<p>But words were wasted. This new ambition had -brought to him a revelation of his real self. He had -no suspicion, at the time, that the reading of this little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> -book was to lead to adventures surpassing the wonder -tales of his childhood. To his brain came a dazzling -light. He began to realize the infinite possibilities of -man's power, with the hidden forces of the universe -once in his control. A fantastic dream, perhaps, but -the more he thought the deeper grew his conviction. -He knew—or thought he knew—that he had it in him -to open wider the door that hides the secrets of the air. -Greater still would have been his confidence had he -known that a part of his inheritance was the courage -and the genius of the famous Italian scientist who -wrote the book. And it appeared from the little portrait -of the author that he, too, had slumbrous eyes. -It was ordained, however, that their relationship was -to remain hidden both from the great discoverer and -from his yet more daring grandson.</p> - -<p>At the end of the four years at Harvard, Dr. Alton's -finances were low, indeed. But Cyrus argued for a -course in Chemistry and Physics at the Institute of -Technology in Boston. He took the course, and it was -clearly understood that it meant bitter economies for -both father and son. But the economies were calmly -faced. Some of them meant serious sacrifice in personal -comfort, not only in the little luxuries of life, -but in clothing, food and fuel. Of blows to pride they -made no account.</p> - -<p>At last Cyrus finished his course at the "Teck." His -return to Longfields was on a smiling afternoon in -May and he found his father at home, sitting on the -porch with Luther Dean. Cyrus and his boyhood<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> -friend had seen little of each other during the last six -years. Luther had grown into a rather handsome -young man. Otherwise Fortune had not favored him. -With many other American boys, his ambition was to -become a millionaire, and to be quick about it. And -with many other boys in this upsetting country, he -looked down, in fancy, from the glittering peaks of -sudden wealth, upon the patient plodders in the valley -below. Not for him the goody mottoes of the Sunday -School. Not for him a wasted youth in "starting -at the bottom, working your way up" with "slow but -sure," and all the other maxims for smothering talent. -For him the Napoleonic grasp of opportunity, the cutting -of the Gordian knot. He believed in quick -achievement. He believed</p> - -<p class="p6"> -"There is a tide in the affairs of men<br /> -Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune." -</p> - -<p>And he believed in short cuts. His models for success -were the millionaires "who had struck it rich." -And he was firm in the faith that his revolt from "Patient -Industry," "Honest Toil" and similar delusions -was a sign of genius. In other words, he was the -sort of youth no man desires in his employ. For brief -periods he had held positions in different establishments -in Worcester. Now, again, he was out of a job.</p> - -<p>But Luther's manners were good, and his raiment -above reproach. At present, as the three men sat on -the porch, his spruce attire was in striking contrast -with the almost shabby garments of Dr. Alton and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> -his son. But Dr. Alton happened to be one of those -men who have no need of clothing unless for warmth -or propriety. In his head and face and figure were -lines of strength and beauty that gave distinction. -In his bearing and in all his movements there was -dignity and a natural grace. Were he dressed as a -beggar at a coronation he would have held his own.</p> - -<p>As for Cyrus, the last ten years seemed to have -made little difference, merely transforming him from -boy to man; this change, as wise men have long suspected, -being mostly outward. He grew to the usual -height, had the usual number of teeth, recited from -the usual books, played the usual games, committed -the usual follies, absorbed the usual experience from -the various victories and defeats of our usual life, -still retaining at twenty-one the drowsy eyes and curving -lips of his early childhood. Deep within him, however, -were aspirations and a strength of purpose that -contradicted the languid eyes and boyish mouth.</p> - -<p>After the greetings, and when various questions had -been asked and answered, Dr. Alton lighted his old -briarwood pipe, took a whiff or two and said to his -son:</p> - -<p>"And the great idea, Cyrus, any further developments?"</p> - -<p>"I should say there were! I've got it, father!"</p> - -<p>Dr. Alton raised his eyebrows. "Really? You don't -mean——"</p> - -<p>"Yes I do. I mean just that. I have found it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> -It's the wonder of wonders. And it works—even better -than I hoped."</p> - -<p>Dr. Alton straightened up and smiled—a smile of -surprise and pleasure.</p> - -<p>Cyrus returned the smile. At the same time his -drowsy eyes became less drowsy and in his voice was -a mild excitement. "And so simple! Why, I feel -like laughing when I think of it. The only wonder -is that hundreds of people have never discovered it."</p> - -<p>"What is it?" said Luther.</p> - -<p>Cyrus hesitated a moment, as if to be sure of his -words. "It's a simple and inexpensive device for -concentrating in a space about the size of your two -hands any quantity of electrical force."</p> - -<p>"When you say any quantity, do you mean enough -to run a typewriter—or an automobile?"</p> - -<p>"I mean enough to run a railroad train or an ocean -steamer; or to lift this house—or any other building."</p> - -<p>Luther smiled the smile of doubt. "And the thing -is no bigger than your two hands?"</p> - -<p>"It resembles two metal soup plates back to back."</p> - -<p>Luther whistled—a short whistle signifying a deficiency -of belief. "That sounds kind of—kind of—as -if somebody had wheels in his head. How does -the miracle get its power?"</p> - -<p>"From the atmosphere around it."</p> - -<p>"With no dynamo, nor motor, nor transformer?"</p> - -<p>"All that is between the metal dinner plates. Why -manufacture power when the whole universe is vibrating<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> -with it? It is like manufacturing air to -breathe."</p> - -<p>Luther leaned forward, excitement in his face. -"Why it doesn't seem possible. And you have really -done it, Drowsy?"</p> - -<p>Cyrus nodded.</p> - -<p>"But it will revolutionize everything!"</p> - -<p>"Yes—it will."</p> - -<p>"Is it some new form of electricity you discovered?"</p> - -<p>"No, merely a new way of applying our old knowledge. -You see, it has been known for some time that -air is energy. Dancing about us, in the atmosphere, -is plenty of power waiting to be harnessed; power -enough to toss mountains into space if we could only -direct it. You may have read about the tremendous -force in the vibrations of atoms."</p> - -<p>"No; not a word."</p> - -<p>"Well, every atom is a center of energy. And every -atom is composed of millions of electrons. Do you -happen to be interested in electro kinetics?"</p> - -<p>"Don't even know what it means."</p> - -<p>"It relates to the properties of electric currents. My -discovery is merely the concentration and directing -of those currents. The apparatus is about the size of -an apple pie, and so simple that I laugh when I think -of it."</p> - -<p>"But, Drowsy, you can't get so much power in such -a little mechanism. That thing could never start a -locomotive or an ocean steamship."</p> - -<p>"Start it! A dozen of these little things fastened - - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> - -to an ocean steamer could lift it in the air to any -height, crew, passengers and cargo, and drive it at -any rate of speed and for any distance. And at no -cost."</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a id="Fig_5"></a> - <img src="images/i_176.jpg" alt="" /> - <p class="caption">"COULD LIFT IT IN THE AIR TO ANY HEIGHT, CREW, PASSENGERS, -AND CARGO"<span class="no-break">—<i>Page 155</i></span></p> -</div> - -<p>Luther whistled. "Is Cyrus guying us, Doctor, or -is he only dotty?"</p> - -<p>Dr. Alton smiled, but gave no answer.</p> - -<p>"After you had lifted the steamship up into the -air," said Luther, "how soon could you get her across -the ocean?"</p> - -<p>"That's for the captain to decide. He could do it -comfortably in an hour or two—or, in five or ten minutes, -if he were really in a hurry."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I say, Drowsy, come down to earth again, and -join us."</p> - -<p>"No, I can't come down when I once get up. But I -don't blame you for not believing it, Luther. I only -believe it myself when I see it working. It is really -easy to understand, though, when you know that electro -magnetic waves in the ether are cavorting through -space at the rate of about a hundred and eighty-six -thousand miles a second, forced by our friends the electrons. -There's no reason why my device should not -go at about the same rate. That would take our passengers -and cargo across the ocean in considerably -less than one minute."</p> - -<p>Dr. Alton shook his head. "No, Cyrus, that's too -sudden even for a Yankee."</p> - -<p>Luther assumed an expression of alarm. "Do you -think Cyrus will get over this, Doctor? Is he wild<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> -on other subjects, or is it only one screw that's loose?"</p> - -<p>Cyrus laughed and turned toward his father. -"What an awful joke if Luther should be right! I -could easily believe it a crazy dream if one or two -scientists had not already prophesied it. The thing -was sure to come. And now that it's here it seems -too simple to be true. I merely happen to be the first -man to stumble on it."</p> - -<p>"Just what is it?" said Luther. "How do you do -it? What's the process?"</p> - -<p>For an instant their eyes met. To Luther came an -odd sensation he had known as a boy—that the tranquil -gaze of Cyrus was reading his secret thoughts. -As his thoughts at that moment were not for publication -the sensation was disturbing. To hide his embarrassment -he turned away toward Dr. Alton, and -made a joking remark about trips to Europe, over and -back, on Saturday afternoon. "It even beats wireless," -he said.</p> - -<p>"Well, rather!" said Cyrus. "Wireless will soon -be a back number."</p> - -<p>Again Luther whistled. "Wireless a back number! -Well, that's certainly going some!"</p> - -<p>But Dr. Alton showed little surprise, merely regarding -his son more attentively. "What is to take -its place, Cyrus?"</p> - -<p>"Just the spoken word. Its transmission through -the ether with no mechanical appliance for sending or -for receiving."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span></p> - -<p>Luther smiled. "It will have to be a pretty loud -voice."</p> - -<p>"No louder than wireless. It will be carried by the -same forces that carry the wireless message, only -more simply applied. The air about us is alive with -electric force that is perfectly willing to take our messages -without the machinery."</p> - -<p>Dr. Alton smiled. "Well, you seem to have confidence -in it. That's a good beginning, anyway."</p> - -<p>Cyrus also smiled. "I have already done it."</p> - -<p>"Already done it?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir; and more than once. Billy Saunders and -I went out into the country, stood nearly a mile apart, -spoke in ordinary tones and each heard more than -half the other said."</p> - -<p>"With no instruments whatever?"</p> - -<p>"None except a little receiver about the size of -your watch."</p> - -<p>Luther whistled again. On his face was a look of -surprise—the Surprise that's the brother of Doubt.</p> - -<p>Dr. Alton was looking earnestly at his son. "Is that -really true, Cyrus? Are you absolutely sure no previous -knowledge of each other's intentions may have -helped a little?"</p> - -<p>Then Cyrus explained the experiments in detail. -He told how they purposely chose subjects unknown -to each other; how they put on paper the words as -they arrived; that the percentage of messages correctly -received increased at every trial; and that -weather conditions, wind, rain or sunshine seemed to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> -make little difference in the results. After answering -other questions, he said to his father:</p> - -<p>"But that is only the beginning. The day is coming -when even the spoken word will be superfluous."</p> - -<p>"Just what do you mean, Cyrus?"</p> - -<p>"I mean communicating thought by electric induction—by -direct vibrations."</p> - -<p>"Say, Cyrus!" exclaimed Luther, "the Arabian -Nights isn't in it with you!"</p> - -<p>"No, it isn't," said Cyrus. "For I have already done -it."</p> - -<p>"Done what?"</p> - -<p>"Sent thought waves—and received them."</p> - -<p>"Oh, come off."</p> - -<p>But Dr. Alton was looking earnestly at his son. He -recalled one or two occasions when Cyrus had accomplished -this very thing. And now, as they looked into -each other's eyes, he suspected his own thoughts, at -this very moment, were being read. His suspicions -were correct, for Cyrus answered an unspoken question.</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir, it's the same as those you are recalling. -But now I understand it. Much depends, of course, -on the individual. Latent faculties in individuals, however, -can be surprisingly developed. I do believe that -within a few years our thoughts, spoken and unspoken, -will be traveling through the air as wireless -travels now."</p> - -<p>Dr. Alton made no reply. He closed his eyes for -a time and smoked in silence. His thoughts went back<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> -to those unexplained episodes when Cyrus was a boy; -then further back to the villa by the Adriatic. He -was recalling a conversation in the loggia of that hidden -villa when Luther rose to his feet and exclaimed:</p> - -<p>"Is there anything, Cyrus, too impossible for you to -believe?"</p> - -<p>"Nothing—if it is interesting. I never reject a good -fairy tale. Why be a skeptic? To look at a skeptic's -face is enough. His digestion is never good. He -thinks with his stomach and his stomach reacts on -his brain. That means farewell to enthusiasm and to -all the best things of life. Ambition and gastric juice -are partners. Had Buddha, Christ or Mohammed been -skeptics you never would have heard of them. No -skeptic could possibly succeed as an inventor, poet, explorer, -patriot, or as any other kind of hero. He fails -before he begins."</p> - -<p>Cyrus paused for a moment, then added: "Perhaps -you are both saying to yourselves, better be a skeptic -than a credulous ass. But that's open to argument. -The credulous ass is not only happier but he has Hope -for a backer, and he is a heap sight more likely to get -somewhere than the pessimist. The pessimist never -starts."</p> - -<p>His father nodded approval.</p> - -<p>Luther put on his hat. "Right you are, Drowsy. -Me for a credulous ass. I swallow all you say, electric -miracles and all. Of course, this sending ideas -about the world free of expense and without even the -trouble of saying them, is quite a morsel for the ordinary<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> -throat, but I've got it part way down and am -holding on to it. If what you say is true, miracles -are with us. Jimminy! It's a large idea!"</p> - -<p>"No miracle at all," said Cyrus. "Not half so miraculous -as the growth of that apple tree from a seed. -And the human brain! Two handfuls of gray matter—and -what it achieves! Did you ever happen to -realize what a self-starting, Johnny-on-the-Spot, up-to-date -miracle your memory is?"</p> - -<p>Luther laughed. "Well, no. Not enough to forget -my meals."</p> - -<p>"Then do it some time. It's the champion mystery -of the world. No man knows how it works. We -know it furnishes us with names and places, facts and -figures and events without limit, and they come to us -instantaneously without waiting to be called. A thousand -telegraph clerks with an acre of pigeon holes -could not accomplish in an hour what your memory -does in a second. It is quicker than greased lightning. -It's the miracle of miracles. Why, Luther, -these thought waves of mine, compared with it, are -so simple and so easy that any normal baby could -operate them."</p> - -<p>"I guess you are right."</p> - -<p>After a few more words, this conversation ended, -and Luther departed. But Dr. Alton and Cyrus sat -a long time on the little porch talking seriously of the -Great Discovery.</p> - -<p>But the inventor, later that afternoon, was not too -much absorbed in electric wonders to visit a corner at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> -the end of the garden. There he straightened up a -slab that marked a grave. The slab was of wood. He -brushed the surface with careful hands and read the -letters he himself had carved nine years before.</p> - -<p class="p3"> -HeRe Lies<br /> -Zac ALton He<br /> -Was VeRY SmARt<br /> -and ALSO<br /> -GooD<br /> -</p> - -<p>These lines Cyrus always read with a smile—not of -mirth, but of satisfaction with their truth and justice -to his old friend's character. Pleasant indeed -were those memories!—lively and bounding memories: -of adoration for himself and of unswerving loyalty to -the final breath of a short but joyous life.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_185.png" alt="Chapter X image" /> -</div> - - -<h2 class="nobreak">X - -<span class="ch">THE FARTHEST TRAVELER</span></h2> - -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="uppercase">One</span> sultry morning about six weeks later, -Luther Dean got off a train at Springfield. -Along the shady side of the main street he -walked. He walked faster than usual. His eyes, his -hot, perspiring face and general manner showed suppressed -excitement. And why not? Wealth, and -without labor, would soon be his.</p> - -<p>A few blocks from the station he turned into another -street, then, not far from the corner he entered a small -shop. On the front window of the shop were these -words:</p> - -<div class="sign"> -<p class="p4">I. KATZ</p> -<p class="p5">ELECTRICAL CONTRACTOR</p> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span></p> - -<p>The brevity of his name, as here shown, gave as -much pleasure to the proprietor as he had suffered annoyance -from his fuller and more various name, Isidore -Pollacksek Zwillenberg Stchcrbatcheff Katz. And -even his last little name had proved almost a curse, as -his intimates called him "Malty" and "Puss Katz"; -also "Tom Katz" and "How Many." But I. Katz, -of black eyes and muddy complexion, was an ambitious -young man, industrious, surprisingly clever, watchful -and polite. He and Luther Dean had one desire in -common—an unquenchable thirst for wealth. There -was, however, this important difference, that Katz was -willing to work for it, while Luther regarded thirst as -a substitute for effort.</p> - -<p>When Katz's mother, Rosa Hlawatsch, married -Emanuel Katz she had a prosperous brother-in-law, -Schweers Hjort, who lent the bridal pair enough -money to start for America. Two years after Isidore's -birth his parents died. Then Mr. and Mrs. -Zoob Pschenitza adopted the orphan and cared for -him until his nineteenth year, when he found employment -with Mr. Hitzrot Fuss, an electrician. Mr. Hitzrot -Fuss was a cousin of the Zoob Pschenitzas.</p> - -<p>This July morning when Luther entered his shop I. -Katz had been in business for himself about a year. -The opening of the door rang a bell that gave warning -to the proprietor, at work in a little shop at the rear. -Luther walked directly to this little shop. I. Katz -laid down his work.</p> - -<p>"Ah! Good morning, Dean."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Same to you, Kittens."</p> - -<p>"Haven't seen you for a long time. How are you? -What's the news from Longdeado?"</p> - -<p>"News enough—this time."</p> - -<p>As the two men stood by the work bench, and Katz -took a second look at his visitor's face, he said:</p> - -<p>"What's the matter? Something on your mind?"</p> - -<p>Luther removed his hat and coat and lit a cigarette -before answering.</p> - -<p>"Well, I should say there was. Have you any objections -to being a millionaire?"</p> - -<p>"Not especially. Got the cash with you?"</p> - -<p>"Not this morning. But I've got the next thing to -it."</p> - -<p>If Katz felt any excitement at this announcement -he concealed it. Perhaps he knew Luther too well. -With a smile, and a slight movement of the shoulders, -he said:</p> - -<p>"Of course it's a dead sure thing."</p> - -<p>"It is."</p> - -<p>"Well, that's something."</p> - -<p>"You know, Katzy, the only sure things in this -world are death and taxes."</p> - -<p>"Yes. So I've heard."</p> - -<p>"Well, compared with this thing of mine, taxes are -dreams and death never happens. Listen. I can -place in your hands a contrivance hardly bigger than -a dinner plate that generates electricity without machinery; -that has infinite power; that can drag railway -trains of any size at any speed and can drive an ocean<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> -steamer. It weighs about five pounds and costs nothing -to run."</p> - -<p>Katz slowly moved his head, and frowned.</p> - -<p>"It's a bad habit, Luther."</p> - -<p>"What's a bad habit?"</p> - -<p>"Cocktails in the morning. You are seeing miracles."</p> - -<p>Luther protested. Then he explained The Thing -in detail. Katz pronounced it impossible.</p> - -<p>"Of course it's impossible!" said Luther. "That's -why it's so devilish good. It does the impossible all -day long and all night, too. Why, Katz, it can do -anything you ask it—and with no expense. God -Almighty supplies the electricity—all you want and -for nothing. Can you beat it?"</p> - -<p>The electrician began to show interest.</p> - -<p>"But are you pop sure it can do these things? Have -you seen it work yourself?"</p> - -<p>Then to I. Katz, with the bright eyes and muddy -complexion, Luther told of the wonders he had seen -with his own eyes—touched with his own hands. He -described the two soup plates of metal fastened together, -with the mysterious space between—the small -chamber which held the Miracle of Science. And its -priceless secret to be theirs! To give some idea of -the power of these two plates he told Katz what happened -to Delos King and his load of hay. Delos -King's big load of hay got stuck in the meadow. The -wheels had sunk in the mud up to the hubs. Two -yokes of oxen tried in vain to stir it. Then Cyrus<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> -Alton, carrying The Thing in his hand went down to -the meadow, fastened what Delos King thought were -two kitchen plates to the end of the pole, turned the -button a fraction of an inch and drew the big load of -hay out of the bog and up the hill as if it had been a -baby carriage!</p> - -<p>Moreover, Luther described to Katz his own experience -with this device. When fastened to his chest -with straps, that went over his shoulder and under -his arms, he had turned the little button and had been -lifted gently from the floor and he floated at will near -the roof of the old barn.</p> - -<p>"But what flabbergasted the old hard heads more -than any other one thing," continued Luther, "was the -way Cyrus fixed the weather vane on the Baptist -Church. It had been struck by lightning—bent and -twisted. It's a tall spire and the deacons were trying -to figure the cheapest way of getting up there without -a scaffolding, when Cyrus happened along. 'What's -it going to cost you?' he asked. 'Twenty-five dollars -at least,' they said. 'Give me twenty-five,' said Cyrus, -'and I'll do it before night.' 'It'll take you half a day -to get up there either by rope or scaffolding,' they -said. 'I can get up there in one minute,' said Cyrus, -'after I once start.' At first they laughed, but they -agreed to pay twenty-five dollars. Then Cyrus went -home—this was in the forenoon—came back with his -two soup plates; also a hammer, a monkey wrench and -a few other tools. And right there in front of the -crowd, he slung the bag of tools across his shoulders,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> -strapped on the soup plates, turned a button and rose -up in the air like a wingless angel. Gee! I tell you -the deacons stared! Their eyes were wider open than -their mouths!"</p> - -<p>"No wonder!" said Katz. "They had reason to be! -And did he fix the vane?"</p> - -<p>"Well, rather! It didn't take him an hour."</p> - -<p>Luther told of other doings that had startled Longfields; -of the metal contrivance over ten feet long -that resembled a fat cigar; how Cyrus Alton sat inside -and, without apparent machinery, rose up through -an opening in the barn and sailed at will, in any direction -and to any altitude. In one evening he had -sailed over the whole of Massachusetts—and more, -too.</p> - -<p>Then I. Katz, whose bright black eyes had grown -brighter and brighter, asked many questions. All his -questions were answered promptly, and so clearly as -to leave no doubt that the tale was true.</p> - -<p>"But how can you get hold of the miracle?" he -asked. "What's your scheme?"</p> - -<p>Then the artful Yankee unfolded to the still more -artful Asiatic his plan—a plan so simple that even -the artful Asiatic began to feel prosperous. Some -pleasant morning and very soon, while talking with -Cyrus, Luther would buckle on the little machine, as -if to sail about the barn. Cyrus would probably consent, -as on two previous occasions. Then he, Luther, -would turn the button too far, as if by accident, pretend -to lose control of the machine, and sail up<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> -through the big skylight of the barn, which was always -open in pleasant weather. He would wriggle his elbows -as if trying to regain control of The Thing. -Once up in the air, above the roof of the barn, he -would steer in the direction of a certain pond, two -miles away, all the time working his hands and elbows -as if trying to get back to earth.</p> - -<p>"Are you sure you can do it?" said Katz. "You -might really lose control if you didn't keep your -head."</p> - -<p>Luther smiled. "Oh, I can do it all right! I have -no idea of steering for heaven before my time. You -see I've already done it, and I guess I did it about -as well as Alton himself. It's really as easy as driving -a Ford—and lots more fun. Why, Pussy, it's like -being a bird!"</p> - -<p>Katz nodded. "Yes, it sounds good. But where -will you go when you once get up?"</p> - -<p>"To the big pond, three miles off. It's always a deserted -place—especially forenoons. I shall land in -a little cove I know, unstrap the machine and hide it -in the woods there. Then I shall wade comfortably -into the shallow water and lie down for a minute,—with -my clothes on."</p> - -<p>I. Katz's eyebrows went up. "I see; I see! Bright -idea! The machine carried you into water and you -had to swim ashore."</p> - -<p>"Even so."</p> - -<p>"And you lost the machine, which is somewhere in -the mud at the bottom of the pond."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Yep."</p> - -<p>"And you'll hurry back to your friend while still -wet, so he'll know that what you say is true!"</p> - -<p>"You've got it. And that afternoon I'll bring the -invention to your shop."</p> - -<p>I. Katz, of the muddy complexion, stroked his -Oriental nose and nodded approval. His comprehending -eyes lingered for an instant on Luther's face with -a look that indicated admiration and a friendly feeling. -But the unflattering thoughts it covered were -not divined by the New Englander.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It was decreed by incorruptible Fate that Luther's -opportunity should come the very next morning.</p> - -<p>Cyrus was at work in the barn. Dr. Alton, sitting -just outside the door in the shade of the building, was -reading a war article in a French journal that some -one had sent him from Europe. Luther moved idly -about, as if to pass the time. At a moment when he -saw Cyrus especially absorbed in his work—inside the -big iron cigar—he took up The Thing and adjusted -the straps about his shoulders.</p> - -<p>"I am going to float around the barn," he said, "and -see how the roof looks."</p> - -<p>"All right," said Cyrus, keeping on with his work -and not turning his head.</p> - -<p>To avoid all risk of hitting the sides of the skylight—for -he must rise with apparently unexpected -suddenness—he stepped outside the building. With -a smile and a nod he said to Dr. Alton:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span></p> - -<p>"If you never saw a real angel, Doctor, here's your -chance."</p> - -<p>As he put his fingers to the button Cyrus came running -out. "Stop! Hold on Luther! Let go! That's -not adjusted!"</p> - -<p>But Luther was not to be thwarted at the high tide -of victory—with riches within reach. He put his -fingers to the button and said, with a smile:</p> - -<p>"Oh, I know how it——"</p> - -<p>The sentence was never finished. He had given the -slightest turn, having a sensible fear of the unknown -force within. In his haste he must have turned it a -fraction more than he intended. For then happened -the unprecedented thing—the thing without parallel in -human life; so awful, so solemn, so unearthly, that the -two men who saw it stood dumb in horror.</p> - -<p>As he was speaking, with the smile on his lips, he -was lifted from the earth by the straps beneath his -arms with a violence that stopped his speech—and his -breathing. Up he shot, more like a cannon ball than -a rocket. So fast he went, gaining speed with every -second, growing smaller and fainter to the two spectators, -until—and it all happened in the shortest minute—he -disappeared, a tiny speck in the blue sky above.</p> - -<p>He had no chance to change his speed.</p> - -<p>His straw hat, with its crimson band,—like a frivolous -friend too light of heart for sudden tragedy—came -tumbling earthward, then floated off to the west -in playful, easy spirals. A gay farewell to a lifeless -body. For death had been instantaneous.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a id="Fig_6"></a> - <img src="images/i_194.jpg" alt="" /> - <p class="caption">"—AND GLIDE FOREVER, A HOMELESS VAGRANT THROUGH -THE DUSKY VOID"<span class="no-break">—<i>Page 171</i></span></p> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span></p> - -<p>Dr. Alton and Cyrus stood looking upward—at the -spot in the heavens where Luther had disappeared from -earthly vision. It was hard to believe what their eyes -had seen. And when, in silent horror, they looked into -each other's faces, both knew that this sudden traveler -had started on a darker and a longer voyage than any -previous explorer; that he was moving at a speed -unknown to other mortals, and that his journey would -never end. Both knew that within the hour he would -be beyond the orbit of the earth; that the power propelling -him felt no exhaustion. Unless colliding with -other celestial derelicts, or drawn into the path of some -distant planet—Neptune or Uranus—he would push -further out into the Infinite. Then, would he join -some starry host, off toward the Milky Way, the -Southern Cross or Orion's Belt, and glide forever, a -homeless vagrant through the dusky void?</p> - -<p>His youthful features, untouched by decaying moisture -in the icy gloom, might remain, through the countless -ages as his friends last saw him, long after his -native earth—like its own moon—had become a lifeless -ball. Or, beyond the visible stars, far out into bottomless -Space,—too far ever to return—is he to wander -through the uncharted regions of yet remoter -worlds?</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_197.png" alt="Chapter XI image" /> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XI - -<span class="ch">UNSIGHT UNSEEN</span></h2> - -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="uppercase">"After</span> midnight, Uncle George, and miles from -anywhere, so do please hurry."</p> - -<p>These were parting words to an uncle as he -started back to the nearest house—perhaps a quarter -of a mile away—to get gasoline for his motor.</p> - -<p>Alone in the car, the waiting woman began to -realize the extraordinary darkness that enveloped her. -Along the road, in front, the two head lights sent -their beams of light. But elsewhere, on either side, -behind her and above, the black air seemed almost -threatening in its silence. So solemn was this silence -that she began to imagine herself the only living creature -in England. Her own home was in another country, -and the invisible scenery on either side was all -a mystery. It might be open fields or densest forest—or -both. But the damp air that came slowly against -her face seemed laden with odors of yet darker places, -of deep ravines or sunless caves.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p> - -<p>Was this hideous gloom a regular habit with English -nights? Being in a foreign land this darkness was, -perhaps, more terrifying than darkness in a more familiar -country. In the heavens above were no signs -of light, either of light that had been or of light to -come. And it seemed, in this tomb-like silence, as if -the very universe were dead: as if she had drifted into -space—the infinite space of her astronomy. From -this sable silence she sought relief in watching a portion -of the road that lay before her, now illumined -by the two lanterns of the car. These beams of light -seemed a cheerful, human bond between life and -death.</p> - -<p>From the gloom, on her right, came the hopeless -hoot of an owl. It seemed a voice from the sepulcher—a -summons to despair.</p> - -<p>A hundred feet, or more, in front of her, where the -farthest rays of this light began to lose themselves -and mingle with the darkness, she saw a rabbit jump -into the road, and speed across it. She wondered -what had frightened him. Also, she was inclined to -blame him for not being safe at home with his family -instead of roaming about the world on such an evil -night. To a woman yearning for a sign of life 'twas -a welcome sight; but this rabbit, although a thing of -life, was as noiseless and unreal as the ghostly world -about him. With his half dozen silent leaps through -the bar of light he seemed a phantom creature, "of -such stuff as dreams are made of."</p> - -<p>From his nervous haste she judged that he was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> -frightened. It was possible, of course, that he was a -fearless rabbit and merely taking exercise for his -health. But this theory was not accepted, and she -watched with interest to see what sort of a pursuer, -if any, might appear. Being in that state of mind -when almost any imaginings might come true, she -would not have been surprised had the pursuer been -a real phantom.</p> - -<p>But these speculations became less trifling, of a sudden, -and were transferred to quite a more serious object. -From the same place, in the same ghostly manner, -but more slowly than his predecessor, stepped the -figure of a man. Shading his eyes with a hand, he -stood for a moment in the stream of light as if taking -his bearings, or dazed by the glare of the lanterns. -Then he scraped, with his foot, a line in the road at -right angles to it, piling up a little mound of earth. -The witness, in the car, supposed he was marking for -future guidance the spot at which he entered from -the blacker world. At last, and always with a hand -before his eyes, he came toward the blinding headlights. -The invisible spectator had straightened up and -her dreaming eyes had opened wider. For the figure -was a strange one. On its head was a curious cap, -which seemed to be of leather. There were pieces at -the ears standing up like wings, as on some ancient -helmets she had seen in pictures. The rest of his attire -also resembled leather, with high leggings reaching -above his knees. Around his waist a wide metallic -band, something wider and more important than a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> -simple belt, glistened as he moved. The girl, in alarm, -stood up, looked back and listened for the absent uncle. -She heard nothing, and could see nothing. She sat -down again, and waited.</p> - -<p>The man, of medium height and slender figure, appeared -to move unsteadily, as if weak, or dizzy. He -walked slowly, and stopped, once or twice, as if to -balance himself on unreliable legs. The unseen spectator -thought he might be ill, or injured in some way. -When, at last, he passed from the glare of the headlights -and came into the darkness, beside the car, she -could discern him, dimly—or rather felt his presence—as -he stood there. And she knew that he was trying, -and probably in vain, to form some idea of the seated -figure before him. At last he spoke.</p> - -<p>"Can you tell me, sir, where this is; what place?"</p> - -<p>With these words the girl's fears departed. For, -not only were they uttered in a gentle, well modulated -tone, but the voice itself had a pleasing quality.</p> - -<p>"I don't know, sir. But my uncle will be here in a -moment. He can tell you."</p> - -<p>She could see that he took a step backward, and -stood further away.</p> - -<p>"I beg your pardon, madam. One can't see much -in this light. Could you tell me what—er—what state -this is?"</p> - -<p>"What state?"</p> - -<p>"Yes—if you please."</p> - -<p>This was a yet harder question. Did he mean some -administrative division of the country which she had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> -never learned. Being unfamiliar with English political -geography, she answered simply.</p> - -<p>"I don't know."</p> - -<p>This time it was the questioner who was surprised. -But, even more gently than before, he inquired:</p> - -<p>"You don't know what state we are in?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir."</p> - -<p>There was a short silence.</p> - -<p>"Could you tell me," he inquired, always deferentially, -"the name of the nearest town?"</p> - -<p>"Droitwich. I think we are in it now."</p> - -<p>"Droitwich?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, Droitwich."</p> - -<p>He repeated the name as if hearing it for the first -time.</p> - -<p>"It must be a small place," he said.</p> - -<p>"I think it is."</p> - -<p>"What is the nearest town of importance;—the nearest -city?"</p> - -<p>"Worcester."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Worcester! Thank you. I know Worcester. -But I never heard of that other place,—this place,—Droitwich. -How far are we from Worcester?"</p> - -<p>"About six miles, I think—six or seven."</p> - -<p>"Oh, really!" He seemed relieved. There was happy -surprise in his tone. "Thank you. I am very much -obliged. Good night."</p> - -<p>He walked away, out into the stream of light. -Slowly he walked, carefully and with uncertain steps.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> -A few yards away, however, he stopped, hesitated, -then turned, came back and again stood beside her.</p> - -<p>"I beg your pardon for being so persistent, but may -I ask you one more question, even more foolish than -the others? This city of Worcester is in the State -of Massachusetts, is it not?"</p> - -<p>"In the state of Massachusetts?"</p> - -<p>"Yes—that Worcester is the one you mean, is it -not?"</p> - -<p>Now if this conversation had occurred in the United -States the girl might have answered wisely, for she -was more familiar with that country and knew something -of its geography. But when such wide-of-the-mark -questions were propounded in the heart of England -they brought bewilderment. Moreover, they indicated -an unbelievable ignorance or a wandering -mind—or impertinence.</p> - -<p>Her frown, although invisible in the darkness, -seemed to reach the traveler.</p> - -<p>"I beg your pardon, but I really have no idea where -I am. Would you mind just telling me what part of -the country we are in? Are we in Massachusetts?"</p> - -<p>His manner was earnest. The sincerity of his tone -again inspired confidence—and awakened her sympathy. -"I don't quite know how to tell you, but we -are very far from Massachusetts."</p> - -<p>"Then what state <i>is</i> this?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know just what you mean by state. The -only state of Massachusetts I ever heard of is in -America."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Isn't this America?"</p> - -<p>This question so far transcended, in foolishness, all -its predecessors that her fears returned. She made -no reply. What traveler, in his senses, could be so -far astray? Was he a wandering lunatic escaped from -his keepers, preferring darkness to light? Or was he -merely amusing himself at her expense? As she recalled -the lateness of the hour, and his strange appearance -on the scene, her fears once more returned. Her -impulse was to stand up, turn about and see if her -uncle was in sight. But she dared not stir. Such action -might offend him. For lunatics are often sensitive, -and easily enraged. The figure in the gloom, however, -came no nearer, but remained at a proper distance. -When next he spoke it was slowly, and yet -more earnestly. And the girl knew from his manner -as well as from his words that he suspected the impression -he was making.</p> - -<p>"I don't blame you, madam, for whatever thoughts -you may have. I have traveled so fast and so far that -I am really dazed. But if you will kindly tell me -where we are, in what country, state, province or territory,—anything—it -will be doing me a great -service."</p> - -<p>In a constrained voice, and in a tone which made -it reasonably clear that this conversation was affording -her little pleasure, she replied:</p> - -<p>"We are near the city of Worcester, in England."</p> - -<p>For a moment he stood in silence. Then, with a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> -certain weariness in his voice, "Thank you. I hope -you will pardon my disturbing you."</p> - -<p>"Certainly."</p> - -<p>Again he moved away.</p> - -<p>This man's voice stirred memories. But these -memories—of some far-away past—were dim and -elusive. Vainly she tried to recall either when or -where she had known the voice. Just as he was turning -from the bar of light to disappear into the outer -gloom, there came to her a gleam of memory from -the distant past. Quickly she stood up in the car, her -lips parted to call aloud. But she hesitated. A mistake, -under present conditions, might prove more than -awkward. So she uttered no sound. The stranger, -however, as if responding to the unuttered words—to -the thought itself—turned about and came toward -the car. He walked quickly, but with the same unsteadiness -as when he first appeared; and always with -a hand before his eyes to shut out the blinding glare -of the headlight. When alongside the car, again invisible -in the darkness, he said:</p> - -<p>"Yes, I am Drowsy. Who calls me?"</p> - -<p>She was startled as she realized, in a kind of terror, -that the unspoken message must have reached him. -However, she answered, simply:</p> - -<p>"Ruth Heywood."</p> - -<p>With an exclamation of surprise and joy he opened -the door, climbed in and seated himself beside her.</p> - -<p>"Oh, this is too good!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span></p> - -<p>In the darkness he groped about and they managed -to shake hands.</p> - -<p>"Why, Ruth, this is hard to believe!"</p> - -<p>It was, indeed! Many questions were asked, and -answered. And they talked of earlier days at Longfields, -of Longfields people, of what sort of men and -women their playmates had become. More than all -else, they talked of their old friendship and their various -adventures together. And both laughed in recalling -how Ruth in that distant period was mother, sister, -aunt, governess and best girl to Cyrus. This revival -of the old intimacy had reached a stage where -the enshrouding darkness was almost forgotten.</p> - -<p>"But tell me, Drowsy," she demanded, "how came -you here and why did you ask all those crazy questions? -I should be sorry to think you had been dining -too well."</p> - -<p>"Dining too well! No, my wabbly course just now -was owing, partly, to not having dined at all:—and -with neither lunch nor breakfast either."</p> - -<p>"You poor thing! Then why pretend you didn't -know you were in England?"</p> - -<p>"There was no pretending. I really didn't know until -you told me."</p> - -<p>"Indeed! And where did you think yourself? In -Australia?"</p> - -<p>"I had no idea. If you had told me I was in Australia -I should have believed you. I have been traveling -so high above the earth that the upper ether went -to my head—and legs."</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a id="Fig_7"></a> - <img src="images/i_206.jpg" alt="" /> - <p class="caption">"——FAR AND FAST, EVEN FOR A BIRD MAN"<span class="no-break">—<i>Page 181</i></span></p> -</div> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span></p> - -<p>"You must have been fast and far, even for a bird -man, if you didn't know on which side of the ocean -you had landed."</p> - -<p>There was a silence:—a silence of doubt and of -budding suspicion in the woman's mind.</p> - -<p>"Listen, Ruth. I <i>have</i> been far and fast, even for -a bird man. I will tell you all about it later, if you -don't mind. If I told you now, you would think me -crazier, if possible, than when I asked those questions. -And I shouldn't blame you. My story would -seem as fantastic as if I had been around the world -in a night, or to another planet. What I have done—where -I have been is—is—so impossible that you -would be a very credulous person to believe it. But -later I will tell you all—everything—please consider -me in my right mind."</p> - -<p>"In your right mind! Why, Drowsy, you were -never in your right mind! So I should believe anything -you told me—unless it was something easy or -natural, like other people. You were always doing impossible -things and thinking impossible thoughts—a -most disturbing boy. I remember I always felt responsible -for you. You wanted the moon—even then."</p> - -<p>"And now, a full-fledged lunatic, I have just come -from the moon!"</p> - -<p>"I have no doubt you think so. And you were -always reaching up to pick a star. Yes, you <i>were</i> a -trial."</p> - -<p>Cyrus laughed. "Will you do me a favor?"</p> - -<p>"Depends on what it is."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Just a little one?"</p> - -<p>"Probably not. But what is it?"</p> - -<p>"You remember our wedding at the Unitarian -Church, away back in that enchanted past?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"Well, just consider that ceremony binding."</p> - -<p>"Now you are getting crazy again."</p> - -<p>"No, I was never saner."</p> - -<p>"Very likely, but you are crazy now. Why, Drowsy, -being only a man, you don't realize how lucky we -are that it was not binding!"</p> - -<p>"Lucky for you, perhaps," said Cyrus, "but not for -me. I am sure you are even more desirable, more -beautiful, more generally perfect and irresistible—if -possible—than you were then."</p> - -<p>"On the contrary. If you could see me by daylight -you would shout for joy at your escape."</p> - -<p>"No, Ruth, you can't fool me that way. Are you -little or big?"</p> - -<p>He groped about and laid a hand on her shoulder. -"I should say you were little."</p> - -<p>She pushed away the hand. "Keep your hands to -yourself, Cyrus. You forget we are no longer -children."</p> - -<p>Cyrus obeyed. "True enough. But we were really -married, you know. Surely a husband may touch his -wife's shoulder. Tell me, have you the same wonder-working -eyes and mouth and haughty bearing? You -are not a great big woman, I have discovered that."</p> - -<p>"No, I am neither big nor lovely. I am little and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> -dried up—and wrinkled, like a baked apple—and surprisingly -ugly."</p> - -<p>"Dried up at your age? May I touch your face just -a little?"</p> - -<p>"You may not!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, well, it doesn't matter. There's charm in baked -apples. There's character in a dried-up face."</p> - -<p>"But that was only the beginning. As I dried and -shriveled, my hair fell out."</p> - -<p>"Good! I love a bald head—especially in a woman. -There's no distinction in hair. All animals have it. -In that delectable period of sudden marriages, I remember -some things clearly, as if yesterday. I recall -distinctly the eyes of my bride. No man could forget -them. In their fathomless depths even a boy could -lose himself. And, oh, so beautiful! One such eye -would transform a dried apple face into a thing of -joy. And in that bride's face were two of them. -Don't tell me they, also, are gone."</p> - -<p>"Only one."</p> - -<p>"Too bad! Have you lost any limbs?"</p> - -<p>"Not yet."</p> - -<p>"And your teeth are gone?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, long, long ago."</p> - -<p>There was a silence. So black was the enveloping -darkness that the silence itself seemed heavy, as if -forbidding conversation.</p> - -<p>At last Cyrus spoke. "So far as I can learn, your -face is like a baked apple, your teeth and one eye are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> -gone, and you have no hair. But I'll take you as -you are."</p> - -<p>Ruth laughed. "Why, Cyrus! That's practically -an offer of marriage! You appear even wilder and -more reckless than when you were trying to discover -whether you were in England or Massachusetts."</p> - -<p>"On the contrary, I am wiser than you think. I -was in love with you in Longfields—and I am finding -now that neither time nor absence have changed that -feeling. What's a tooth, an eye, or a few hairs more -or less to an honest lover?"</p> - -<p>"Honest humbug! You forget how well I knew -you. You had no respect for truth."</p> - -<p>"Yes, but only as a child. I am telling the truth -now, on my honor. Let's not separate again. Why, -it's beginning a new life! Come. Let's go back to -the Unitarian Church and be married just once more. -Only once more; that's all I ask."</p> - -<p>"Indeed I shall not! I am not buying a pig in a -poke. When daylight came and I really saw you I -might be sick with horror."</p> - -<p>"No, no! I'm not so bad as that! In fact I look -about as I did when a boy, only—more beautiful."</p> - -<p>"Then you are a funny looking man, Drowsy, with -your sleepy eyes and your little buttoned-up mouth."</p> - -<p>Cyrus laughed. "No, I swear I'm not funny looking. -I have the same eyes, but my mouth is three -times as long. It's one of the largest and most admired -mouths in Massachusetts. But why these questions? -You saw me a few minutes ago when I came<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> -along. The glare of those headlights ought to illuminate -any kind of a face."</p> - -<p>"You held your hand before your face to shade your -eyes."</p> - -<p>"So I did. But, seriously, Ruthy, I realize now that -all my old feeling for you has never died. Your voice -alone revives the memories of those pleasant years. -Why part again? It might be forever."</p> - -<p>"A thousand reasons."</p> - -<p>"But no good ones. What better test of my affection -could you want? I don't ask to see your face. -Your voice, your words, yourself, and old-time memories -are more than enough. Come. Say yes."</p> - -<p>"No. Never in the world! Suppose, when you -could really see me, there came regrets. What a position -for a woman! Oh, no! Never that!"</p> - -<p>"Don't say 'never.'"</p> - -<p>"Is this a habit of yours—making love in the dark -to women you don't know? You should have a guardian."</p> - -<p>"Be that guardian!"</p> - -<p>"Thank you, I have other occupations."</p> - -<p>Here came a silence. The thoughts of Cyrus, whatever -they might be, were interrupted by Ruth:</p> - -<p>"You must think me a most adaptable woman, -Cyrus, to fall in love, at a minute's notice, with a voice -and a memory."</p> - -<p>"If you are a toothless, hairless, wrinkled, one-eyed -hag you ought to be grateful."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span></p> - -<p>"A toothless hag, even with no pride—may have a -little caution."</p> - -<p>"Anyway," said Cyrus, and he spoke more seriously—and -with more decision—"I am in earnest. I may -be talking like a fool—I don't know how to express -myself. Meeting you again is like a new life. As a -little girl, Ruthy, you were everything to me. You -don't know what a difference, what a void it made -when you vanished and left me adrift. Now that we -are again together, and I am older, I realize what I -lost. After you left Longfields—and your leaving -was awfully sudden, if you remember—not even a -chance to say good-by—I used to sit on your doorstep -and try to think you would come out."</p> - -<p>"Is that true?"</p> - -<p>"On my honor. And one moonlight night when -father and Joanna thought I was in bed I stood at -my window and tried to get a message to you, in the -old way—hoping a thought would reach you. Then -I stole out of the house, ran to yours and threw little -stones against the closed shutters of your empty chamber. -Of course no answer came. But I waited and -waited. The moonlight seemed to encourage me. And -when I had waited in vain—a very long time,—it -seemed a year—I pretended you came to the window -and we had a long talk."</p> - -<p>She laughed. "And what did I say?"</p> - -<p>"You said just what I wanted you to say: the nicest -things; the things I was yearning for. Quite different -from what you are saying to-night."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span></p> - -<p>"If you thought of me so much, why didn't you -write to me?"</p> - -<p>"I did. I wrote twice."</p> - -<p>"I never got them."</p> - -<p>"I will tell you why you never got them if you will -promise not to laugh."</p> - -<p>"I promise."</p> - -<p>"They were directed simply to Miss Ruth Heywood, -China. And China, I have learned since, is a larger -place than Longfields."</p> - -<p>"Oh, you poor boy!"</p> - -<p>"And when I was a freshman at Cambridge, I tried -hard to fall in love with a girl because she reminded -me of you."</p> - -<p>Ruth was silent. Cyrus went on. "When you first -spoke here, a few minutes ago, your voice affected me -in a way—in a way I can't describe. It seemed to open -vistas of memory, as in a fairy tale. And the instant -I realized that we were again together—why—it all -came back with a rush—as of sunshine—like a wave, -or a flood of unexpected happiness—and hope."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Drowsy, what charming nonsense!"</p> - -<p>"Yes—it is nonsense, if that kind of love is nonsense—the -kind that begins in boyhood and never dies—that -holds to one woman and will have no other."</p> - -<p>He felt a hand on his arm. In her voice came a -gentler note. "Listen, Drowsy. My uncle and I are -on our way to a train. I am starting for Italy. When -I know my permanent address I will—perhaps—see -that you get it—indirectly, but not from me. Then,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> -without committing either of us, if you are still as -blind, as reckless and perverse as you are to-night, -you can——"</p> - -<p>"Still alive, Ruth?"</p> - -<p>The voice came from the darkness and was close behind -them.</p> - -<p>Cyrus was presented as an old friend. He assisted -the uncle in pouring the gasoline into the tank. The -uncle was in haste to get away, still hoping to catch -a train. There were a few words of parting before -the motor with its two occupants slid away into the -darkness.</p> - -<p>This parting, to Cyrus, seemed even more sudden -than the old one, long years ago.</p> - -<p>For many minutes he stood looking in their direction. -The night was black, and he saw nothing. But -in his heart was a rosy dawn.</p> - -<p>Incidentally, but of far less importance, he knew -on what portion of the earth he had landed.</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_216.png" alt="Chapter XII image" /> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XII - -<span class="ch">"INCREDIBLE!"</span></h2> - -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="uppercase">A prosperous</span>, self-reliant man, well built, -well dressed and well pleased with himself, sat -at a desk in his private office. It was the -senior partner of the firm—a well known firm of Fifth -Avenue jewelers. Being a wise man, he was wise -enough to enjoy a reasonable pride in his own wisdom; -also in his own pleasing personality, and in his own -good face and figure. Now, sixty years of age, he -had, moreover, enjoyed a quarter century of success—the -reward, perhaps, of his own foresight in being the -son of a prosperous father. He had inherited a well -established business. As a leading member of a fashionable -church he was grateful to himself, and to his -Creator, for these, his many blessings.</p> - -<p>Another well-dressed man—but younger than himself—entered -abruptly and stood beside his desk. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> -Senior Partner looked up from his work, nodded, and -smiled.</p> - -<p>"Good morning, William."</p> - -<p>"Good morning, Uncle Fred."</p> - -<p>William was dapper, even more up-to-date in appearance -than his uncle. Although more carefully -attired, he was not so well dressed. For William's -hair was so very smooth, and all that pertained to him -so aggressively fresh and clean, his clothes so faultlessly -in fit, his cravat, his scarf pin, his hair and his -eyes such a pleasing harmony in shade and color as -to divert the beholder's attention from his sensible -face. In appearance William was unjust to himself, -giving the impression, to strangers, of a vain or frivolous -person. He was, on the contrary, a very intelligent -man. Also, he was good. At the present moment -there were signs of suppressed excitement in this -cleanest of clean faces.</p> - -<p>"Well," said the Senior Partner, "out with it."</p> - -<p>"You remember Cyrus Alton, don't you, Uncle -Fred?"</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>"Well, you met him some years ago. It was he who -saved me from breaking my neck in the amateur circus -at school."</p> - -<p>"Oh! And he has regretted it ever since?"</p> - -<p>William smiled. "No, sir. I hope not. But it was -a mighty plucky thing to do. I fell from the trapeze -and he was on the ground beneath. When he saw me -coming, instead of jumping from under, like a sensible<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> -boy, he held out his arm to break the fall. It -threw his shoulder out of joint, but saved me a broken -neck—so we all thought."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I remember now. It <i>was</i> a plucky thing. It -showed courage and presence of mind. How old was -he?"</p> - -<p>"About my age: twelve, I guess, or thirteen."</p> - -<p>"He certainly played the hero on that day. Has he -lived up to it?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know. I have hardly seen him since we -left school. I always liked him. We were great -cronies—always together."</p> - -<p>"Mighty lucky you were together on that occasion. -What's his occupation, now?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, chemistry and electricity. Science generally, -I guess. But I don't think the world has been treating -him well. His clothes are kind of ancient, and he looks -hard up. He lives up in Massachusetts, in some little -town or village. It's a dozen years since I have seen -him, until he came in, a few minutes ago, with a -curious kind of stone. He doesn't know what it is, -and wants to find out. Wants us to tell him. It's beyond -me, though. Would you mind seeing him just a -minute, and looking at it?"</p> - -<p>"A stone, did you say?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir."</p> - -<p>"What kind of a stone?"</p> - -<p>"That's just what he doesn't know, nor I either."</p> - -<p>"All right, show him in."</p> - -<p>To the hero of the amateur circus came a cordial<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> -greeting from the Senior Partner, who alluded in a -most friendly manner to that historic occasion. But -were he not familiar with the story he would have -found difficulty in recognizing the present visitor as -the hero of such a day. For that was a deed requiring—to -say nothing of courage—quick decision, quick -action and that perfect confidence in physical strength -which we attribute to the trained athlete. These wide-awake -qualities were not suggested in any degree by -the slow moving, sleepy eyed young man of slender -figure to whom Hurry seemed a stranger. This man -was a dreamer. But the Senior Partner had perhaps -forgotten that the brightest pages of human history -have been furnished by dreamers stirred to action. -Moreover, it was clearly evident that this young man -and Prosperity were not on friendly terms. And the -dark color beneath his eyes seemed to indicate loss of -sleep or nervous strain. Now the Senior Partner had -never been in love with Poverty. He had the same -sort of sympathy for it that Virtue has for Vice; or -that Cleanliness has for Dirt. But he was determined, -on William's account, to treat his old friend with -proper consideration.</p> - -<p>After a short conversation, retrospective and educational, -the visitor laid in the hand of the Senior Partner -what appeared to be a large glass door-knob. It -was octagonal in shape with a convex top, and was -broken at the stem. The color was a pale, apple green. -The Senior Partner adjusted his glasses and politely -examined it. He examined it with the same tactful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> -consideration he would show to any well meaning person -who believes his imitation pearl a priceless gem. -This case, however, was certainly unusual. The man -who could hand you a very large glass door knob and -ask your opinion on it, as an expert in gems, required -special treatment. And when the Senior Partner -studied the visitor's face for some outward indications -of the amazing credulity within, he searched in vain. -Instead of the eager eyes and parted lips of a touch-and-go -enthusiast hoping for sudden wealth, he encountered -a firm, though boyish mouth, and two calm, -dark, almost drowsy eyes that met his own with a -tranquil sanity, having no relation, apparently, to their -owner's misguided errand. However, the Senior Partner -knew from experience that exteriors were deceptive.</p> - -<p>While hesitating for words that might reveal, in the -gentlest manner, the fact that the object was worthless, -his nephew spoke, and in a tone of eager curiosity.</p> - -<p>"What is it, Uncle Fred? What can it be?"</p> - -<p>"That's hard to say. It is rather large for a door -knob, or the stopper of any human decanter. It -might be the pendant of a chandelier."</p> - -<p>"I mean what is it made of? What is the material?"</p> - -<p>"You mean what kind of glass?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir; if it—if it <i>is</i> glass."</p> - -<p>"Then you think it is not glass?"</p> - -<p>"That's what we want to find out."</p> - -<p>This uncle was not misled by his nephew's earnestness. -He knew William, and he knew him to be a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> -ready believer in interesting things; one who could pin -his faith on whatever he really wished to believe. And -the uncle had learned that this capacity, combined with -a lively imagination, became a perilous guide in matters -of business. However, he held the object higher, -between his eyes and the window.</p> - -<p>"You think it might be rock crystal?" Then, turning -to the visitor, "What is your own opinion, Mr. -Alton?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, I have no opinion; only hopes."</p> - -<p>"And what are your hopes?"</p> - -<p>Now Cyrus Alton had easily divined the Senior -Partner's thoughts. "Hope is so inexpensive," he answered, -"that I have been indulging in the brightest -kind. But if I am flying too high I can easily come -to earth again. Is it nothing but glass, after all?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, I don't say that."</p> - -<p>But the Senior Partner still marveled that any educated -person should prove so gullible as to be deceived -by this object in his hand. He looked again, and more -carefully, at the visitor's face. This time the boyish -mouth seemed to indicate nothing but inexperience. -The heavy lidded eyes, however, calmly returned the -searching gaze, as if they themselves were searching;—yet -in a sleepy way, it seemed to the Senior Partner. -And the Senior Partner was strengthened in his conviction -that a man with those eyes and with such a -mouth could believe almost anything. Yet he liked -the young man's face. His voice was pleasant, and -his manner of speech, while punctiliously polite and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> -considerate of others, indicated decision and self-reliance.</p> - -<p>"But, Uncle Fred," said William, "it is so heavy for -its size. And it's cold, like a diamond. And it has -that oily feeling on the polished face. It surely is -not an artificial stone."</p> - -<p>"No, possibly not. But the color, this pale, apple -green, while an exquisite tint, is not usual in diamonds."</p> - -<p>"But the famous 'Dresden' is that color, isn't it?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I believe so; but the famous 'Dresden' is -smaller than a paving stone. This object, as you see, -if a natural stone, must have been nearly twice its -present dimensions before cutting. And even now it -is fully twice the size of any diamond of which we -have ever heard. You young gentlemen will admit -that it must be the house of an exceedingly prosperous -person where bulky door knobs were composed of -single diamonds."</p> - -<p>Nephew William frowned and drummed with his -fingers on the top of the desk.</p> - -<p>"And I doubt," continued the Senior Partner with -his pleasant smile, "if there are many mines that yield -jewels the size of ostrich eggs."</p> - -<p>Cyrus Alton's eyes, in a dreamy way, were fixed upon -the stone. "Couldn't this have come from some -other planet?"</p> - -<p>"Possibly, as a meteorite. But precious stones have -not the habit of coming from that direction. However,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> -nothing concerning astronomy can surprise us. -Might I ask where you found it, Mr. Alton?"</p> - -<p>Mr. Alton hesitated. As he drew a hand across his -forehead the Senior Partner and his nephew noticed -a hole in the faded and shiny coat sleeve; also that the -linen cuff with its frayed edges had no fastenings. -William's silent guess was correct. "The poor chap -has had to sell his cuff buttons."</p> - -<p>"If you don't mind, sir, I would rather not answer -that question just at present."</p> - -<p>"Certainly. Of course not! Excuse my asking."</p> - -<p>"I am the one to apologize, sir. It is a most natural -question, and I will answer it later."</p> - -<p>"Of course, Mr. Alton, you understand my asking -that question. The answer might give us light that -would solve the riddle. If, for instance, you found it -among broken fragments in a glass factory, we might -be prejudiced regarding its ancestry."</p> - -<p>"No. It was many miles from any factory."</p> - -<p>"On the other hand, if unearthed in a diamond mine, -or discovered on the forehead of a Hindoo god it's -claim to distinction would be more clearly defined."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I suppose so. But I thought an expert might -judge the value of a stone without knowing its -history."</p> - -<p>"Certainly, certainly. But sometimes a ray of light -on a doubtful subject facilitates a decision. If this -majestic door knob, fragment of a balustrade, pendant -to a chandelier, or whatever its original purpose—if -this object is a diamond, Mr. Alton, it means a fortune<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> -to its owner. And I sincerely wish it were a -diamond."</p> - -<p>"But you know it isn't?"</p> - -<p>"I don't say that; but no lapidary would ever cut a -diamond as this is cut." Then, with a friendly smile -as he handed it back to its owner, "If William here, -or anybody else should offer you real money for -it——"</p> - -<p>"You advise me to take it."</p> - -<p>The Senior Partner smiled and nodded. Cyrus -Alton rose. "I thank you sincerely, sir, for this interview -and for your opinion on my bogus gem." The -Senior Partner also rose, and in shaking hands laid his -other hand on the visitor's shoulder. "It may console -you, Mr. Alton, to know that you are not the first -person—nor the hundredth, for that matter—to be -undeceived here in this office. The brightest hopes, -especially with would-be pearls and diamonds, often -vanish even more swiftly than they come."</p> - -<p>While the smiling, leisurely mouth of Cyrus was -getting ready to reply, a door opened, and a man entered. -It was a short, stout man with fierce black -eyebrows, black eyes and a heavy black beard, all in -striking contrast to the whitest and baldest of heads.</p> - -<p>"Ah, Mr. Bressani!" exclaimed the Senior Partner. -"You are just the man!" After presenting Mr. Bressani -to the visitor he said: "Give us the truth about -this stone. What is it?" And he took the stone from -Cyrus and handed it to the new arrival.</p> - -<p>Now Mr. Bressani was more than an expert. His<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> -instinct in the matter of gems was abnormal. It was -something more than instinct. It was a singular, innate -sense; one of those unexplained faculties that enables -its possessor to judge offhand, with certainty and -precision, where others must weigh and reason. In -important matters he was sought by jewelers. And -there was no recorded case in which he had been -deceived.</p> - -<p>Now, as he held the doubtful object in his fat, white -fingers, he suspected from the smile on the face of the -Senior Partner that a joke was in the air. When he -saw what was in his hand—apparently a piece of -greenish glass—he raised his heavy black eyebrows, -and, with a sidelong glance, studied the faces of the -three men, one after another, to make sure they were -not laughing at him. Nephew William smiled but -shook his head. "No, we are serious. Tell us what -you think."</p> - -<p>Still doubtful, Mr. Bressani held it nearer his eye, -turned it over in his large, baby fingers, moved it -slowly up and down, evidently guessing its weight, and -slowly passed a thumb over its surface. Then, as if -surprised, he stepped hastily to the window and held it -between his eyes and the light. Wheeling about, his -eyebrows darted up in surprise. These eyebrows, thick -and heavy, flew heavenward so swiftly and they -traveled so far that they seemed to pull upon his big -black eyes to twice their usual size and roundness. -These astonished orbs he rolled toward the three men -as if startled by a miracle. They proclaimed a bewildering, - - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> - -overwhelming astonishment that his half-open -lips could not express.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a id="Fig_8"></a> - <img src="images/i_226.jpg" alt="" /> - <p class="caption">"BUT WHO EVER SAW SUCH A DIAMOND?"<span class="no-break">—<i>Page 199</i></span></p> -</div> - -<p>"Why, it's a diamond!"</p> - -<p>The Senior Partner rose and moved toward him. -"Are you sure?"</p> - -<p>But Mr. Bressani did not reply. Lost in wonder, -apparently unconscious of his surroundings, he turned -the object over and over, in every light, and at every -angle. "Extraordinary!" he murmured. "Extraordinary! -It doesn't seem possible."</p> - -<p>"But are you sure?" repeated the Senior Partner.</p> - -<p>"Absolutely."</p> - -<p>"But who ever saw such a diamond?"</p> - -<p>"Nobody! Nobody! It's incredible—miraculous—inconceivable. -There never <i>was</i> such a thing!"</p> - -<p>"Just what I have been saying," from the Senior -Partner. "Nobody would ever cut a diamond in that -shape. And look at the size of it! And the color!"</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes! It's hard to believe!"</p> - -<p>"But you <i>do</i> believe it?"</p> - -<p>The bushy eyebrows went up, then down, with a -shrug of shoulders. "Believe it? I know it! What -do <i>you</i> think it is, glass?"</p> - -<p>"Well—er—yes, to be honest. I didn't know what -else it could be. No human being ever saw a diamond -of those dimensions."</p> - -<p>"We are seeing it now. But whose is it?"</p> - -<p>"It belongs to Mr. Alton."</p> - -<p>"I congratulate you, Mr. Alton. You possess the -most amazing diamond in history or fiction."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span></p> - -<p>Cyrus bowed. "Then it is the largest you have ever -seen?"</p> - -<p>"Twice over. The famous Cullinan stone, the -largest yet discovered, was about half this size."</p> - -<p>"Let's weigh it," said William.</p> - -<p>The expert placed it on the little scales that stood -on the top of the Senior Partner's desk. The three -men waited in silence for the verdict. After a close -scrutiny of the scales Mr. Bressani straightened up, -turned toward the three pairs of eyes—all fixed intently -on his own—and exclaimed:</p> - -<p>"Really—it is hard to believe!"</p> - -<p>"How much?" came, in the same breath, from the -Senior Partner and his nephew.</p> - -<p>"Seventy-one hundred carats!"</p> - -<p>The nephew laughed nervously. "Why—there -never was such a diamond!"</p> - -<p>The Senior Partner frowned. "Impossible!"</p> - -<p>Mr. Bressani's hand trembled slightly, as he lifted -the stone from the scales and again held it to the light. -"Yes—yes—it does seem impossible!"</p> - -<p>"But nobody ever saw such a diamond!" was again -announced by William.</p> - -<p>"Never!" from Mr. Bressani.</p> - -<p>"How much did the Cullinan weigh?" William -asked.</p> - -<p>"About three thousand and thirty carats in the -rough—about a pound and three-quarters. It was -cut into three large stones and several smaller ones.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> -Two of these stones are the largest brilliants in existence."</p> - -<p>"But, are you sure, Bressani," said the Senior -Partner, "absolutely sure that it <i>is</i> a diamond?"</p> - -<p>Mr. Bressani smiled, shrugged his shoulders, and -with a gesture of both hands, palms out, replied, -slowly:</p> - -<p>"I am not a rich man, but whatever property I -possess, and whatever I can borrow up to a million -dollars I would gladly give to Mr. Alton if I might -own this stone."</p> - -<p>Cyrus Alton's eyes opened wider. "A million -dollars?"</p> - -<p>"Easily. You see, it will cut to four or five stones -of extraordinary size, and—unless I am much mistaken—of -perfect purity. Also, the color—this lovely, -delicate, apple-green tint is almost unknown. The only -diamond of this color in the world, of any importance, -is the famous Dresden Green, one of the crown jewels -of Saxony."</p> - -<p>"Is this much larger," inquired Cyrus, "than that -Dresden diamond?"</p> - -<p>"Many times larger."</p> - -<p>"And much larger than any of the famous diamonds?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, indeed! Much, much, very much larger. No -comparison, in fact. Why, Mr. Alton, if this were -cut to one stone, half its present size—as a rough -guess—it would be over three thousand carats."</p> - -<p>Nephew William gasped. "Three thousand carats!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> -Why, there's nothing like it! It would be the most -famous stone in the world!"</p> - -<p>"No doubt about that," said Mr. Bressani.</p> - -<p>"How much is the Great Mogul?" asked William.</p> - -<p>"Less than two hundred carats."</p> - -<p>"And the Koh-i-noor?"</p> - -<p>"One hundred and eight."</p> - -<p>"And the Star of the South?"</p> - -<p>"About a hundred and twenty-seven carats."</p> - -<p>"Did you ever see the Hope diamond?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; forty-five carats. Almost circular in shape; -sold for eighteen thousand pounds. But it is believed—at -least there is a story—that it brings bad luck to -its owners."</p> - -<p>"It is blue, isn't it?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, blue, and a good color, but not so beautiful -nor so rare, as this shade of green. This is a wonder." -And as he spoke he turned the stone in every light. -"It's a marvelous thing. Marvelous! Almost unbelievable!"</p> - -<p>"Can you tell me," said Cyrus, "about how much it -is worth?"</p> - -<p>Mr. Bressani shrugged his shoulders: "Anything."</p> - -<p>"You mean," said the Senior Partner, "it would be -impossible to guess, even approximately, at its value?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. For you know the value of diamonds is -speculative—depending on many conditions; size, -shape, purity, color—and how they cut. The Victoria—one -hundred and eighty carats—was sold for four -hundred thousand pounds. But diamonds were rarer<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> -then. This, when properly cut into the right number -of stones, would bring more than three million dollars."</p> - -<p>William, in his enthusiasm, slapped his friend on the -back. "Well, old man, you have struck it rich this -time."</p> - -<p>The calm-eyed Cyrus smiled and nodded.</p> - -<p>"Then this diamond of mine," he said, "would be -ten times bigger than the Koh-i-noor or any of those -other stones?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir."</p> - -<p>"Isn't there a famous Sancy diamond?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes. But that weighed only fifty-three carats. -The Sancy diamond was famous more from its unusual -history than from its size."</p> - -<p>"What was its history, Bressani?" said the Senior -Partner. "I never heard it."</p> - -<p>"Well, it belonged to Charles the Bold, Duke of -Burgundy, who was wearing it in his hat at the battle -of Nancy, the day he was killed. A Swiss soldier -found it and sold it to a clergyman for a gulden; about -forty cents. Then it came into possession of Anton, -King of Portugal, who sold it for 100,000 Francs. -Soon afterwards it became the property of a French -gentleman named Sancy. A descendant of this Sancy -was sent by Henry III as ambassador to Soluere and -the King required the diamond as a pledge. The servant -who was carrying it to the King was attacked by -robbers and murdered, but before dying he swallowed -the diamond. His master, knowing his devotion, had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> -the body opened and found the diamond in his stomach."</p> - -<p>"And where is it now?" asked Cyrus.</p> - -<p>"It was bought by a Russian nobleman in 1835, for -half a million rubles; about four hundred thousand -dollars."</p> - -<p>"Jove!" exclaimed William. "Some difference in -price between forty cents and four hundred thousand -dollars!"</p> - -<p>"And how much bigger," asked William, "is this -than the Sancy?"</p> - -<p>"That weighed fifty-three carats. This, when cut, -would weigh about three thousand."</p> - -<p>"Jove! Sixty times as much! Would it be worth -sixty times four hundred thousand dollars? That -would be about twenty-four million dollars."</p> - -<p>Mr. Bressani smiled and shook his head. "Times -were different then—and to-day there are more diamonds."</p> - -<p>"I suppose many of the famous jewels," said William, -"if they could speak, might tell us stories as surprising -as the Sancy's."</p> - -<p>Then Cyrus Alton, in a low voice, addressing nobody -in particular, said: "It would be worth the price -of this diamond to know its history."</p> - -<p>The Bressani eyebrows went up—high up—and -then far down. And beneath the frown the fierce eyes -looked eagerly toward the speaker. "Has it a remarkable -history, Mr. Alton?"</p> - -<p>Cyrus smiled, slowly and somewhat sadly, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> -gently shook his head. "I wish I knew. I would -almost give the diamond's price to know its story—much -as I need the money."</p> - -<p>"Do you know nothing of its history?"</p> - -<p>"Nothing. I only know that if we could see what -that stone has seen we should enter a new field of -knowledge. It would throw light upon a world of unknown -things, earlier than human history."</p> - -<p>In silence the jewelers regarded the speaker, as if -waiting for some explanation of his words.</p> - -<p>Mr. Bressani's eyebrows had shot up to the highest -attitude yet attained. In a low voice, but in a tone -that showed the liveliest curiosity, he asked, "Just -what do you mean, Mr. Alton?"</p> - -<p>"I mean the story of this diamond's country would -be a story so overwhelming, so far beyond us, so complete -and final in its stupendous tragedy that our own -human drama would seem a trifling comedy."</p> - -<p>These words were spoken in a calm but earnest manner, -and they impressed the listeners. A silence followed. -Then Mr. Bressani asked: "What <i>is</i> this -diamond's country?"</p> - -<p>Cyrus hesitated. He knew that if he told the truth -it would appear incredible to his hearers—like a fairy -tale for children: that he would be regarded either as -a fool, to be pitied, or as a willful liar. While he hesitated -the Senior Partner came to his rescue.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Alton has already informed us that he has reasons -for not telling where he found it."</p> - -<p>Mr. Bressani's enthusiasm, however,—and his curiosity—were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> -far too strong for accepting so easy a -defeat. "But what part of the world? He can tell us -that."</p> - -<p>"As a matter of fact," said Cyrus, "I don't know, -myself, the name of that particular country."</p> - -<p>Again the bushy Bressani eyebrows sailed aloft, then -dropped and beetled over the fierce black eyes. "You -don't know in what country you were when you found -it—or bought it?"</p> - -<p>"I am not sure that it has a name."</p> - -<p>"A most unusual country!"</p> - -<p>"Yes, it certainly is;—most unusual."</p> - -<p>Nephew William laughed. "And it must be a long -way off, Cyrus."</p> - -<p>"It is."</p> - -<p>"And pretty small, if it has no name."</p> - -<p>"No, not so small. But its name was long ago forgotten. -There are no survivors to remember it."</p> - -<p>"But you can tell us," said Mr. Bressani, "whether -it is North of here, or East, or West, or South."</p> - -<p>"Why—er—really, I couldn't tell you even that. -Nobody could."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps it's beneath us, or above"; and in the -Senior Partner's tone was a suggestion of irony.</p> - -<p>Cyrus ignored the tone and answered pleasantly: "I -am not trying to deceive, or to mislead you in any way, -but it really is a journey in which points of the compass -are no guides whatever."</p> - -<p>On the faces of the three jewelers came three involuntary -frowns.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a id="Fig_9"></a> - <img src="images/i_236.jpg" alt="" /> - <p class="caption">"A MOST UNUSUAL COUNTRY!"<span class="no-break">—<i>Page 206</i></span></p> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span></p> - -<p>"You are certainly having fun with us, Cyrus," said -William.</p> - -<p>"No, not at all. But, you see, a compass would be -useless where there is no such thing as North and -South."</p> - -<p>"No such thing as North and South!"</p> - -<p>"No. Nor East and West. The needle would lose -its bearings. It wouldn't know where to point."</p> - -<p>"Oh, come now! Is that a joke? Are we to laugh -at it?"</p> - -<p>Cyrus smiled. "I should not blame you for laughing—but -it is not a joke. I am telling the truth."</p> - -<p>"You mean to say, I suppose, that you had such -bad weather—electrical storms, perhaps,—that the -needle couldn't work."</p> - -<p>"No, there was no weather at all."</p> - -<p>"You mean no bad weather?"</p> - -<p>"Nor good weather, either."</p> - -<p>With some impatience William demanded: "Now -just what do you mean, Cyrus?"</p> - -<p>"I mean, that in going and coming, there was no -such thing as wind nor rain, nor sunshine. It was all -twilight—a dusk that was almost darkness. It was a -trackless, uncharted voyage. And not a shore to touch -at."</p> - -<p>"Then you crossed an ocean? It was all by sea?"</p> - -<p>"No. There was no sea—no water anywhere."</p> - -<p>This time William made no effort to hide his annoyance. -He merely whistled, and walked away, toward -the window.</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I don't blame you, Billy, for being enraged," and -Cyrus also stood up. "But on my honor, I am telling -you the truth. And I am willing to tell you anything -except the exact location. Later on you will understand -my reasons for being so secretive."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps you can tell us," said Mr. Bressani, "in -what surroundings you found it: whether under -ground or above."</p> - -<p>"Above. Just lying on the ground."</p> - -<p>"My own guess," said William, "from its being -already cut, is that some oriental chap either gave it -to you or sold it."</p> - -<p>"No, I found it, entirely by accident—among some -ruins."</p> - -<p>Mr. Bressani's eyebrows again went up. "Ruins -of what?"</p> - -<p>"Of an ancient building—a very, very ancient -building."</p> - -<p>"But covered with earth, I suppose, and overgrown -with vines."</p> - -<p>"No. Not a trace of vegetation anywhere in sight."</p> - -<p>"It must be a melancholy place."</p> - -<p>"It is."</p> - -<p>"But once a city?"</p> - -<p>"I think so."</p> - -<p>"The ruins of Palmyra!" exclaimed Mr. Bressani. -"They are now a sandy waste."</p> - -<p>"No; many thousands of miles from Palmyra."</p> - -<p>"Many thousands of miles! That means a long -distance."</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a id="Fig_10"></a> - <img src="images/i_240.jpg" alt="" /> - <p class="caption">"BUT ONCE A CITY?"<span class="no-break">—<i>Page 208</i></span></p> -</div> - - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span></p> - -<p>"It <i>is</i> a long distance."</p> - -<p>"Then it can't be any part of Asia, or even India?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir."</p> - -<p>"Africa, perhaps?"</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>"A South American diamond?"</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>As Mr. Bressani's ferocious, black eyebrows settled -down over his eyes the Senior Partner laughed. "This -reminds me of the game of twenty questions. And -you are surely the victor, Mr. Alton."</p> - -<p>But Mr. Bressani was too much in earnest to think -of jokes or games. "You say these ruins are very -old?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir."</p> - -<p>"How old? Greek or Roman, perhaps?"</p> - -<p>"Older than human history."</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a id="Fig_11"></a> - <img src="images/i_243.jpg" alt="" /> - <p class="caption">"OLDER THAN HUMAN HISTORY"<span class="no-break">—<i>Page 209</i></span></p> -</div> - -<p>Again the three listeners frowned. With a shade -of sarcasm the Senior Partner addressed his nephew: -"Mr. Alton has a poet's fancy."</p> - -<p>Cyrus understood, but his face showed no annoyance. -Smilingly he said, "You will get more digestible answers, -perhaps, if you don't ask me where I -found it. The whole adventure is incredible. If I -told you the truth you would not believe me."</p> - -<p>"Try us," said William.</p> - -<p>The Senior Partner waved his hand in apology. -"Please don't think we doubt your word, Mr. Alton. -But when you say older than human history you are -speaking figuratively, as it were."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span></p> - -<p>"No, sir. I am speaking literally. It is the belief -of scientists that millions of years have passed since -any changes have occurred in that—in that—territory."</p> - -<p>"Millions of years!"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir. It is somewhat a matter of geology. -And a geological period, you know, is still young at a -million years."</p> - -<p>The Senior Partner nodded politely. "Yes—very -true. But, as diamonds are found in so few places -perhaps you will tell us, just to gratify a natural curiosity, -what kind of a region you have discovered—the -general nature of the country."</p> - -<p>"The nature of the country?" Cyrus Alton repeated. -Then, lowering his eyes, as if better to recall the scene, -he hesitated for a moment. "The nature of the country," -he again repeated, and his manner became serious. -"No tree, nor bush, nor blade of grass is there; -no living thing of any kind: no birds—nor air to fly -in;—not a drop of water. The surface of the earth—no, -not earth for there is no earth—is stone—and -ashes. 'Tis a cinder—the mummy of a world: an -unending necropolis. Once it was thickly populated. -Now it is the Land of Death, and deader than Death -itself. Not even a memory is there, for those who -might remember have been dead uncounted ages. -They themselves are long since forgotten."</p> - -<p>On the faces of his little audience Cyrus saw a mild -bewilderment—and curiosity.</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span></p> - -<p>"You say we have all heard of this country?" asked -the Senior Partner.</p> - -<p>"Yes, and you have seen it—from a distance."</p> - -<p>"Are you sure," said William, "that we have all -seen it?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, absolutely sure."</p> - -<p>"And we have probably been there?"</p> - -<p>"No—I think not."</p> - -<p>"Then, how could we see it?—from a railway train—or -from a steamship?"</p> - -<p>Cyrus smiled. "Yes, you could see it that way—if -you wished."</p> - -<p>"But how do you know we have never been there?"</p> - -<p>"I don't."</p> - -<p>"You only think it."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I only think it. You may have been there. -I am quite sure, however, that you have not."</p> - -<p>"But why so sure, Cyrus? You have been there -yourself."</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"And what man has done man can do."</p> - -<p>"Yes, sometimes, but not always, Billy. Only one -man has eaten, for instance, a certain huckleberry. -And, as a rule, only one man marries his own particular -girl. You, for instance, have seen the top of -Trinity spire, but you have never been there."</p> - -<p>"You may as well say I have seen the moon, but -never been there."</p> - -<p>Cyrus laughed, quite a hearty little laugh, as if<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> -thoroughly amused. "Well I do say it. And it's true, -isn't it?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, but it has no relation to the argument."</p> - -<p>"Why not? I am merely proving my statement, -that you have seen interesting places which you have -never visited. Either Trinity spire or the moon might -hold this diamond."</p> - -<p>"But Trinity spire does not fit your description of -the country."</p> - -<p>Again Cyrus seemed amused. "But the moon fits -it."</p> - -<p>William laughed. "Well, Cyrus, you are just the -same boy in an argument that you were at school. -And how mad I used to get! But this mysterious land -that you are concealing so successfully, the land we -have all seen but never touched—or even heard about, -apparently—must be a God-forsaken district. Is it a -desert—like Sahara, for instance?"</p> - -<p>"No, quite different. This is rock, with plains of -lava from volcanic mountains and everywhere, in all -directions, dust and ashes: the dried bones of its own -past—whatever it was. The whole surface of the -country seems upheaved and torn, all on a gigantic -scale, as if it was baked too much, then split and -sundered in the cooling. A fantastic, solemn region."</p> - -<p>"Well, by Jove!" said William, at last, "I still maintain -that I have never seen the place—nor anything -like it."</p> - -<p>"I said from a distance."</p> - -<p>"Must have been a mighty long distance."</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a id="Fig_12"></a> - <img src="images/i_248.jpg" alt="" /> - <p class="caption">"——THE DRIED BONES OF ITS OWN PAST, WHATEVER IT WAS"<span class="no-break">—<i>Page 212</i></span></p> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span></p> - -<p>"It was."</p> - -<p>"And a mighty unusual country!"</p> - -<p>"It is. Scattered about are high mountains, once -volcanoes. And in the craters of these old volcanoes -some of them many miles across, I saw the ruins of -cities. There must be hundreds of these mountains, -and hundreds of ruined cities."</p> - -<p>"Then you traveled over the whole country."</p> - -<p>"No, indeed! But I looked down on it as I approached, -and could take in a vast area."</p> - -<p>William straightened up, and his eyes opened wider. -"Oho! Then you went there in an air-ship!"</p> - -<p>Cyrus nodded.</p> - -<p>"That accounts for no water on the voyage, and -all that other stuff you gave us."</p> - -<p>Again Cyrus nodded. And, with a broad smile of -amusement: "It might also account for Trinity spire -and the moon."</p> - -<p>But his audience was too much in earnest to be -thwarted by jokes. "Yes, yes!" said Mr. Bressani. -"That explains much that you have said. Please continue."</p> - -<p>William, however, with a frown, leaned back -against the desk. "Cyrus, I still believe you are lying -to us."</p> - -<p>"No, truly I am not. I don't pretend to give you -the whole truth, but what I do tell you is the truth -and nothing else."</p> - -<p>"Go on, Mr. Alton," said the Senior Partner. "We -interrupted you. It certainly is an amazing country."</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span></p> - -<p>Cyrus continued. "The whole country is cracked -and broken with chasms. From one volcano cańons -radiate in all directions. They are miles in width, and -they seem bottomless. And even in these cańons, on -projecting ledges, are the ruins of cities."</p> - -<p>"But why should they build their cities in those -sunless chasms?"</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a id="Fig_13"></a> - <img src="images/i_251.jpg" alt="" /> - <p class="caption">"BUT WHY BUILD THEIR CITIES IN THOSE SUNLESS CHASMS?"<span class="no-break">—<i>Page 214</i></span></p> -</div> - -<p>"My belief is that the moisture evaporated, then the -surface of all that country became so unbearably hot—with -no atmosphere as protection from the sun's -rays—that the inhabitants were driven to the cańons."</p> - -<p>"What a life! No wonder they all died!"</p> - -<p>"That portion of the universe," said Cyrus, "is the -desolation of desolation, the tragedy of tragedies. It -is a world of ashes. And over everything an awful -silence, a silence that frightens you. The stillness of -death, compared to it, is a merry waltz."</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a id="Fig_14"></a> - <img src="images/i_254.jpg" alt="" /> - <p class="caption">"AND OVER EVERYTHING AN AWFUL SILENCE"<span class="no-break">—<i>Page 214</i></span></p> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter"><a id="Fig_15"></a> - <img src="images/i_257.jpg" alt="" /> - <p class="caption">"——A WORLD OF DUST AND ASHES"<span class="no-break">—<i>Page 214</i></span></p> -</div> - - -<p>"How did you happen to find this country?"</p> - -<p>"I had heard of it. You all know about it in a -general way, as I have already said. But I tried to get -there and happened to succeed."</p> - -<p>William shook his head. "Sorry to contradict you, -Cyrus, but I never heard of such a place."</p> - -<p>Cyrus laughed. "Oh, yes, you have! Excuse me, -but you have all read about it, and seen many pictures -of it."</p> - -<p>Mr. Bressani took up the diamond. As he caressed -the glistening marvel he asked: "Do other people -know of these ruins?"</p> - -<p>"I think not."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span></p> - -<p>"You have never heard of any one else who has -been there?"</p> - -<p>"Never."</p> - -<p>"Is the district difficult to reach?"</p> - -<p>"Very—almost impossible. In fact the trip is so -long and risky that you need have no fear of other -explorers. I tell you this merely that you may know -the chances are small of the market being flooded with -diamonds—at least from that quarter. Nobody else -will try it. You may be sure of that. The diamonds -are there, however, and plenty of them."</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a id="Fig_16"></a> - <img src="images/i_260.jpg" alt="" /> - <p class="caption">"THE DIAMONDS ARE THERE, AND PLENTY OF THEM"<span class="no-break">—<i>Page 215</i></span></p> -</div> - -<p>"Plenty of them!"</p> - -<p>"Plenty—by the cart-load."</p> - -<p>William whistled. And the two older men whistled—in -spirit—and raised their eyebrows. With the -Bressani eyebrows still in the air their owner inquired: -"You say this was lying on the top of the ground?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; among other fragments."</p> - -<p>"Fragments of what?"</p> - -<p>For a moment the visitor closed his eyes. "That is -hard to answer. I was there at dusk. The light was -peculiar, and uncertain—and changing. I should say -there were fragments of cups and vases, of carved -capitals, scraps of metal that might be architectural -ornaments, all mingled with blocks of some white -material, perhaps marble, or alabaster. And all finely -carved."</p> - -<p>"These things were scattered about the ground?"</p> - -<p>"Scattered about, but not literally on the ground. -Many were lying on a pavement of different colored<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> -stones—the floor of a building I should say. The -outer walls and several columns were still standing."</p> - -<p>"It might have been a palace, a temple, a forum,—almost -anything of size and importance."</p> - -<p>"You know nothing of the history of those people, -of their manners and customs?"</p> - -<p>"Nothing, whatever."</p> - -<p>"Where could I find out? That is, of course, if we -had your permission."</p> - -<p>"Nowhere. Nobody knows. It is all forgotten—long -ago forgotten—with no records, no memories—not -even a tradition."</p> - -<p>There was a silence. Cyrus knew that his hearers -were having more or less difficulty in digesting his -statements. However, he smiled pleasantly, as he -said: "My sympathies are with you, gentlemen, and -my thanks for your courteous reception of my absurd -story. But there is one thing I do know about these -people. Although their buildings were often as high -as ours, I know their legs were shorter. All their -stone steps, in every case, had risers about half the size -of ours."</p> - -<p>"Ah! Then they were a race of pigmies."</p> - -<p>"I should think so, and with long arms and very -short legs. They were evidently strong on sculpture, -as there are fragments of statues, heads, bas reliefs, -monuments, etc., all scattered about. And the people -represented are very much like ourselves, in some -ways."</p> - - - -<div class="figcenter"><a id="Fig_17"></a> - <img src="images/i_263.jpg" alt="" /> - <p class="caption">"WITH LONG ARMS AND VERY SHORT LEGS"<span class="no-break">—<i>Page 216</i></span></p> -</div> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span></p> - -<p>"You say you were there at dusk. Why didn't you -see it by day light?"</p> - -<p>"Well, the—er—climate is peculiar. The air, if -you can call it air, is so very rarefied as to be no protection -whatever against the heat of the sun. And the -surface of the ground, by daylight, would burn your -feet. And by night, there being no atmosphere twixt -you and space, the temperature is about 300 degrees -below zero."</p> - -<p>"Three hundred degrees!"</p> - -<p>Cyrus smiled and nodded. "That's what the scientists -say. I had no thermometer with me."</p> - -<p>"But no human being could live in such a temperature!"</p> - -<p>"That is why I stuck to the twilight. And I suspect -that is why the cities were built in the cańons."</p> - -<p>"Why, of course! That explains it. I was wondering -what on earth could induce anybody to want -to live in those God-forsaken chasms."</p> - -<p>Mr. Bressani, however, had a deeper interest in -abnormal gems than in climatic conditions. "Did you -find this piece all alone, by itself,—apart from others?"</p> - -<p>"No; other pieces were near it."</p> - -<p>"But not so large as this."</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes! Some were much larger."</p> - -<p>Mr. Bressani frowned. "Larger than this?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, much larger."</p> - -<p>"But not diamonds—not this same material?"</p> - -<p>"I suppose they were. They looked just like it."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Then why didn't you bring a larger piece? It -would be a fabulous fortune, in itself."</p> - -<p>Cyrus seemed uncertain as to his answer. "Well—there -were—many reasons. One was that I did not -know they were diamonds. Another was that I needed -both hands for other purposes and could not carry—just -at that moment—anything too large to go in my -pocket. In fact I tried to pick up a beautifully carved -fragment nearly the size of a football, but I had to -drop it for this smaller one."</p> - -<p>The three jewelers regarded him with eager faces, -as children listen to a fairy tale. Mr. Bressani in a -low, somewhat awe stricken tone, said:</p> - -<p>"And there is really much of it?"</p> - -<p>"Lots of it."</p> - -<p>"But, of course, you are not absolutely sure it is -the same material?"</p> - -<p>"Well—I saw the other part of the one in your hand -lying beside it, and it was four or five times the size -of this one."</p> - -<p>The three men turned to each other, as if to discover -the effect, on other human beings, of such a -statement.</p> - -<p>The Senior Partner leaned forward, each hand -grasping an arm of his chair. The Bressani eyebrows -shot aloft, and he came a step nearer. Nephew -William adjusted his lips for a whistle, but changed -his mind. No sound came forth.</p> - -<p>It was the Senior Partner who was the first to find -himself, and return to business. Leaning back in his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> -chair he cleared his throat. "Mr. Alton, if you were -not an old friend of William's, and if I knew nothing -about you, I should say that Munchausen, by comparison, -was a clumsy beginner. But your own reputation -and that stone in Mr. Bressani's hand, are proofs -to the contrary—the best of proofs. Now let us get -to business. Is it your wish to sell this diamond to -us?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir. That's why I came here. And I would -prefer dealing with your house, if you care to bother -with it."</p> - -<p>The Senior Partner smiled. "It would be an unenterprising -jeweler who declined to bother with what -will soon become the most famous diamond of history—ancient -or modern. If agreeable to you, Mr. Alton, -you can leave the stone with us, and we will give you, -now, a receipt for an uncut diamond of seventy-one -hundred carats, value unknown. A few days hence, -at your convenience, we will submit for your consideration -a plan by which you shall receive a certain -amount at once in cash, the balance to be governed by -the final value of the stones as they are cut or sold. -Would that be satisfactory to you?"</p> - -<p>"Perfectly."</p> - -<p>"And perhaps you will agree to give us the preference -if you decide later to flood the market with -diamonds the size of paving stones."</p> - -<p>Cyrus smiled. "Yes, sir, I shall be glad to do so."</p> - -<p>A few moments later, the receipt in his pocket, -Cyrus left the private office, escorted by William. At<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> -the street door, as the young jeweler, at parting, shook -hands with his friend, he said: "And, by the way, -old man, when you can divulge the awful secret of -where you found it don't waste a second in telling us."</p> - -<p>"If there is a humorous side to this morning's interview, -Billy, it is in the name of that very place."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?"</p> - -<p>"I mean I mentioned the name, and more than -once."</p> - -<p>"Stuff!"</p> - -<p>"On my honor."</p> - -<p>"What was it?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, that's too easy! Good-by."</p> - -<p>And he left William standing in the doorway,—still -guessing.</p> - -<p>Alone together, the unparalleled, incredible wonder -on the desk before them, the Senior Partner and Mr. -Bressani remained silent for a time, as if recovering -from a dream. For the twentieth time that morning, -Mr. Bressani murmured: "It seems impossible!" -Then, after another silence: "But where did he get -it? Has he been to the very center of the earth?"</p> - -<p>"Or," said the Senior Partner, with a shrug, "to -the mountains of the moon."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_268.png" alt="Chapter XIII image" /> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XIII - -<span class="ch">A MESSAGE</span></h2> - -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="uppercase">To</span> be lifted, suddenly, from poverty to wealth, -is delightful. Especially delightful when preceded -by a preliminary course of self-denial. -For Cyrus and his father there was now an end, at -last, to the orthodox but discordant partnership between -Pride and Want.</p> - -<p>Vaulting ambition has its uses. So have rags and -hunger. And there are times, as in the case of Cyrus, -when they pull together. But now had come the -harvest. And the prosperity was real: the checks -from the Senior Partner were not a dream.</p> - -<p>"No more cheap food and shiny clothes for us," -said Cyrus to his father. "Me for gluttony; canvas -backs three times a day; Burgundy and dollar cigars. -And brand new raiment every morning!"</p> - -<p>Dr. Alton nodded. "Yes, that's a good program.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> -A change, even from bad to worse, is often beneficial. -Had you been brought up on canvas backs and Burgundy, -you might have yearned for water and dried -apples."</p> - -<p>One of the first things Cyrus did was to visit Mrs. -Eagan. The great desire of her life had been to revisit -Ireland, but she never could save enough money. She -had tried in vain to sell her little cottage with its two -acres of land. Now came a purchaser. For the acre -farthest from the house, for which there never had -been a bid, Cyrus paid her three thousand dollars. -And the happy Mrs. Eagan went to Ireland. He did -other things, equally unbusinesslike. Some for his old -friends; some for the town itself.</p> - -<p>As for the Great Discovery both Cyrus and his -father were of one opinion—that it never must be -made public: that the secret must die. One of many -reasons was, that with such a power in irresponsible -hands no man's property, and no man himself, would -be secure. What safety for a law abiding citizen -when any criminal could purchase for a few dollars -and carry in his hand, or pocket, a weapon of unlimited -energy and force? The burglar or the highwayman -could either escape at will or send his victim -into farthest space.</p> - -<p>He had various kinds of fun with his money. But -he was no fool with it. He had been too intimate with -debt, half-rations and shabby raiment to renew, voluntarily, -the old acquaintance. But the greatest satisfaction -of all was the prospect of bringing a long<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> -deferred pleasure to his father. Dr. Alton had spoken -in years gone by of a trip to Europe. And now he -could have it. Moreover, this trip abroad, according -to Cyrus, was to be such a new departure in activity -and leisure, in wisdom and extravagance, as to startle -Europe.</p> - -<p>"We'll make Croesus look like thirty cents—and -Lucullus a skinflint."</p> - -<p>But Fate, brainless Fate, whose rewards and punishments -seem random shots, stepped in between. And -the blow that came to Cyrus was the hardest in his -life.</p> - -<p>To the people of Longfields there was mystery in -certain periods of Dr. Alton's past. Those seven -years abroad were secret history. The little son and -his unknown mother had invited explanation. But -explanations were not offered. Moreover, it was soon -realized by his neighbors that Dr. Alton's private -affairs were his own, and were not for publication. -But people had surely a right to wonder why a physician -with his exceptional education and opportunities -should give so little thought to distinction in larger -fields and prefer obscurity in a forgotten little village.</p> - -<p>Miss Anita Clement and some other women believed -that this handsome young doctor had been the victim -of a blighting passion; that his heart, if not broken, -had received a wound that never healed. But all that -was speculative.</p> - -<p>Of some things, however, they were sure. One was -that his gentle manner, his never failing help and kindness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> -to poor and prosperous alike, had resulted in a -sincere affection for him, not only in Longfields itself -but in the neighboring villages. To every member -of the little community in which he lived and worked -for nearly thirty years his death was a personal loss.</p> - -<p>To Cyrus, this sudden, unexpected ending was a -blow that stunned. Many days were to pass before -he fully realized how irreparable was his loss. That -his father's death should come when it did made sorrow -doubly keen. Of what good this sudden wealth -when his best friend, after these years of economy and -self sacrifice, was not here to enjoy it? And that trip -abroad together—only a month away!</p> - -<p>Cyrus had this consolation, however, that the end -was free from suffering.</p> - -<p>An hour before his death—in a sunny November -afternoon—his father was reclining comfortably in -his easy chair when he told Cyrus where to find a -package of letters in the further corner of a certain -drawer in his desk. Cyrus brought them. Then he -sat by his father's side and, as the letters, after being -read, were handed him, one by one, he dropped them -into the fire. Some were limp and worn from many -readings. With them was a photograph of a woman's -face. After a moment's hesitation Dr. Alton handed -it to his son.</p> - -<p>"That's your mother, Cyrus."</p> - -<p>With unspeakable emotion the son gazed upon this -face. Her eyes looked straight into his own. They -were deep, dark, tragic—yet smiling. It seemed to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> -Cyrus that he had always known this face—and loved -it. He gazed in silence, overcome by feelings quite -different from anything he had heretofore experienced. -His father's voice recalled him to himself. The voice -was becoming weaker.</p> - -<p>"Destroy this picture, Cyrus. If you ever meet her -keep your knowledge to yourself. Let her be the first—to -greet you."</p> - -<p>So low was his voice that Cyrus bent forward to -get his words.</p> - -<p>"Remember, always remember, she is a good -woman."</p> - -<p>Dr. Alton leaned back and closed his eyes.</p> - -<p>A faint smile came to his lips. He whispered a -name—</p> - -<p>"Francesca."</p> - -<p>His thoughts wandered. In spirit he was far -from Longfields. Below him gleamed the Adriatic, -azure blue. The breath of spring came gently to his -cheeks. Before him, and very near, is a woman's face, -radiant with beauty and with love, and with unfailing -devotion. Her eyes looking deep into his own, searching -his innermost thoughts. There are none to hide, -for all are hers.</p> - -<p>The smile still upon his lips he murmured in French—his -voice fainter with each succeeding word—a -message.</p> - -<p>And the last word, "Francesca," was scarcely a -breath.</p> - -<p>Cyrus knew that another spirit had joined the countless<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> -host: that into these final words a faithful lover -had breathed his soul.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>At that sunny hour of the afternoon, in Longfields, -night had fallen in the city of Milan. The great opera -house was crowded. To lovers of music the farewell -appearance of the Diva was a memorable occasion. -It was also cause for surprise, but physicians had given -warning of a certain weakness about the heart. Besides, -it may have been that after thirty years of -triumph—though apparently as young as ever—there -had come a surfeit of glory; a yearning for the tranquil -life; for days and nights of less effort and less -excitement.</p> - -<p>So, still beautiful, erect as ever, and looking to perfection -the heroine, with the fresh, full voice of girlhood -that charmed the world, she was singing to-night -before an audience, or rather, a host of friends, that -filled the great building from the floor to the topmost -seats. Both the glorious voice and the Diva herself -seemed unchanged. To-night she was still the envy of -other singers. And to-night, as usual, she thrilled an -enchanted audience.</p> - -<p>Near the end of the second act came a surprise. -Then it was that the great singer seemed conquered by -some strange emotion—some mysterious agency that -hushed her voice and enslaved her spirit. And to that -audience it always remained a mystery.</p> - -<p>Softly, from the orchestra, rose the accompaniment -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> -to the aria—the divine aria—flooding the house with -its melody. The Diva, with lips parting for the opening -notes, was moving slowly toward the front of the -stage. Then, instead of the voice for which the hundreds -of eager listeners were waiting, they saw her -stop, and stand in silence. With eyes closed, and face -upturned, transfigured—as angels' faces are transfigured—she -stood, unconscious of the world about her. -Vainly the audience waited. Vainly the conductor -waved his baton, as his orchestra, with every bar, was -leaving the Diva still further behind.</p> - -<p>But the Diva was far away. She heard him not. -She heard nothing save the thing unheard by others. -The orchestra and its leader, the opera house and the -people in it, all had vanished—all had vanished as completely -from her thoughts as from her sight. The very -music itself helped the spirit's flight—to bear it aloft, -to transport her far—oh far indeed!—from where she -stood.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><a id="Fig_18"></a> - <img src="images/i_274.jpg" alt="" /> - <p class="caption2">"But the Diva was far away. She heard nothing save the thing -unheard by others."</p> -</div> - -<p>As a dying zephyr mingles with the fragrance of -the flowers, so with the harmony of the music came, -from over seas, a lover's message. Her name—Francesca—interwoven -with the melody, came gently to -her senses. She knew from whom. And she alone -knew what memories it revived, crowding upon her -through the music; precious memories of the only -passion of her life; of the one being to whom she -had given her heart, her self, her very soul—and for -all time. Now, once again, they were meeting. It -came, the message, not in words—merely the breath<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> -of a dying lover. It brought this truth, that all joy -of living had ended at their parting—nearly thirty -years ago. Not a moment in those years had his devotion -wavered, a devotion greater and more real than -all else in life, beyond and far above the reach of -death. Now, on the borders of that other world where -loyal hearts shall know no parting—there she would -find him waiting. Again her name—Francesca—fading -away into the melody of the aria.</p> - -<p>The Diva lowered her face, pressed a hand against -her temples and swayed as if to fall. But her recovery -was sudden. She smiled toward the sea of anxious -faces and nodded to the conductor, who started his -orchestra afresh. Then she sang the aria as never -before.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_278.png" alt="Chapter XIV image" /> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XIV - -<span class="ch">OVER SEAS</span></h2> - -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="uppercase">There</span> was music in Cyrus. As a boy, however, -he could never get it out. With no voice -for singing his main relief was in whistling and -humming and in drumming with his fingers. Which, -of course, made him more or less of a nuisance at -times. When he grew up his voice improved. Not -enough to outshine the nightingales, but it served for -domestic purposes. At church, for instance, he joined -the congregation in the hymns. His voice, in speaking, -was low, with a pleasant quality, and was more -than satisfactory for ordinary human intercourse. But -as a musical instrument it aroused no enthusiasm. -His father had said, on one occasion: "The louder -you sing, Cyrus, the less noise you make."</p> - -<p>But music had always moved him, and in a singular -way; much as many others are affected, perhaps, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> -more profoundly. It touched strange chords, deep -within him. It inspired him, and seemed to bring a -keener edge to his capacity for pain or pleasure; lifting -him, at times, far away from himself, to a world where -other people are not too real; where beauty and virtue, -power, glory and justice are at one's own command. -Music brought these things to Cyrus—also other -things for which a young man's soul is thirsting.</p> - -<p>One evening in May there was a service in the -church in which the congregation—Cyrus included—had -joined in the singing. After the service he walked -home alone. As he entered his own grounds the music -of the last hymn echoed in his brain. Still humming -it, he stopped and looked up at the stars. The solemn -stillness of the night brought memories of his father. -And as he stood there, gazing at the stars, he felt -in the night air itself an unfamiliar element; something -that awakened within him emotions unrelated to -his outward senses. There was no moon, but from -countless stars came flickering beams—faint greetings -from other worlds. He seemed alone in the Great -Silence—alone in the universe itself; in closer communion -with hidden things. From out the darkness, -mingling with the silence, yet almost silence itself, -there came to him a breath—a murmur. It was not -the evening breeze among the branches of the maples. -It was the gentlest music, but not the echoes in his -brain of the evening hymn. No—it came from far -away. It seemed personal—directed to himself. For -a time he stood without moving, every faculty alert.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> -Not with his ears did he listen, but with a deeper sense, -as of one spirit striving for communion with another. -At last the music, the voice, the indefinable melody -died away, gently, into the silence of the night.</p> - -<p>Patiently he waited. Then, after a time, when -nothing came, he opened his eyes and lowered his -face. In the continued silence about him he began to -suspect that his own brain might have been deceiving -him; that the message was from his own imagination. -And was it a message? It had told him nothing. So -far as he could divine it was a call—a prayer, but -clearly to himself. Still wondering, he entered the -house, did his customary little chores, then went upstairs -to bed.</p> - -<p>For a time he lay awake, thinking, but once asleep -his sleep was sound. From this sleep, however, he -was awakened by what seemed a whispered voice -within the room. He sat up in his bed, and spoke.</p> - -<p>"Who is it?"</p> - -<p>Then came—as before, when he was standing beneath -the stars—the almost inaudible, far-away echo -of a song. He listened, with every sense alert. And, -as before, it seemed addressed distinctly to himself—an -appeal to come. But where? So real was the entreaty -that he obeyed an impulse, arose from his bed -and prepared to dress. As he stood at his eastern -window a few moments later, he heard again—or -thought he heard—the alluring voice.</p> - -<p>A faint, cool light at the horizon was creeping -slowly upward, along the edges of the earth.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span></p> - -<p>Yes, it came from off there. And he would follow -it. Why not? His father was gone. What held him -in Longfields—or anywhere else? Moreover, he had -power to travel as was not given to other men. Besides, -it pleased him to believe in this need for himself, -this call to danger, death or sacrifice—or whatever -it might be. To him it had become a prayer from one -soul to another. And he felt that he and the other -soul were not strangers.</p> - -<p>So, an hour later, Cyrus in his machine rose high -above the earth and steered his course toward the -spreading light in the East. Now it was a warmer tint, -and growing rosier as it spread.</p> - -<p>Guided only by the rising sun and by some subtle -sense which he did not pretend to define, he sailed—or -darted—over the waste of water between Cape Cod -and Portugal. Far below him, on this deep blue ocean, -specks were moving. Some were white; others darker, -shedding smoke. But all moved so slowly, compared -with himself, that they seemed at anchor. For, with -him, any speed was possible and unfailing.</p> - -<p>This was his first trip by daylight across the -Atlantic. When out of sight of land, with the level, -dark blue line of the horizon on every side, he began -to have the same sensation as when flying through -space; a sensation of aimless wandering. Also, there -being no land marks, nothing by which to measure -progress, he found his only way of gauging speed was -by the amount of electric power he applied to his -machine. He had, of course, the sun to go by: and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> -he knew the difference in time between Boston and -Lisbon was about four hours. Six hours he had allowed -for reaching Europe but he was startled by the -rapidity with which the morning sun was sliding westward -across the heavens. It helped him to guess at -his velocity when he found the morning sun had become, -somewhat suddenly, an afternoon sun, and was -well behind him. Across the ocean he shot his -machine, more like a cannon ball than a passenger -craft. Over the first piece of land—which must be -Spain—he hovered a few minutes for a hasty lunch; -also for a supply of fresh air. His oxygen cylinder -was so large and with such enormous pressure to the -square foot that with the attendant apparatus for supplying -breathable air it could keep him alive for several -days. But now he took good long breaths of the outer -air as a matter of both economy and luxury.</p> - -<p>Then along the Northern end of the Mediterranean, -still guided by Faith alone for the spot whence came -the summons.</p> - -<p>Now Cyrus, in his knowledge of geography, was -about like the rest of us. He had learned it, but -details were not fresh in his mind. The two great -islands off to his right he guessed were Corsica and -Sardinia. Over Northern Italy he sped, where local -showers were hiding, for a time, the land beneath. -One city on the western coast, with its countless -canals, was unmistakably Venice. On he sped across -the upper end of the Adriatic—the narrow part. Here, -as he approached the eastern shore, guidance forsook<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> -him. He slowed his machine, then stopped. Thus far -his intuition, whether right or wrong, had led him -without wavering. Now, and suddenly, all guidance -ceased—his intuition vanished. A sudden need, he felt, -for knowledge he did not possess. A sense of helplessness -came upon him, intensified, perhaps, by the -reaction from his previous confidence. In fear of -straying from his course he decided to alight. If -fortune favored him the voice might come again, and -he could start afresh. So he descended, slowly, toward -the summit of a towering hill whose western sides -were steep and thickly wooded.</p> - -<p>He landed in a cypress grove, beside a garden.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_284.png" alt="Chapter XV image" /> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XV - -<span class="ch">A GARDEN OF WONDERS</span></h2> - -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="uppercase">When</span> Cyrus stepped out of his machine he -stood for a moment unsteady on his legs; a -usual condition in a sudden change of air -after hours of bewildering speed.</p> - -<p>So far as he could judge he was in the grounds of -an institution of some kind—a monastery, a college, -a convent, or possibly a summer palace. Along the -side of the garden overlooking the sea, which lay far -below, ran a wall. On this wall at regular spaces -stood statues of ecclesiastical persons, presumably -Saints. They stood back to the sea, facing the garden. -In the garden a fountain played. Off beyond the -garden he saw long, white buildings, and a chapel. -But what most impressed him was the beauty of a line -of cloisters, their many arches of white marble, softened<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> -by age, now all aglow in the light of the western -sun. But his wandering, enchanted eyes fell upon -another sight, different in character, yet fully as interesting. -But in a different way. So interesting that he -forgot, for a moment, the garden, the fountain, the -cloisters and the Saints. The sight that gently stirred -him was the figure of a girl; a graceful figure that -seemed a fitting climax to this garden in fairy land. -She was leaning against the parapet, her face toward -the sun, now sinking in the West. She seemed in deepest -meditation. Her dress, a light gray, with white -bands at the neck and shoulders, suggested a religious -order. So he decided that his guess at having landed -in a convent might be correct. He was not familiar -with convents. The inmates, so far as he knew, might -be a mingling of religious fanatics and female criminals -partially reformed. He felt sure, however, up to -the present moment, that they were wide and square in -build, plain of face and haters of men. Hence his -surprise at the alluring, girlish figure now before him. -Perhaps this one was in here by mistake. Or, she -might be some lovely victim of disappointed love. -May be a human angel brutally treated by cruel relatives. -Perhaps a marriageable princess escaping a distasteful -alliance. But these were merely guesses. She -was standing not far away, and was partly hidden -from the convent buildings by the trunks of the ancient -cypresses.</p> - -<p>Cyrus approached this damsel. He saw that she -was short, and slight of figure, distinctly <i>petite</i>, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> -so absorbed in her own thoughts that she failed to -hear his footsteps on the gravel walk.</p> - -<p>He coughed. It seemed a safe if not original manner -of announcing his presence. The girl turned and -faced him. She was startled; and a hand went swiftly -to her lips as if to suppress an exclamation. A short -moment they stood regarding each other, a dozen -feet apart, the light full in the face of the intruder, -while the girl's was partly in shadow. For the descending -sun was almost directly behind her. So earnestly -she studied him that he became embarrassed. Her -own surprise was so great that her lips parted, then -closed again, as if her voice were lost in astonishment. -She took a backward step and laid a hand on the -parapet as if for support. As for Cyrus, this little -person was easily the most entrancing vision of his -experience. Slight, erect, with a dainty head and -glorious eyes, she seemed a perfect and harmonious -element with the radiant splendors in the West. Such -eyes he had not beheld since he lived beneath the spell -of the celestial windows of Ruth Heywood's soul. -These present eyes, now opened wide in wonder, were -trying to grapple with his presence, as with some -visitors from another planet.</p> - -<p>Cyrus bowed; his very best, most elaborate and -ceremonious inclination. And Cyrus's bows were -works of art.</p> - -<p>Had he been attired in court costume, and swept -the earth with a chapeau of ostrich plumes instead of -a checkered golf cap, he would have eclipsed the Grand<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> -Monarque in his own field. It was, of course, the -same old salutation that had startled Longfields years -ago.</p> - -<p>Then he advanced a step. "Do you happen to speak -English, madam?"</p> - -<p>The girl hesitated a moment, then nodded.</p> - -<p>Cyrus, delighted at the unexpected answer, took -another step nearer—perhaps two or three. Joy was -written in his face. His manner became, unconsciously, -almost familiar.</p> - -<p>"How fortunate! I am a stranger here. Can you -tell me what place this is?"</p> - -<p>As he moved nearer the parapet the girl had turned -toward him until her face was more in the sunlight. -In his own face admiration was clearly written. The -girl lowered her eyes. But she made no answer.</p> - -<p>He spoke again. "This certainly is not a hospital, -is it?"</p> - -<p>She moved her head, gently, in the negative.</p> - -<p>"Is it the palace, or villa, of some King, or Prince -or Duke—or something?"</p> - -<p>Again the silent answer in the negative.</p> - -<p>A chilling thought came to the traveler. Could this -be a deaf and dumb asylum?</p> - -<p>Now Cyrus had been "going on his nerves" for -some hours and they might be more sensitive than -usual. The last distressful thought showed plainly in -his face. His heart began to bleed for this afflicted -angel. And so pretty! So superlatively charming and -desirable! As she raised the wondrous eyes and again<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> -regarded him his one ambition, at the moment, was to -avoid appearing too imbecile and clownish. And lo, -he was both! Never had he felt so helpless. If he -knew at least the sign language there might be hope -for progress. Even in that field of expression all he -could recall were the doings in the pantomimes: to -shut the eyes and incline your head upon your hand -for sleep; to wabble your jaw for terror, and to lick -your lips and rub your stomach with a rotary motion -when you wanted food. But this was no moment for -comic things, when his own heart and the very air -he breathed were all a quiver with high adventure, -with Beauty and Romance. So he stood before her -in a painful, and—it seemed to him—a foolish silence. -He looked down, then away, then at her, and as his -drowsy eyes rested on her face he thought he detected -an effort to suppress a smile. This doubled his embarrassment. -He tried vainly to discover in what -manner his question was mirth provoking. However, -he made a brave effort to assert himself—to appear as -if nobody cared. So he smiled, and straightened up a -little.</p> - -<p>"If you speak English won't you please say something? -Just tell me what kind of a place this is? -Where I am?"</p> - -<p>"Non entra no signori in questo giardino."</p> - -<p>Cyrus knew those words were Italian, and that was -all. He frowned in his endeavor to guess their -meaning.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I am sorry, but I don't understand. Won't you -please say that in English?"</p> - -<p>"I said you were in a place where men are not -allowed."</p> - -<p>In pronouncing English words it seemed another -voice. And he had heard it before! His drowsy eyes -opened wider, his lips parted, and for a moment he -stared, in wonder, as if belief came hard. Was it the -voice he had heard in the darkness—in the motor, that -night? As he stood in dumb surprise, hoping for the -best, the girl stepped forward with a smile and extended -a hand.</p> - -<p>"Ruth!" he exclaimed. "Oh, Ruth! Really, is it -you?"</p> - -<p>It was. And great joy was in the meeting. They -told each other many things. He learned that after -the death of her parents she had found a refuge here, -in this convent, through the influence of a friend. -And he, in turn, told of his father's sudden death, of -his own doings, of the Great Discovery. But he made -no mention of his present affluence. He could foresee -her sorrow and her sympathy for a man, otherwise -normal, who told of gathering diamonds on the moon.</p> - -<p>Leaning against the parapet, and facing the golden -sky across the water, they talked, forgetful of surroundings. -So engrossing was this talk of other days -that they lived again in Longfields.</p> - -<p>From this Fairy Land of childhood Ruth was the -first to return to earth. "You must go, Drowsy."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> -And she turned an anxious look toward the buildings -beyond the garden.</p> - -<p>"Oh, don't say that! Why, Ruth, this is the happiest -moment of my life—a thousand times the happiest. -Life has really begun again!"</p> - -<p>"That is very polite of you, but——"</p> - -<p>"Polite! Well, I should say! Why, Ruth, your -very presence—just to look at you and hear your -voice—is a—is a—breath of heaven. You are the -loveliest thing I have ever seen. I can't express it!"</p> - -<p>She laughed. "You are doing fairly well."</p> - -<p>"Of course, you know it already, but truly, with no -exaggeration, as you stand there now with that western -sun for a side light you are the daintiest thing in -Creation. And the same spell-binding eyes! Well, -I knew that night in the dark that you were not a -giantess—and that was about all."</p> - -<p>She raised a hand for silence. "That will do, -Drowsy. You have covered the ground."</p> - -<p>But Cyrus went on. "And so angelic and pleasantly -superior! Why, you are a temptation to any able-bodied -lover to pick you up and run—or fly—away -with you."</p> - -<p>She blushed, frowned and laughed, all at the same -time. "That will do! Now I know exactly what -I am—and just how childish a man can be. I believe -you are lighter headed than when you were a boy."</p> - -<p>"I am telling the truth."</p> - -<p>"Telling the truth! Then you have changed, indeed, -for that was not your habit." In sudden alarm she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> -straightened up. "Oh, but you mustn't be seen here, -Drowsy! You must go—at once!"</p> - -<p>"Not now? Not this very minute?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, this very minute. Men are not allowed here, -under any circumstances. If I were found talking -with you it would mean—oh, anything!"</p> - -<p>"What does it matter? You are not going to stay -here."</p> - -<p>"Stay here? Of course I am!"</p> - -<p>"But not long?"</p> - -<p>"So long as I live."</p> - -<p>"You don't mean that!"</p> - -<p>"Why not? I expect to live and die here. We are -all very happy and very thankful."</p> - -<p>"You don't mean that you are not coming back to—to -Longfields—to me? You don't really mean what -you say? That you are going to stay here forever?"</p> - -<p>"Certainly. Of course. Why not?"</p> - -<p>"Then you have changed your mind since this morning—since -yesterday."</p> - -<p>She looked up into Cyrus's face, puzzled, and disturbed. -"Changed my mind? What do you mean? -I really don't understand."</p> - -<p>"Are you pretending that you don't know why I -am here?"</p> - -<p>"Pretending!"</p> - -<p>"Any other word that you prefer. Only tell me."</p> - -<p>"Tell you what?"</p> - -<p>"Do you mean to say that you don't know why I -am here?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span></p> - -<p>"You came to see me, I suppose."</p> - -<p>"And you had no idea I was coming?"</p> - -<p>"Not the slightest. How could I? I never was -more surprised. But it's a most welcome surprise."</p> - -<p>Cyrus closed his eyes and drew a long breath as -one who makes an effort at self control. "I ask just -one thing, Ruth. Be honest with me."</p> - -<p>"Be honest! Why, Cyrus, what <i>do</i> you mean? -Indeed I can only guess at what's in your mind. You -look as if you were angry. You have no right to be. -Aren't you assuming——"</p> - -<p>"Oh, don't! Don't do that! At least be frank. -Why did you call me across the water? Just for the -pleasure of doing this?"</p> - -<p>"Call you? Across the water?"</p> - -<p>There was touch of contempt in Cyrus's manner as -he replied: "You don't even know what I mean?"</p> - -<p>"On my honor I do not!"</p> - -<p>"And you accuse me of not being truthful!"</p> - -<p>"Drowsy, listen. This may be our last meeting. -Let us not part in this spirit—through any misunderstanding. -Our friendship is too precious for that, -isn't it? I beg you, tell me what you mean by my -calling you. When? How? Do you mean a letter?"</p> - -<p>"I mean the message I received last night, and -again early this morning. Through the air—by wireless -as it were—in the old way, years ago, that I often -got your messages."</p> - -<p>"But I have sent you no message."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Didn't you even think of me yesterday or this -morning?"</p> - -<p>"No, I did not. I have thought of you often, and -of our old childhood attachment, but not yesterday -nor this morning, nor for several days."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps you remember," said Cyrus, speaking -slowly, the slumbrous eyes looking earnestly down into -Ruth's, "I used to get messages from you when we -were far apart, even from your house to mine."</p> - -<p>"Indeed I do! And it was most mysterious—almost -uncanny."</p> - -<p>"And they never deceived us?"</p> - -<p>"No, never;—as I remember them."</p> - -<p>"Well, it was the same sort of message I received -last night. It came to me twice, and the meaning of -the message was as clear as any spoken word. And -to this spot it guided me."</p> - -<p>He turned and looked about the grounds, beyond -the trees and garden, toward the cloisters and the -chapel. "Who but you could call me here?"</p> - -<p>Ruth, also, looked toward the convent buildings. -"Is it not possible your own brain may have played -you a trick? Such things happen, you know."</p> - -<p>"My brain has not played such tricks. So far it has -never deceived me. To be honest I was not thinking -of you at the time. Father's death had been almost -my only thought for weeks."</p> - -<p>"What more can I say, Drowsy? I am telling you -the truth. And after all why should I call you? If<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> -you are the faithful soul you pretend to be, why didn't -you write me months ago?"</p> - -<p>"How could I? I never had your address. And -you promised—or almost promised—to let me have it. -I waited, and waited, hoping for it—wondering in -what way it was to come."</p> - -<p>She frowned: then, with a solemn movement of the -head:</p> - -<p>"You did have it."</p> - -<p>"I did have it! How on earth could I get it?"</p> - -<p>"From Gertrude Page. I told her to mention a -letter from me. Then, if you asked for my address, -she would give it to you. But you didn't ask."</p> - -<p>Vehemently he protested. "On my honor, Ruth, -this is the first I have heard of it. She never spoke -of any letter. And why should she, poor thing? -For nearly a year she has been in the asylum at -Worcester."</p> - -<p>"You mean her—her mind is affected?"</p> - -<p>"Yes;—sort of a nervous breakdown. And her -memory gone."</p> - -<p>"Oh, how dreadful!"</p> - -<p>In the silence that followed, Ruth found the drowsy -eyes looking deep into her own, as if reading her -innermost thoughts. She recalled the singular power -he had exercised as a boy—of seeing into other people's -minds, apparently without effort, and answering -questions before they were asked. At this present -moment she had reasons for keeping her own thoughts -to herself. She avoided his gaze, and looked away,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> -over the water, toward the west. Too late, it seemed, -for he said, quietly:</p> - -<p>"It would have been fairer to me if you had sent -it."</p> - -<p>"Sent what?"</p> - -<p>"The second letter, the one you wrote to somebody -else."</p> - -<p>Ruth's little figure stiffened. Color flew to her -cheeks, and there were signs of anger as she faced -him.</p> - -<p>"How do you know I wrote a second letter?"</p> - -<p>Taken aback by this sudden change of manner, he -hesitated, then he smiled, but with an obvious effort. -And the smile was not of mirth. It was a smile of -the joyless type, often employed to carry favor. "Why—I—er—I -don't know exactly."</p> - -<p>"Yes you do know. You pried into my thoughts. -It's your old trick. And a hateful habit."</p> - -<p>"I am sorry, Ruth. I know it's a hateful habit."</p> - -<p>"Then why do you do it?"</p> - -<p>"I don't do it. I didn't mean to do it then. It's -not a habit any more. Years ago I gave it up. But -now, I was so anxious, so very anxious to know your -real thoughts—to know if you really had no love for -me at all—that I couldn't resist. I swear I will not -do it again. Truly I almost never do it. But now, -at the critical moment of my life, when it's a matter -of life or death, the temptation was too great."</p> - -<p>"It's an exasperating, dishonorable trick, and I -don't like it."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I am sorry, Ruth. Please forgive me."</p> - -<p>"And you are very much mistaken if you think any -woman with a particle of pride is going to marry a -man who can spy into her secret thoughts—and merely -by staring at her."</p> - -<p>Her eyes still avoided him. She looked over the -garden, toward the cloisters, anywhere except at his -face. When she spoke again, however, there was more -sympathy in her voice. "But that doesn't matter. It -has always been my intention to remain here."</p> - -<p>"You don't really mean it?"</p> - -<p>"Indeed I do! It is no sudden decision. I am very -happy here."</p> - -<p>He turned partly away, and said nothing. She -glanced at his face, and its expression would have -softened the Rock of Ages. There was no doubt of -his sincerity; nor of his silent agony beneath the blow -he had just received. No words were uttered. He -simply stood and gazed—at nothing.</p> - -<p>Across the garden, from the open windows of the -central building, came the sound of a harp. It came -faintly, a gentle, plaintive melody, all in harmony -with the murmur of the fountain, the fading glories -in the west—and an aching heart. The voice of the -harp may have had its effect on Ruth. As she looked -up at the face of Cyrus, with its misery, she began -to feel the old-time sympathy of their childhood; the -long forgotten sense of responsibility for his welfare -when she was mother and sister to him, with the -woman's love he had missed as a boy; also his chosen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> -pal;—his adored and trusted playmate. She felt again -the yearning to keep him out of trouble. His distress -brought an almost equal suffering to herself. But -when he turned his eyes again to her face she was—apparently—still -studying the cloisters.</p> - -<p>"Is this really the end?" He spoke in a lower, -unsteady voice. "Do you really mean that our boy -and girl days, our old affection, all those memories—and -you don't know how much they have meant to -me—always, always—through everything—you don't -really mean—all that is—is just—nothing? That I -am no more to you than anybody else?"</p> - -<p>The heart in Ruth's little body beat so loud—it -seemed to her—that a man could hear it. She tried -hard to blink away the moisture in her eyes as they -rested on various objects, but not on the face of Cyrus. -"You will get over it, Drowsy. I feel it, in another -way, as much as you do. Please don't talk about it. -And you really must go. A man's presence here—and -alone with me—would be very hard to explain. -Please go—for my sake!"</p> - -<p>Cyrus closed his eyes and drew a hand, slowly, -across his forehead. Then, instead of the protest -she expected, he straightened up in a sudden agitation, -laid his hand on her arm and pointed toward -the convent buildings.</p> - -<p>The voice of a woman, singing, came floating across -the silent garden.</p> - -<p>"What is that?" he whispered.</p> - -<p>Also in a lower tone Ruth answered: "That is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> -Sister Francesca, singing. She has a heavenly voice."</p> - -<p>"What is she singing?"</p> - -<p>"An old Hungarian song. A mother's prayer for -her child. She often sings it. And nothing could be -more beautiful."</p> - -<p>"Sister Francesca!" he exclaimed, but in a solemn -whisper. He remembered his father's dying words.</p> - -<p>"A famous singer," Ruth explained. "All the -world has heard of her. She was never a mother but -she sings this song with all the feeling and the——"</p> - -<p>He did not hear the end of the sentence. He had -started in the direction of the song, across the garden.</p> - -<p>"Stop! Stop! Cyrus, stop. You don't know what -you are doing!"</p> - -<p>But he paid no attention. Again she called. She -entreated, then commanded. Still he paid no attention. -And he walked so fast that she stopped and stood -still in helpless terror. She could only guess at what -this humiliating misadventure might signify to the -other sisters. On second thought she followed, but -with the courage of despair. The catastrophe was at -hand, and she would face it. As for Cyrus, he heard -her not. He heard only the song. He heard only the -woman singing—the voice and the song that had come -to him beneath the stars, at Longfields!</p> - -<p>At last he stopped. And when he stopped he was -standing upon a stone terrace, where high arched windows -reached the floor, their heavy casements now -wide open.</p> - -<p>There he stood, and listened.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span></p> - -<p>Although a lover of music, and keenly sensitive to -its charm, this prayer affected him beyond any other -song. Its pathos, with the divine voice that had -thrilled the world, reached deeper than his emotions. -Into his very soul it sank. It seemed to open the doors -of memory—the memory of things long forgotten; -things almost of another life.</p> - -<p>Under a spell he listened, and the spell was intensified -by the scene about him,—an enchanted garden -high above the world. Against the gold and crimson -in the West stood the statues at the garden's edge, -their purple shadows reaching almost to the terrace. -With the warm, soft light that enveloped all things -came a peace and a beauty that were more of paradise -than of earth. And, as if to complete the illusion of -the upper realms, the voice of the singer seemed to -lift him yet further from the world of common things. -Between this voice and his spiritual self came a new -born harmony. It came to him as a message between -two hearts, wafted across a gulf of years. The message -it brought was intimate, for him alone. To the -voice itself, a tendril of love, all the chords of his own -heart were vibrating. Some mysterious power reawakened -elusive but imperishable bonds between itself -and him.</p> - -<p>He closed his eyes, shut out the world about him, -and his soul and the soul of the singer were one.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_300.png" alt="Chapter XVI image" /> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XVI - -<span class="ch">THE SOUL OF A SONG</span></h2> - -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="uppercase">Within</span>, at one side of the room, a group of -forty sisters, more or less, sat listening to -the song. The room was spacious. Against -its white walls hung various paintings by old masters. -The further wall, facing the western windows, was -partly covered by an enormous tapestry representing -Esther and her handmaidens before King Ahasuerus. -The king was on a throne, amid the splendors of his -court. Now, at this hour, its colors were all aglow -at the touch of the sinking sun. Between the three -long windows stood growing plants in massive pots of -Siena marble.</p> - -<p>Across the room, facing the sisters, stood Madame -Francesca; and, not far away, the accompanist with -her harp.</p> - -<p>The various members of the little audience were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> -affected by the song in different ways and in different -degree, according to temperament. Some, enraptured -by her voice and art, leaned forward in ćsthetic joy. -Others, with moister eyes and quicker breath, gave -out their hearts to the deeper meaning of the song. -Madame Drusilla, an older woman whose two young -sons had fallen in the war, sat always, on these occasions, -with head bent low, her face in her hands. But -all the others kept their eyes upon the singer. For -the personality of Madame Francesca—as she wished -to be called since her retirement from the world—possessed -in itself an irresistible charm. Now, standing -in her light gray uniform, in the flood of golden -light from the great windows, she seemed transfigured—a -celestial being from another sphere.</p> - -<p>The song itself was the outpouring of a mother's -love. And it was rendered with a pathos, a beauty and -a depth of feeling that stirred the heart of every -listener. It seemed to the sisters a marvel of dramatic -art that a woman, however great an artist, could so -touch the hearts of others when not herself a mother. -And they marveled that a woman whose physicians -forbade excitement could so move an audience and -not be overwhelmed herself by emotion.</p> - -<p>The song ended. As the fingers of the harpist -moved gently across the strings, in the last notes of -the accompaniment, Madame Francesca stood for a -moment with closed eyes. Her breathing and the -color in her cheeks showed a degree of feeling which -Sister Lucrezia, the physician, did not approve.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span></p> - -<p>Then came a climax to the song—a climax far -transcending any singer's art. In this short, somewhat -solemn silence that followed the song, there appeared -in one of the long windows that opened to the floor, -a figure rarely seen within the convent walls. It was -a man. And the man was neither workman, priest, -grand duke or king. Neither was he old. Men visitors -were rare, and the few that entered were usually -middle aged or churchly. This visitor was young, -hatless, his hair in disorder. He wore a checkered -suit and leather leggings, and he was in no way ecclesiastical. -His manner was eager,—somewhat excited, -with eyes fixed earnestly on Sister Francesca. He -paid no attention to the other sisters. If such a thing -was possible he was ignorant of their presence. As -for the sisters they were too surprised to speak, or -move. They merely sat and stared.</p> - -<p>Cyrus stepped within, slowly, as in a trance. Slowly -he advanced toward Madame Francesca. She, as surprised -as any of the others, regarded him in silence -until he stopped before her. As they stood facing each -other, the western light on both their faces, the spectators—including -Ruth, now at the open window—began -to marvel. Fear began to mingle with surprise, -for many in the audience knew that famous beauties -could be tormented by crazy lovers. But fear, in turn, -gave way to wonder, for it proved a strange interview, -never forgotten by those who saw it. No words -were spoken. No words were needed. In the eyes -that looked into his own Cyrus read their greeting as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> -clearly as in an open book. And she, as clearly, looked -deep into his heart—as she had looked into the heart -of his father. Now in his responsive, eager face she -saw the confirmation of his father's letters, that she -had bequeathed to her child her own extraordinary -faculty. It brought a sudden joy, this assurance of -a perfect understanding. Each received, in full, the -other's message. In the face of Cyrus—with his -grandfather's drowsy eyes—she saw his happiness in -this meeting. He was telling her in unspoken words -of his childhood yearnings; how he had thought and -dreamed of her from early boyhood; that he had -prayed and hoped for this meeting. And now—here, -had come the fulfillment of all his dreams, his hopes, -his prayers! And he, as he fathomed to their secret -depths the tragic but tender eyes, found love and a -heart-expanding welcome.</p> - -<p>The little audience, however, saw nothing but the -outward, silent greetings. To them was not revealed -the greater happiness, the imperishable bond.</p> - -<p>But this silent meeting, with its overwhelming joy, -was the prelude to the drama—its silent overture. -The curtain had risen on the Diva's final triumph, the -Immortal Opera with its happy ending.</p> - -<p>To the amazement of the audience she drew the -young man's face to hers and kissed him on either -cheek. Then, overcome by emotion, as it seemed, her -head fell slowly forward on his breast. Without his -supporting arms she would have sunk to the floor. -The sisters saw, and hastened to her side. Cyrus, with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> -their help, carried the fainting figure to a nearby -bench, where they laid her, with a cushion beneath -her head. Sister Lucrezia, the physician, bent anxiously -over the unconscious form. And so sudden was -it all that her hearers could hardly believe her when -at last she arose, and solemnly announced that the -spirit of Madame Francesca had risen to another life.</p> - -<p>She spoke in Italian but Cyrus knew its meaning. -His head drooped and he stood motionless, crushed, -as if his own spirit and that of the sleeping figure -on the bench were still together.</p> - -<p>It was the Diva's long sleep. The last notes of -her enchanting voice had died away; the curtain was -down, the orchestra gone, the lights out. The audience -had vanished. No more in the empty house would be -heard the clapping of hands, the cries of enthusiasm, -the <i>bravos</i> and <i>encores</i>.</p> - -<p>But there are memories that never die. And now, -to those who looked upon the tranquil face, it seemed -as if memories of conquest and of triumph—or of -something higher—still lingered in her heart. For -the face was more than peaceful. There was a smile -upon the lips that bore witness to a perfect contentment -beyond the touch of death.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Cyrus was recalled to himself by the voice of the -Mother Superior, a tall, gray-haired, kind-faced -woman. She approached him, and in a voice of sympathy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> -addressed him, in Italian. He understood the -meaning of the message; that she shared his grief, -but the presence of men was forbidden; the rules -were strict, and she begged him to go. He expressed -his gratitude by a respectful inclination and a few -words in English. Then he walked over to the silent -figure. Upon her folded hands he laid one of his -own and stood, for a moment, looking down upon -the face. The rosy light from the western sky seemed -to bring the flush of life to the Diva's cheeks. He -knelt beside the bench. Reverently he touched his -lips to the sleeper's forehead.</p> - -<p>He arose and moved toward the terrace. Near the -window he stopped, and to the watching sisters he -bowed. In this obeisance he told his sorrow and his -profound respect. Then he turned and went out as he -came.</p> - -<p>The Mother Superior, still apprehensive, asked -Ruth to accompany him to the gates and make sure -of his departure. But Cyrus did not walk toward the -gates. He walked toward the spot where he and Ruth -had met, then beyond among the trees. During this -walk neither spoke. As Cyrus was obviously in -deepest sorrow Ruth refrained from words. Absorbed -in her own thoughts, she suddenly realized -that she was approaching an unfamiliar object. This -unfamiliar object, a thing about twenty feet in length -and a little taller than a man, might pass for some -unknown monster of the deep, or a minor whale. -It seemed to be of iron with a trap-door in the side<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> -just large enough for a man to climb within. Its -color was a dull gray.</p> - -<p>"Look!" she exclaimed. "What on earth is that?"</p> - -<p>"My flying machine. That is what I came in."</p> - -<p>"You came in that?"</p> - -<p>As she looked up at him he nodded, slowly, and -made no other reply. The light was fading, but she -could see that a change had come into his face since -they stood together at the garden wall. This new -expression showed a side of his character that she -had forgotten. She now remembered that it was the -same look that had come into his face when he vanquished -the Tormentor in the Unitarian Church, years -ago; when the good natured, easy going boy became, -of a sudden, a reckless gladiator, the fearless defender -who fights—and dies, if needed—for a sacred -cause; his God, his Country, or—on that occasion—for -his girl. It told deep emotions, of strength of -purpose and the courage that has no respect for obstacles. -Yet the slumbrous eyes were friendly as he -said:</p> - -<p>"Come, Ruth. Come home with me. I will make -you happier than you will ever be in this place."</p> - -<p>"No, Cyrus. No. I cannot."</p> - -<p>"Do you mean that you will stay here all your -life, from a sense of duty?"</p> - -<p>"No—not wholly. Oh, why begin all over again? -Please be reasonable, Drowsy. Please go away -quietly."</p> - -<p>His voice was gentle, but there was something in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> -his face that recalled the boy of long ago, the boy -who vanquished giants. Now it was the man—who -might defy the gods. She was afraid:—of what, she -knew not. But she took a backward step, a hand to -her breast as if to calm a nervous heart. There was -reason to be afraid. For then happened the unforgivable -thing—doubly unforgivable when applied to -a woman of sensibility and pride. He bent forward, -to pick up something at her feet, she thought. Then, -without warning, and all too sudden for escape, she -felt an arm behind her knees, another across her back, -and she was lifted from the ground. Before she could -protest, or even struggle, he pushed open the door of -the iron monster with his foot and passed her within -as if she were a child. Gently he placed her on the -floor and climbed in himself. She found herself sitting -in front of him, her shoulders held firmly between -his knees. He shut the little door at his side -and all was dark. A button was pressed, one or two -small levers manipulated, then a buzzing sound, a -slight quivering of the car and through the port hole -in front she saw that they were rising above the tops -of the trees.</p> - -<p>Then, high into the air.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_308.png" alt="Chapter XVII image" /> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XVII - -<span class="ch">"I MEAN IT"</span></h2> - -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="uppercase">Six</span> hundred miles an hour, to old-time travelers, -might seem fast. High up in the air, however, -some miles above the earth with nothing beneath -but the Atlantic Ocean, it seems a moderate pace. -There are none of the usual landmarks to gauge one's -speed; no telegraph poles, houses, or towns. The -few ships one passes, seen far below, are movable objects -with no definite relation to your own progress. -Also, in a practically air tight conveyance no wind can -beat against your face.</p> - -<p>While three hours may seem brief for a transatlantic -passage it must be remembered that the time Cyrus -lost in going Eastward he gained in going West. The -surface of our little earth moves eastward about a -thousand miles an hour; so, with North America rushing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> -forward to meet him he could easily make the -journey of five thousand miles and more in the four -hours, and almost without hurrying. There is a startling -difference in celerity between an automobile and -a yoke of oxen; more still between a steamship and a -cannon-ball: and Cyrus' device was capable of any -speed that he dared to travel. The only delays were -in starting off, and in approaching his own Coast. -Once above Massachusetts, however, he could easily -find Longfields. The landmarks were familiar.</p> - -<p>During this journey very little conversation took -place between his passenger and himself. Sitting on -the floor in front of him, her shoulders between his -knees, he could not see her face. She made no acknowledgment -of his speeches and gave no answer to -any questions. He was correct in his belief that she -was both alarmed and angry. But he did not know -at the time that her anger far exceeded her alarm. -This he realized, however, when he helped her from -the car at the door of her aunt's house in Longfields.</p> - -<p>For a moment she leaned against the door, weak, -trembling, dazed, her hair disarranged, her cheeks hot. -No words had been spoken during the last two hours. -This long silence he was the first to break.</p> - -<p>"You will forgive me, Ruth, won't you?"</p> - -<p>It was too dark to see each other's faces, but this -time had her eyes met his there would be nothing to -conceal. Her anger and her dislike were deep and -sincere. She answered in a low tone, but the tone and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> -manner revealed a repugnance of whose existence -there could be no doubt.</p> - -<p>"Do not speak to me again; ever. Do you hear?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I hear."</p> - -<p>"I mean it."</p> - -<p>With a quivering hand she turned the knob, entered -the house and shut the door behind her.</p> - -<p>That Ruth meant all she said was soon made clear -to Cyrus—very clear indeed. Two days later—after -giving her time to recover—he came to her aunt's -house with a little bouquet of flowers, hopefully gathered -by his own hands in his own garden. With it was -a note, an eloquent little plea for forgiveness, so humble -and so sincere as to soften a heart of granite. He -knocked at the front door, and waited. At last—it -might have been a year that he waited—the door was -opened.</p> - -<p>"Good morning, Stella."</p> - -<p>"Good morning, Cyrus."</p> - -<p>Stella was the daughter of Abner Phillips, the harness -maker, and she and Ruth and Cyrus had been -playmates together in the old days at the red school -house. The little harness business had suffered—even -more than other things—with the decline of Longfields, -and had finally expired. Stella had been out at -service for the last few years. She was an angular -maiden with thin lips and sharp eyes.</p> - -<p>"Will you please take this note and the flowers to -Ruth, Stella, and ask if I can see her?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, of course, won't you come in?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span></p> - -<p>"No, thank you. I'll just wait here."</p> - -<p>On the doorstep he waited, but not long; Stella -quickly returned with the note and the flowers.</p> - -<p>She seemed embarrassed. "Ruth says she—she——"</p> - -<p>"Out with it, Stella."</p> - -<p>"She says she won't see you."</p> - -<p>"Won't see me! Is that just what she said?"</p> - -<p>The maiden hesitated. As a friend of both and -strictly neutral, her position was awkward.</p> - -<p>"Why—yes."</p> - -<p>"Just what did she say, Stella?"</p> - -<p>"She said, give him back his flowers and his note -and tell him not to come again."</p> - -<p>This was clear to the dullest lover. And the words -cut deeper still as he saw in the face of the sharp -eyed ambassadress an impressible gleam of pity—or -exultation—he could not tell which. Cyrus blushed -like a girl. For a moment his drowsy eyes gazed -blindly at Stella, then at the flowers and the note as -if trying to realize what had happened. The effort -was painful. The flowers seemed to be jubilant in -their gayety, and jeering at him. He had believed, -until this moment, that he was prepared for the worst. -He had also believed, from his knowledge of women -in history and fiction that they changed their minds -with ease—in short, that honest lovers never need -despair. This blow seemed to paralyze his senses. -But Pride came to his rescue. It made him realize the -degradation of appearing a fool before Stella. So,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> -collecting his scattered wits he raised his head and -smiled upon the waiting maiden. There was a quivering -of the lip, however, as he said in a manner laboriously -offhand—and, of course, unsuccessful:</p> - -<p>"Oh, well, I must try again. Thank you, Stella. -Good-by."</p> - -<p>As he reached the gate she saw him toss the flowers -to the ground.</p> - -<p>His state of mind as he walked blindly along the -village street, beneath the arching elms, could not -be described in articulate language. Sorrow, anger, -humiliation, all struggled for control. Resignation -was not among them. So Ruth was really in earnest. -If she hated and despised him, why live? This tumult -within, while it numbed his senses—and might lead -to tragedy—provided mirth for others. Just in front -of the store a group of children ran across his path. -They were followed, slowly, by a large Newfoundland -dog, a well-known character in the village. He -officiated, as is customary among dogs, as guardian -and boon companion to children, all of whom he -loved. His name was Major. He belonged to little -Jason Howard, but he was on terms of intimacy with -every child in Longfields. Major happened to stroll -across the sidewalk just in front of Cyrus. The discarded -lover, blind to outward things, collided with -him. Always a gentleman and never forgetting his -manners, Cyrus stopped, and—Ruth being the only -thing in his mind—he raised his cap and bowed politely.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I beg your pardon. It was my fault. Excuse -me."</p> - -<p>And all with a sober face. The children laughed, -supposing Cyrus was being funny for their amusement. -But never in his life had Cyrus felt less like -being funny. Soberly he walked away not even hearing -their laughter.</p> - -<p>After this interview with Major he at once relapsed -into the Cańon of Despair. For his was the -agony of a man of honor who feels he has committed -a disgraceful act, and has lost, for all time, the respect -and good opinion of the being whose affection -he valued above all other things.</p> - -<p>It seemed but a moment after leaving Major that -he found himself standing before two women and saying -"how do you do"—or something equally significant. -With a mighty effort to ignore the past—and -the future—he recognized the two elderly maidens as -Miss Fidelia Allen and Miss Anita Clement. They -had stopped and were passing the time of day with -him. He realized, blindly, that Miss Clement had -opened a book and was telling him about it. Miss -Clement had the faculty of expressing a barren idea -in a wealth of language. So, while the listener's -drowsy—and now dreaming—eyes rested on the -speaker's lips he was seeing, not Miss Clement's face, -but a face more threatening, yet of greater interest. -As to the effect of Miss Clement's well chosen words -on the listener's far away mind, the sound from her -lips might have been the murmuring of pines. And<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> -as for The Only Woman in the world, if other women -had changed their minds why not this one? He recalled -the look in her eyes when——</p> - -<p>"Do tell us what you think of it—just how you feel -about it, Cyrus?"</p> - -<p>As the wild horse of the prairies is suddenly jerked -to earth by a lasso, so came back Cyrus.</p> - -<p>"Oh—oh—very well, indeed, thank you. Never -better."</p> - -<p>"I meant about this new thought from the Orient. -Just how deeply it impresses you. Just where, among -the great thinkers, you would place Rub-a Shah Lagore."</p> - -<p>"That's it exactly! Rubbish galore! Couldn't express -it better. Somebody described all that stuff as -transcendental flim-flam." And he smiled his most -winning smile—a smile of sympathy, of fine intelligence -and a lively interest in the conversation.</p> - -<p>But Miss Clement stiffened a little, and frowned. -"Do you feel that way?"</p> - -<p>"Possibly you don't know Rub-a Shah Lagore," -said Miss Fidelia, more gently.</p> - -<p>"Know him? Oh, yes," said Cyrus. "I know him. -That is, I think I met him. Was it in Cambridge?"</p> - -<p>"I doubt it," said Miss Clement, "as he died about -fifteen hundred."</p> - -<p>"Fifteen hundred!" Cyrus smiled, nodded and tried -to appear at ease. "Still I may have met him in a -previous incarnation."</p> - -<p>Then, apropos of incarnations, Miss Clement discoursed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> -on the Oriental mind, on matters psychic, -philosophic, mystic and occult. And as she talked, -and drifted hither and thither on a sea of words, -Cyrus floated off in his own direction, and was recalling -once again the look in Ruth's eyes—that mingling -of anger and contempt when Miss Clement -again suddenly brought him back to the village street.</p> - -<p>"Don't you think so yourself?"</p> - -<p>Cyrus pulled himself together. "Er—well—perhaps -I don't quite understand you."</p> - -<p>"Do you know of any richer period in human -thought? Any greater age?"</p> - -<p>"Any greater age? No, certainly not. You mean -fifteen hundred years? It certainly beats all records. -That is, of course, all human records. Elephants, -parrots and turtles, I believe, live to a green old age, -but nothing like——"</p> - -<p>Just what happened after that Cyrus did not remember. -He found himself walking home with clear -memories of Ruth, intermingled with blurred but painful -impressions of two maiden ladies, frowning in surprise -and annoyance as they said good-by and turned -away.</p> - -<p>Of one thing only was he certain: that in the utterance -of senseless words he had surpassed all previous -records, ancient or modern.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_316.png" alt="Chapter XVIII image" /> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XVIII - -<span class="ch">THE CAŃON OF DESPAIR</span></h2> - -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="uppercase">As</span> to human wisdom, the best that can be said -is that some of us are less crazy than others. -Also, that the habitually foolish person, he who -is foolish by preference—or by unalterable Fate—is -less disturbing than your usually sensible friend who -suddenly becomes fatuous.</p> - -<p>This was realized by Joanna during the next few -days. Cyrus caused her serious alarm. On his new -and larger air craft he worked with such feverish -haste that he forgot to eat or go to bed until reminded -of those habits. In the matter of eating he seemed -to have lost all memory as to when or how to do it. -He poured tea instead of maple syrup on his rice -cakes; he recognized no difference in flavor between -salt and powdered sugar, marmalade or mustard. Joanna's -strawberry shortcake, the very best in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> -world—and his favorite dish—he regarded with unseeing -eyes and forgot to eat it. His reply to nearly -all her demands for information on whatever subject, -was a smiling "Certainly, of course."</p> - -<p>But these were trifles. In his cup of bitterness there -still were dregs: and sleepless Fate had not forgotten -them. The cup was to be emptied. Late one afternoon, -three days after the rebuff to his note, his flowers -and himself, he was returning from Springfield -alone in his motor. About a mile from Longfields, -where the road ran through some woods, he saw a figure -on ahead, walking toward the village. It was a -female figure, short, slight, erect, and moving with -a light and rather jaunty step. It wore a continental -hat, a white shirt waist and a white skirt. He recognized -this person at first glance, ran his car ahead of -her a short distance, then stopped at the side of the -road, got out and walked back to meet her. This time -there was no elaborate salutation <i>ŕ la Grande Monarch</i>. -It was a simple raising of his cap and a tentative, -humble minded greeting.</p> - -<p>"Good day, Ruth."</p> - -<p>"Good day, Cyrus."</p> - -<p>She smiled, but the smile brought no sunshine to -his heart; a perfunctory smile of duty and good manners, -such as might have greeted any other human animal. -And as she stood there, against the dark background -of the woods, calm, cold, beautiful, and oh! -so far away!—he saw aversion in her face and in -every line of the rigid little figure.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span></p> - -<p>In a low, uncertain voice he spoke. "So you will -never forgive me?"</p> - -<p>For a moment she looked away, beyond him, along -the road toward the village. "I forgive you a great -deal. I forgive your taking me by force and against -my will from a welcome refuge where I was looking -forward to a peaceful, happy life. But the greater -wrong you have done me, the irreparable injury—that -is harder to forgive."</p> - -<p>"Irreparable injury? What do you mean, Ruth?"</p> - -<p>Her eyebrows went up. "Indeed! You really do -not know what I mean?"</p> - -<p>"On my honor I do not."</p> - -<p>"I mean my reputation—the loss of my good name."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Ruth! Why you—oh—don't say that!"</p> - -<p>Calmly, but with an obvious effort at self control -she answered:</p> - -<p>"Do you think there is no gossip in Longfields, no -comment on my unexpected arrival? Do you think -an unmarried woman can travel about the world alone -with a young man as I did, and keep her good name?"</p> - -<p>"I never thought of it—in that way. On my honor—I -did not."</p> - -<p>"Do you know of any other respectable young -woman of your acquaintance who has done anything -like it?"</p> - -<p>"But it was all my doing. You couldn't help it. -Don't they all know that?"</p> - -<p>"No. Why should they know it? Will they believe -that you, whom they have known from boyhood,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> -whom they respect and like, would carry me off by -force, entirely against my will?" Then with a bitter -little laugh: "Oh, no! They are not so simple! And -some woman has started a story that we——" Her -face became crimson and she covered it for a moment -with her hands—"Oh, I can't bear to think of it."</p> - -<p>Cyrus closed his eyes. His head drooped. "I never -thought of all that. I was stupid. I can see it now. -I don't blame you for hating me."</p> - -<p>Ruth went on, speaking with nervous haste. "A -pleasanter bit of scandal never happened in this village. -I could not bear to live here. It would kill me -to live here."</p> - -<p>"You are not going away!"</p> - -<p>"Indeed I am!"</p> - -<p>"Where?"</p> - -<p>"To Worcester, to earn my living as a nurse."</p> - -<p>"Listen, Ruth. Let me do something, no matter -what. Let me take you, or send you back to the -Convent."</p> - -<p>"The Convent! The Convent!" she repeated, and -her cheeks reddened. "Do you think the Convent a -refuge for women who leave it as I did?—for women -who elope with—oh! It's for better women than -that! They would never allow me within its gates."</p> - -<p>"Then let me atone in some way."</p> - -<p>"Indeed! And how?"</p> - -<p>"In any way you say—there's all my money—take -some of it—all of it. Not as a gift, but in some business -way. Let me buy something at a——"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Clever thought! Regild my reputation with Cyrus -Alton's money!"</p> - -<p>"Then marry me. Be my wife, only in name. I -swear to you—I—will never see you if you wish it. -Or—or trouble you in any way. Only let me do something. -I had no idea of—of what—of what all this -meant to you."</p> - -<p>"Your wife!" she laughed a scornful, tragic, broken-hearted -little laugh. "Never in this world. Never! -Never that!"</p> - -<p>She turned and walked away.</p> - -<p>He walked beside her. "Please listen. I will do -anything you say. I know I deserve it all, but that -afternoon at the convent I was not myself. After -what happened I was all wrought up. My brain——"</p> - -<p>She stopped, turned about and faced him.</p> - -<p>"Yes, there is one thing you can do. Leave me now. -And let us not be seen together again—ever."</p> - -<p>For a brief moment they stood confronting each -other. And Cyrus looked deep into the eyes that once -had been his guiding stars; the friendly eyes in whose -depths his boy heart had sought—and never in vain—encouragement, -or consolation. Now, he was finding -in their contemptuous beauty only the cold ashes -of their childhood devotion.</p> - -<p>Then, once more, she turned her back upon him. -Erect and with decisive steps, the little figure departed. -He stood watching her as she walked—walking out of -his life. In his brain and in his heart was a numbing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> -pain—the knowledge that his highest hopes were dead—killed, -and by himself!</p> - -<p>There and there he made a decision, a decision of -vital import to himself. And why not? Who in the -world, except Joanna would mourn, or even miss him? -If there be such a thing as consolation when hope is -dead, he found it in a great resolve.</p> - -<p>As he passed her in his car he raised his cap and -murmured</p> - -<p class="center"> -"<i>Morituri te salutamus</i>."<br /> -</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_322.png" alt="Chapter XIX image" /> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XIX - -<span class="ch">A YOUNG MAN TALKS</span></h2> - -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="uppercase">Ruth</span> was in earnest when she told Cyrus of her -intention to become a nurse. Some experience -in that line, while in Europe, had fitted her for -the work and she found little difficulty in securing a -position in a Worcester Hospital. Possibly her prepossessing -appearance was a help. The Superintendent, -being human, was not immune, perhaps, to the -influence of an interesting personality, especially in -combination with an attractive face and voice and -figure.</p> - -<p>After this interview at the hospital, about the middle -of the day, she took a return train for Springfield.</p> - -<p>When she entered the car at the Worcester Station, -and found a vacant seat, she gave no special -attention to the two men in the seat just behind her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> -own. She merely noticed that the carefully dressed -young man nearest the aisle had an intelligent wide -awake face, and that his companion—next the window—was -suffering from a cold in the head of aggravated -dimensions. His aqueous eyes and swollen -nose, his sneezes and his busy handkerchief told the -familiar and unromantic drama of a mucous membrane -at war with its owner.</p> - -<p>The weather this day—a week or so after the -interview with Cyrus—was cloudy, damp and otherwise -depressing. She felt, of course, gratification in -the success of her mission at the hospital. Her -thoughts, however, were not entirely rosy as she looked -from the car window on this homeward journey, gazing -absently on the sunless landscape. She had much -to think about, and often, during this little journey -from Worcester she tried vainly to escape from unwelcome -memories. At the mention of a familiar -name, however, these wandering thoughts were centered -suddenly on the conversation of the two men -in the seat behind her.</p> - -<p>"Alton, Cyrus Alton. Guess you've met him."</p> - -<p>"Yez, I thig zo. Kide of sleeby eyes, hasn'd he?"</p> - -<p>"Yep. His eyes are sleepy, but, gee whiz! He does -things."</p> - -<p>"Whad thigs?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, anything—if it's impossible."</p> - -<p>"Didn'd he bake a lod of bunny all of a zudden?"</p> - -<p>"Bet your life he did! Made it while you wait."</p> - -<p>"How budge?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span></p> - -<p>"God knows."</p> - -<p>"How did he do id?"</p> - -<p>"God knows that too:—He and Alton. You can -hear anything. Some say a rich widow, others, a pirate's -cave. Perhaps it's just a friendly tip from his -Partner."</p> - -<p>"Who is his bardner?"</p> - -<p>"The Almighty."</p> - -<p>"You bead he is bious?"</p> - -<p>"Nixy not! He's a scientist, and science and piety -don't seem to cuddle much. He has discovered—or -his Big Partner has told him—some secret of electricity -that is just the humpingest thing out of jail. -It's going to revolutionize the whole human outfit; -business, travel, transportation. As to little -things like manufactures in peace and wholesale destruction -in war, why, we've got to begin all over -again. You just can't digest it. And it's so simple -that you laugh when you think of it."</p> - -<p>"Doe! Really?"</p> - -<p>"Yep; that's no exaggeration."</p> - -<p>"Thad's inderesdig. I have heard vague rubers -aboud id bud nothing like thad. Just whad is id?"</p> - -<p>"Just what is it. Well, that's an easy question to -ask. When he blabs his secret then we'll all know. -But he says it's so simple that it's sure to be discovered -some day."</p> - -<p>"I spoze you doe him breddy well."</p> - -<p>"Yep, in a way. He orders his electric stuff through -us. A year ago when he was so poor he used to foot<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> -it to save trolley fare the boss trusted him for twelve -hundreds dollars' worth of radium."</p> - -<p>"Good for the boss! He was a zpord. Did he ever -get his bunny bag?"</p> - -<p>"Twice over. Oh, Alton didn't forget it. He's as -straight as a string."</p> - -<p>"Well, he bay be all ride in sub ways bud he busd -be jusd aboud grazy to sdard on thad jourdy."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I dunno. He has done some big stunts already. -And he's pretty level headed."</p> - -<p>"Yez, bud id seebs like suizide to be. How var -away is Bars, eddyway?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, just a step. I believe the astronomers call it -about forty-eight millions of miles."</p> - -<p>"Vorty-eight billions of biles? Whew!"</p> - -<p>"No, forty-eight millions—not billions."</p> - -<p>The Rose Cold tried to laugh. "Yez I doe id iz—but -with thiz invernal drouble I gan'd prodounce by -ebs."</p> - -<p>"Of course; beg your pardon."</p> - -<p>"Thad's all ride. But dell be, is he really goig to -dry vor id?"</p> - -<p>"Sure thing. He may have started already."</p> - -<p>Here both men noticed in a careless way, a movement -of the shoulders of the girl in front of them -when a hand went nervously to her face. And it so -happened that the Rose Cold's next words were the -expression of her own thoughts when he said:</p> - -<p>"The bad's a vool!"</p> - -<p>"No," said the younger man; "he's not a fool. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> -has done a lot of figuring over it,—and experimenting. -You see his machine is too good to be true. It can -shoot through space at the same rate as electric waves, -or waves of light."</p> - -<p>"And how vasd is thad?"</p> - -<p>"About a hundred and eighty thousand miles a -second."</p> - -<p>"Doe!"</p> - -<p>"Yep."</p> - -<p>"And you really believe id?"</p> - -<p>"Sure."</p> - -<p>"Id's sibly imbossible."</p> - -<p>"I don't blame you for thinking so. But that's just -why Alton likes it. If it was possible it wouldn't -interest him. Miracles are his daily food. Gad, he's -a wonder!"</p> - -<p>"A hundred and eighty thouzand biles a zegond! -Doe—thad's doo buch vor bee."</p> - -<p>"No wonder you don't believe it. It surely is going -some. Beats oxen."</p> - -<p>"Aboud how log would id taig him to ged there -ad thad rade?"</p> - -<p>Here came a silence while the younger man did -some figuring. "About five seconds. But of course -no human being, even in an air-tight cylinder, could -keep his head—or anything else, at that rate. He allows -about twelve hours to get there."</p> - -<p>"Dwelve hours! Vorty-eight billion biles in twelve -hours! Why zo zlow?"</p> - -<p>"Well, he's got to go slow through the six or seven<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> -miles of our atmosphere. Then, he doesn't know what -sort of atmosphere surrounds Mars. So that'll take -time like entering an unknown harbor. To be really -safe he'll have to jog along slowly—on an average of -four or five million miles an hour."</p> - -<p>The Rose Cold laughed. "Beads vairy dales, -doesn'd id?"</p> - -<p>"To a frazzle."</p> - -<p>"But the bravesd bad in the world gan'd go all day -withoud breathig."</p> - -<p>"True enough. But Alton has the same system of -oxygen cylinders as the U-boats—only better. More -condensed and lasts longer. Uses same air more times -without deteriorating."</p> - -<p>"Well, whadever habbens, he busd be glever."</p> - -<p>"Clever! He beats the devil."</p> - -<p>"Will he ever gum bag, Jibby?"</p> - -<p>"Dunno."</p> - -<p>"I subbose the gradest danger is in being hid by a -medeoride. I understand those rogs are always -shoodig about in spaze."</p> - -<p>"Yep; and all the way in size from a liver pill to a -state house. But that isn't what'll knock him out."</p> - -<p>"Berhabs dod, bud I shouldn'd gare do be there iv -one habbened to hid him."</p> - -<p>"Right you are. He'd have about as much show as -a bottle of ginger ale colliding with a locomotive. But -astronomers say they are not so very numerous. What -he's most afraid of himself is some sudden electric -disturbance in his own machine that will put his own<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> -nervous system out of commission. You see nobody -really knows what is going on in space. And if his -nerves or lungs or brain go back on him, in anyway—Ping!—he's -a goner."</p> - -<p>After a pause the Rose Cold spoke in a more serious -tone.</p> - -<p>"Well, I taig off my had to him. It's a big thig, -thad zord of gourage."</p> - -<p>"I should say! And he knows himself there isn't -one chance in a hundred of his ever touching this little -earth again."</p> - -<p>Here the attention of both men was drawn to the -girl in front of them, who suddenly started from -her seat—with both hands pressed hard against her -face. She stood for a moment as if in pain, or under -some mental disturbance. Then, sinking back into her -seat, she appeared to be looking quietly out of the window -during the short remainder of the journey. -Although her action caused them no further interest, -nor curiosity, it served to divert their talk from Cyrus -Alton—a subject apparently exhausted—to other matters -of no interest to Ruth Heywood.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_329.png" alt="Chapter XX image" /> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XX - -<span class="ch">ANOTHER MESSAGE</span></h2> - -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="uppercase">When</span> Ruth left the train and took the stage -for Longfields her spirit was in revolt—in -revolt against herself, against Cyrus and -against the progress of the vehicle. But any vehicle, -however fast, would have been too slow on that afternoon. -She left the conveyance at Cyrus Alton's -driveway. This was her first visit to the Alton's home -since her sudden departure, so many years ago. And -now, as she walked toward the house, almost every -foot of ground, every object in the spacious yard, the -old maples and the house itself, seemed accusing her -of treason and of heartless murder. From every side, -however, came pleasant memories of bygone days,—like -flowers in a forsaken garden. And all of Cyrus! -Never was a yard so full of history. And now that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> -Cyrus was gone—gone forever, driven from the world -by her own cruelty,—her over sensitive spirit writhed -beneath the stings of conscience. Every recollection -seemed to increase her guilt. Hardest to bear, in all -this vista of the past, was the clear, undying fact that -the cherubic, sleepy eyed little boy always stood between -herself and trouble.</p> - -<p>These memories overwhelmed her. There was the -old maple in whose shade she and Drowsy played keeping -house. They pretended Zac was President of the -United States who had dropped in for dinner. Only -gingerbread and sour grapes were served and Drowsy -gave her the biggest half of the gingerbread because -she, also, was a guest. Zac, always loyal, ate one or -two of the green grapes just because Cyrus did. And -the stone wall that saved their lives;—at least, she -thought so when Mr. Randall's horse came snorting -toward them across the field, on the other side. He -seemed close at their heels when Cyrus boosted her up -and pushed her over before he climbed up himself. -He pushed so hard—against that part of the body on -which we sit—that she landed on her face, and the -short, stiff blades of grass that had just been mowed, -cut the inside of her nose. She tried to smile as she -remembered, with a gulp, that although he was badly -scared himself he was the last to climb over the wall. -Yes, he always gave her first chance at everything—in -peace or war!</p> - -<p>And there the well, where she and Susie Jordan had -a quarrel one Sunday after Church, and Susie threw<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> -a dipperful of water on Ruth's head. It spoiled her -new hat and she burst into tears. Then Cyrus walked -up to Susie—Ruth could see him now as if it were yesterday—made -one of his lowest bows, as if to apologize -in advance, then slapped her hard on both cheeks. -After slapping her he backed away a few steps and -made yet another profound obeisance, as a judge, after -performing a painful duty, might salute a prisoner of -high degree.</p> - -<p>But now she was in too great haste to linger long -over memories, or anything else. She hurried on to -the house. Tearful, smiling, but on the very edge of -sobs, she rang the door bell. Too impatient to wait -she entered and walked into the sitting room. The -same old sitting room, and changed but little since she -saw it last. On the walls the same green paper, just -a little more faded, perhaps, at certain places where the -morning sun had loitered. Almost covering the center -table were books, papers and magazines.</p> - -<p>Joanna entered. The greetings were cordial. Then, -for a few moments they sat facing each other, Ruth -in an arm chair, Joanna on the old sofa.</p> - -<p>In a casual way, Ruth remarked:</p> - -<p>"I suppose Cyrus is out in the old barn, hard at -work on his new machine."</p> - -<p>"Not now. It is all finished."</p> - -<p>"Is it there now,—the machine?"</p> - -<p>"No, he went away in it."</p> - -<p>"When did he go?"</p> - -<p>"Last night."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Where has he gone?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know."</p> - -<p>Ruth leaned back in her chair and the color left her -face.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Miss Ruth, are you ill?"</p> - -<p>"No, no! I am not ill. But didn't he say when -he was coming back?"</p> - -<p>"He said he might not be back for some days. But -he has often done that."</p> - -<p>Ruth suddenly jumped from her chair, began walking -about the room, and exclaimed:</p> - -<p>"He's a contemptible thing!"</p> - -<p>"Not Cyrus?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, Cyrus. And what a fool! Oh, what a fool!"</p> - -<p>Into Joanna's placid, serious face came a look of -amazement.</p> - -<p>"You don't mean to say, Miss Ruth, that, Cyrus—is -a—contemptible—thing and—and a fool!"</p> - -<p>"That's just exactly what I mean. He's a fool—a -contemptible, weak, half-hearted, easily discouraged, -stupid fool!"</p> - -<p>Ruth was clearly excited. She spoke rapidly and -with vehemence, marching to and fro as if lashed -to fury by some strange obsession. As Joanna -watched the little figure she could hardly believe that -this was the ever gentle Ruth Heywood of her acquaintance.</p> - -<p>Ruth went on: "Not a speck of perseverance! -And what a coward! I never suspected he was such -a hopeless coward!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Cyrus a coward! Oh, but—Miss Ruth, you -really——"</p> - -<p>"Of course he's a coward! Why has he run away? -Do brave men run away? No. Cowards run away. -A mean, contemptible thing. That covers it. A contemptible -cowardly act by a contemptible, cowardly -man. And so ungrateful! Even as a boy he was ungrateful."</p> - -<p>Now, to Joanna, who had known Cyrus intimately -since the age of seven, he was the one perfect thing -in creation. Morally he was an example for the angels; -mentally the wonder of the age. So, being a -somewhat literal person, these words came like stabs -from a dagger and struck deep into her own heart. -But she answered—more in sadness than in anger:</p> - -<p>"I really can't imagine anybody thinking Cyrus ungrateful."</p> - -<p>"Well, I do! He has no real love for anybody but -himself. He thinks only of himself; only of himself!"</p> - -<p>"Why, Miss Ruth, when Mrs. Eagan was laid up -for nearly a whole summer, years ago, Cyrus took her -a bowl of ice cream himself, every Sunday, after our -own dinner. We had ice cream once a week. He -was nothing but a boy then, but he——"</p> - -<p>"Of course he did! Why not? Any boy would -carry ice cream—just for the sake of holding it."</p> - -<p>Joanna shook her head. "No. All boys are not -like that."</p> - -<p>Here Ruth turned fiercely upon her. "And how do -you know he did? He probably ate it himself before<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span> -he got to Mrs. Eagan's. He would tell you he didn't, -of course. He's an awful liar and always was. You -know that, Joanna, as well as I do."</p> - -<p>"Liar! No, no, Miss Ruth! You don't know him. -He got entirely over that, years ago. He's as truthful -as anybody. Long ago, before he went away to -school, his father made him ashamed of his lies -and——"</p> - -<p>"Oh, for a time perhaps! Bad boys don't become -good over night."</p> - -<p>"But, Miss Ruth, please listen. You only knew him -when you were both very young. He really cured -himself. He has not lied since. He was too young -to know better. But even with his lying he was -always a good boy."</p> - -<p>"A good boy! Ha! He was not a good boy. I -knew him better than you did. He was like all other -boys and no boys are good. They are nothing but -little pirates, prize fighters, screaming, noisy Indians, -because they are savages themselves. They have no -honor. They worship criminals and always want the -criminal to escape, because they are criminals themselves. -And Cyrus was just like the others. Good -indeed! He was always evil minded."</p> - -<p>"Evil minded! Cyrus evil minded!"</p> - -<p>Ruth stopped, and stood before Joanna. "I tell you -he's bad—just bad. As a boy he was bad, as a man -he is bad—treacherous, cowardly, mean spirited and -absolutely dishonorable. And that's why I hate him!"</p> - -<p>For a moment, with angry eyes and quivering lips<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> -she stood looking down into the other woman's puzzled -face. Then, dropping to her knees, she buried -her face in Joanna's lap.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I am so unhappy! So unhappy! Let me die!"</p> - -<p>Joanna understood. Although unemotional herself -she knew how to sympathize with the passion torn -woman at her knees. Her own calm spirit and soothing -words had their effect, and Ruth was soon herself -again.</p> - -<p>"And now, dearie," said Joanna, "I am going to -bring you a cup of tea."</p> - -<p>Alone in the green sitting room Ruth seated herself -beside the center table. This table held, with other -things, several books and papers, one or two mechanical -drawings, some magazines and books. One of -these books was lying open, just before her. A paragraph -at the top of one of the open pages was marked -in pencil. Being a scientific book Cyrus must have -marked it. At that moment any thought of interest -to him appealed to Ruth as something sanctified by his -absence, a special message to herself. Besides, that -the book should be lying open at this particular page -seemed to her over wrought spirit as if placed there by -Cyrus himself for her to read.</p> - -<p>Had she stopped to think she would have known the -open book was accidental, as she was the last person -whom Cyrus could expect to visit him. But Fate and -Providence do stranger things than fiction dares invent.</p> - -<p>Carefully she read the marked passage, in a reverent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> -spirit, as she would read a farewell message from a departed -friend. It said:</p> - -<p>"All sounds from earth are drifting forever into -space. A strain of music will reach, in time, the most -distant star. The music of the spheres is not an -empty phrase. We know that wherever light will -travel those waves that carry light through space will -carry sound. Messages from other planets, for all we -know, are reaching us to-day, but we are not attuned -to hear them. Our own little song, or prayer, may -reach the farthest star, but for its reception the sender -and recipient must be in true accord."</p> - -<p>With quivering hands she clutched the book, held it -up before her eyes, and read the words again. Then -she dropped the book upon the table and started up. -In her eyes was a new light.</p> - -<p>"But for its reception," she repeated, "the sender -and recipient must be in true accord!"</p> - -<p>In true accord! Yes, she and Drowsy were in true -accord, even as children. If there was one person in -this world specially endowed by Providence to receive -such a message, surely it was Drowsy; he who received -even the unspoken thoughts of others! She recalled -her wonderment as a child when her whispered message -was understood by him, at his own home, nearly -a mile away. It seemed to her then,—and now—a -supernatural gift. And if this author were correct -no distance, however vast, would be an obstacle.</p> - -<p>When Joanna returned with the tea she found her -patient again in a state of excitement, but excitement<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> -of another kind. This time it was the thrill of a new -hope; the exhilaration of a great joy.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Late that night, when this world—and other worlds, -it seemed—were silent, Ruth went out into the darkness. -Down at the further end of the long garden, -she stood, for a time, looking up into the heavens. -The storm had passed. Slowly, from the west, great -clouds were drifting across a black but starry sky. -She shuddered at the thought of a human being far -out in that frigid, infinite waste, a helpless wanderer,—dead -perhaps,—and driven by her own act!</p> - -<p>Her eyes sought vainly to delve into the solemn -spaces between the stars. Who could believe a human -voice or a thought could penetrate those black, appalling -depths? But she remembered the sentence,</p> - -<p>"All sounds from earth are drifting forever into -space."</p> - -<p>Then, looking up toward the ruddy planet, and putting -her one absorbing thought into fewest words, she -said in a low voice, but clearly spoken:</p> - -<p>"Cyrus, come back. I have always loved you."</p> - -<p>Three times she repeated it; and each time with an -overflowing heart.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>If, among the undiscovered forces between other -worlds and ours, there moves, like waves of light, a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span> -psychic power intensified by human love, repentance -and devotion, then this woman's message should reach -the uttermost limits of celestial space. Her very soul -was in it.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_339.png" alt="Chapter XXI image" /> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XXI - -<span class="ch">ABOVE THE CLOUDS</span></h2> - -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="uppercase">Ruth's</span> first night on duty at the hospital, ten -days later, was eventful.</p> - -<p>She had the care of two patients, each in a -room by himself, with an open door between. One -of these patients was a man with a broken arm, a displaced -rib, a bandaged head and wandering brain. He -made no trouble and was perfectly quiet, except an -occasional mumbling to himself.</p> - -<p>The other patient, the one who appealed more -strongly to her sympathies, was a boy about fifteen. -Both legs had been broken in an automobile collision -and he was suffering from internal injuries. In spite -of constant pain his courage never weakened. He -was always in good spirits and trying his best to smile.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span> -His gratitude for any attention went straight to the -heart of his nurse:—"That pretty little nurse with the -sad face" as one surgeon described her.</p> - -<p>Ruth was much impressed by Dr. Gladwin, a tall, -heavy man, with a bushy head of the whitest hair. His -eyes were threatening, his glance warlike, all in amusing -contrast, however, to his friendly, cheerful voice, -his gentle manners and his unfailing sympathy. He -said to her that evening, after giving his instructions:</p> - -<p>"We have not been able to define precisely this boy's -injuries. The constant pain about his chest is a bad -sign, but we are hoping for the best. His legs will be -as good as ever."</p> - -<p>While these words were spoken Ruth looked across -the room toward the patient. His eyes were closed. -The round boyish face was drawn with pain. At that -moment his eyes opened and he returned Ruth's look -with a smile. It was a smile of friendliness and courage, -the resolute, pathetic courage of youth clinging -to life. The look itself and the tale it told brought a -sudden moistness to the eyes of the new nurse. Then -she followed Dr. Gladwin into the adjoining room.</p> - -<p>Standing by the bedside of the other patient she -looked down upon a man whose eyes were partly covered -by the bandage about his head. The pale face had -the somewhat disreputable appearance that goes with -a scrubby, unshaven chin.</p> - -<p>"This man," said the doctor, "has, as you know, a -broken arm and rib, with an injury to his head. He -remains unconscious. The first few days he made<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span> -no effort to speak. But now he murmurs something -at intervals; always the same words, I am told. The -effort to speak is a favorable sign in this case, as it -indicates a returning memory. He will probably recover."</p> - -<p>A few further instructions as to her own duties, and -he departed.</p> - -<p>Ruth found the boy more greedy for companionship -than the unconscious patient—which was not surprising. -No human being could be braver than this boy. -Yearning for sympathy he liked to have his hand held -by this new nurse. As the night wore on he told her -in a fragmentary way, between periods of pain, of his -parents in San Francisco, of his ambitions, if he ever -recovered. He also gave details of his accident last -Saturday, just how he was thrown from the motor -when they collided with the other car.</p> - -<p>But the new nurse did not neglect the less interesting -patient in the next room. He seemed like one in -a deep, unending sleep, except for the occasional smile -that came to his lips and the muttered words—whatever -they were.</p> - -<p>About two o'clock in the morning the boy closed -his eyes and he, also, slept. Ruth arranged the covering -about his neck and shoulders then stepped gently -into the adjoining room. For a moment she stood at -the bedside of the unconscious man with the scrubby -chin. He lay motionless, and in a slumber so deep, -so silent, that it seemed to Ruth he could easily pass -away and none be wiser. Then, for a time, she stood<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> -at the open window, looking out into the peaceful -summer night and up at the stars. Her thoughts, -when alone these days, were always in the past, and -they were heart breaking. To-night, even the rising -moon, although in its fullest beauty, seemed a perfect -symbol of her own future—a world of dust and ashes.</p> - -<p>At last, with a sigh of resignation—a sigh of despair -and buried hopes—she left the window. Again -she stood beside the unconscious and less interesting -patient; he of the bandaged head and scrubby chin. -As she was turning away she noticed a movement of -his lips—the beginning of the periodic smile. She felt -a sudden curiosity to hear the coming words. If, as the -doctor said, they were always the same, they might be -a message he had wished to send, important to wife or -parents, that could lead to his identification. Besides -she had a strong desire to learn what words or what -thought behind the words—could bring so much happiness, -even momentarily, to a half conscious spirit.</p> - -<p>The light in the room, while softened by shades, was -clear enough to reveal the uncovered portion of his -face. And, as she looked more carefully, the face was -less "common" than she had judged from the unshaven -chin. She leaned over the bed, her face not -far from his, and listened. Through the open window -came no sound from the sleeping city; only the -pale light from the rising moon; that cold, dead -world of dust and ashes. It may have been the -solitude and the silence of the hour that brought to -Ruth a feeling of awe—almost of guilt at this intrusion<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span> -upon the privacy of another's thoughts; secrets, -perhaps, of a defenseless brain. As she was wondering -what sort of accident had brought him there the -blissful smile became more pronounced. Although -his eyes were partly covered by the overhanging bandage -it was clear that the dormant spirit within was -stirred by memories of a supreme happiness, of a transcendent -joy that no physical pain could extinguish.</p> - -<p>Further still she bent over, until her face was near -his own.</p> - -<p>Then, through every nerve of brain and body, she -felt a sensation of mingled awe, of terror, of bewilderment, -as if she were suddenly in touch with another -world, when she heard, hardly above a whisper:</p> - -<p>"Cyrus, come back. I have—always—loved you."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Breathless, as in a trance, Ruth gazed at the lips, -where lingered—but slowly fading, as if reluctant to -pass away—the expression of a great content. The -brief liberty of a rapturous thought. Then back into -the darkness.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Needless to say that Cyrus Alton was not neglected -during his convalescence. And Dr. Gladwin's prophecy -was correct. Cyrus not only recovered but his recovery, -after once regaining consciousness, was surprisingly -rapid. So rapid that the "little nurse with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span> -sad face" threw aside her sadness, as if waking from -a dream, and became the happiest and most inspiriting -person in her vicinity.</p> - -<p>On a certain afternoon, when the convalescent was -first allowed to talk as much as he wished, he told his -story. And no better audience could be desired than -the one then seated on the bed beside him, and quite -near the speaker—perhaps to save him the effort of -raising his voice. The day was warm, the windows -open. Faintly through the closed blinds came the -murmur of the city, from beyond the spacious grounds -of the hospital.</p> - -<p>The story was simply told. He started at night for -the red planet. He got there and he landed. The air -seemed much like ours. But he found himself in a -world quite different from his own. All was architecture; -temples, towers and enormous viaducts fading -away into the horizon, as far as the eye could see. -And everything was tall and slender. The trees were -very high with branches pointing upward like poplars, -and always formally laid out in avenues, or in geometric -patterns. And the color! It was like looking at an -endless city through orange glasses. The few people -he saw had larger heads than ours, more like children, -but like children with very short legs. They were surprisingly -light on their feet. He was surprised at their -high jumps until he remembered that a man who -weighs two hundred pounds on the earth weighs but -seventy-five pounds on Mars. He really saw but little, -however, for although he had tested the atmosphere he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span> -found, after looking about him a moment, that the air, -while pleasant enough to breath, was affecting his -nerves and brain, almost like laughing gas. Then, -as he stood there, and began to realize his danger, the -wonderful thing happened!</p> - -<p>Like a soft whisper it came to his ears; gently but -clearly, the words that made him forget the things -about him,—and all else, for that matter. He thought, -at first, the lighter air was affecting his nerves and -exciting his imagination; that his own brain was fooling -him. For he knew, or thought he knew, that such -a thing was impossible. But as he stood there, wondering, -hoping, trying hard to believe it might be possible, -the message came again, in the same words. Then he -knew it was no delusion. He knew it was no invention -of his own, nor the cry from his own heart of its one -desire.</p> - -<p>"And, oh, Ruthy, it was the best news that ever -came to that planet!"</p> - -<p>After various remarks of a not impersonal nature -from his audience, he continued:</p> - -<p>"And to think of its getting there! I knew it was -possible, theoretically, but I didn't really believe it. -Three times it came. Then I wasted no more time in -wondering. I clambered back into the machine. Foreign -countries had no further interest for me!</p> - -<p>"Foreign countries indeed!" and Ruth closed her eyes, -and shuddered.</p> - -<p>"Well," the traveler continued, "I reached home at -night, as you know."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Reached home!"</p> - -<p>He laughed. "That shows how relative all things -are, doesn't it? By home I meant the Earth. I -traveled as fast as I dared for I wanted to meet somebody -at Longfields. Instead of coming down over -North America I found I was sailing up over the -Eastern coast of Africa. When at last I struck Massachusetts, -I met a thunderstorm. Any fool would know -better than to stay out in it, but I was in a hurry to get -to Longfields—where I had important business—and I -took a chance. I was nearing Worcester when the -storm struck me I had run into it, not realizing how -fast I was going."</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes—go on!"</p> - -<p>"Well, I shall never know just what happened. I -don't even know what became of the machine. The -next thing I did know I was in this bed, and you beside -it. Until you spoke to me and I heard your voice -I believed I was dreaming."</p> - -<p>"What do you think did happen, Drowsy?"</p> - -<p>"I think a touch of lightning, an electric shock of -some kind, knocked me silly, burst the door open and -sent me heels over head out of the falling machine."</p> - -<p>Then Ruth told him how he was found in a field, the -ground, not far away, all dug up, a big tree splintered -and a stone wall torn to pieces.</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes—it probably took a run for a high jump, -went off into space and is now about a thousand billion -miles the other side of Neptune."</p> - -<p>"Thank heaven, it's gone!" exclaimed Ruth. And<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span> -obeying a sudden impulse she leaned over and kissed -the happy man.</p> - -<p>At that moment Dr. Gladwin entered from the adjoining -room. Quickly Ruth straightened up and -backed away, her cheeks redder than roses.</p> - -<p>The old doctor laughed, his face aglow with a boyish -delight. "Don't let me interrupt, for that's what -makes the world go round. Doesn't it, Mr. Alton?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, Doctor. It always has and it will, forever -and forever."</p> - -<p>"True, indeed! And how far above science, electrical, -medical and any other kind, or any human invention—even -yours."</p> - -<p>"There's no comparison," said the smiling patient.</p> - -<p>"And what a heaven-sent cure for a damaged head -and arm and ribs!"</p> - -<p>"And a damaged heart," said Cyrus, waving a hand -toward the rosy Ruth. "It's more than a cure. It's -a continuous miracle!"</p> - -<p>Here the much embarrassed Ruth interrupted: -"Please don't think, Dr. Gladwin, that——"</p> - -<p>"That you treat other patients as kindly? Oh, -never!"</p> - -<p>"God forbid!" exclaimed Cyrus.</p> - -<p>"I want you to know," Ruth persisted, "that in September -there is to be a——"</p> - -<p>Dr. Gladwin nodded. "Wedding. Yes, I knew it."</p> - -<p>"You knew it!"</p> - -<p>"Several days ago."</p> - -<p>"Why, who told you?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span></p> - -<p>"You both told me."</p> - -<p>"We both told you!" exclaimed nurse and patient -as they stared first at each other, then at the doctor.</p> - -<p>"Some days ago," said Dr. Gladwin, with a serious -face and impressive manner, "a certain nurse was -waiting for me at my office—early in the morning. -She told me she had discovered the identity of a certain -patient. Her voice was tremulous. One hand -she pressed tight against her heart to silence its beating. -She knew, as I did, that loud reverberations -might awaken sleeping neighbors. She had eyes. -Possibly you have noticed those eyes, Mr. Alton."</p> - -<p>"I live in them," said Cyrus.</p> - -<p>"Well, deep, down deep within those eyes I could -see the Thing that makes the world go round; the tender, -unchanging glow that is life to a broken lover."</p> - -<p>Here Cyrus smiled, nodded, gulped, started to say -something and gave it up.</p> - -<p>Dr. Gladwin continued. "She did not tell me she -hoped that particular patient would recover. She told -me he <i>must</i> recover. She made it clear that nothing -in this world, or in any other world, was to be considered -until that young man was out of danger."</p> - -<p>"Oh, how can you make fun of me!" protested -Ruth.</p> - -<p>"Make fun of you! Make fun of the most sacred -thing in human life!"</p> - -<p>"No, Ruth," said Cyrus, "he is not making fun of -you. He is simply reciting the most beautiful of all -earthly poems."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Yes, he speaks truly," said the doctor: "the oldest -in the world yet always young. An entrancing poem, -containing also the secret of the young man with the -broken head. But he hides his secret in a louder way. -He sings it to any listener—and all day long."</p> - -<p>"Oh, come now," from Cyrus. "I say, Doctor, -you——"</p> - -<p>Ruth laughed. "Don't interrupt. Please go right -on, Doctor. It's just lovely!"</p> - -<p>Dr. Gladwin obeyed. "Metaphorically he engages -an auditorium and a military band to announce the -coming tidings. Then, to the assembled multitude, he -shouts the joyful secret. But when alone with me, -those public methods are not necessary. If I mention, -in a casual way, the nurse with the eloquent eyes, -the color rushes into his pale face, his lips quiver, his -eyes become moist and his pulse jumps and dances like -a thing possessed."</p> - -<p>Cyrus laughed and leaned back against his pillow. -"Yes and ten times more so when I'm in her presence -and can see her."</p> - -<p>"Of course," said Dr. Gladwin, "a healthy, normal -habit. Long life to it! There's no better way to impart -the ever welcome tidings 'I am in love, and she's -mine!' But what a tonic, this carefully guarded secret! -Never, since the world began was cure so swift."</p> - -<p>Then, in a more serious tone, but with his friendly -smile:</p> - -<p>"And all deserved! To both of you has come the -high reward of Courage and Devotion."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span></p> - -<p>Ruth returned his smile, the color still in her cheeks.</p> - -<p>Cyrus closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of fathomless -content.</p> - -<p>"It all seems too good to be true," he murmured.</p> - - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/i_350.png" alt="The End" /> -</div> - -<p> </p> -<p> </p> -<hr class="chap" /> -<p> </p> -<p> </p> - -<div class="tnote"> -<p class="tntitle">Transcriber's Note:</p> - -<p>Punctuation and possible typographical errors have been corrected.</p> - -<p>Archaic and variable spelling, including hyphenation, has been preserved.</p> - -</div> - -<p> </p> -<p> </p> -<hr class="full" /> -<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DROWSY***</p> -<p>******* This file should be named 53802-h.htm or 53802-h.zip *******</p> -<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> -<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/5/3/8/0/53802">http://www.gutenberg.org/5/3/8/0/53802</a></p> -<p> -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed.</p> - -<p>Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - - -Title: Drowsy - - -Author: John Ames Mitchell - - - -Release Date: December 25, 2016 [eBook #53802] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DROWSY*** - - -E-text prepared by Ralph and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team -(http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by -Internet Archive (https://archive.org) - - - -Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this - file which includes the original illustrations. - See 53802-h.htm or 53802-h.zip: - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/53802/53802-h/53802-h.htm) - or - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/53802/53802-h.zip) - - - Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive. See - https://archive.org/details/drowsyjam00mitciala - - - - - -DROWSY - - - * * * * * * - -BY THE SAME AUTHOR - - - THE SUMMER SCHOOL OF PHILOSOPHY AT MT. DESERT - THE ROMANCE OF THE MOON - THE LAST AMERICAN - "LIFE'S" FAIRY TALES - AMOS JUDD - THAT FIRST AFFAIR - DR. THORNE'S IDEA - THE PINES OF LORY - THE VILLA CLAUDIA - THE SILENT WAR - PANDORA'S BOX - - * * * * * * - - -[Illustration: "A FANTASTIC, SOLEMN REGION"--_Page 208_] - - -DROWSY - -by - -JOHN AMES MITCHELL - -_Author of "The Last American," "Amos Judd," -"Pines of Lory," "Pandora's Box," etc._ - -With Illustrations by -Angus Macdonall and the Author - - - - - - - -[Illustration] - -New York -Frederick A. Stokes Company -Publishers - -Copyright, 1917, by -John Ames Mitchell - -All rights reserved, including that of translation -into foreign languages - - - - -To the Reader - - -This is not a fairy tale. - -The wonders of to-day, we are told by scientists, will be to-morrow the -common things of daily life. - -Wireless telegraphy, it appears, is but the crude beginning to a deeper -knowledge of the mysteries that surround us. Waves of thought, like -waves of light, obedient to our will, may supplant the spoken word and -the written message. - -And we learn that Space, the borderless abyss through which we move, is -vibrant with electric life. But still unsolved is the mystery of the -force that holds the moon, for instance, to its orbit around the earth. -And it holds it with a mightier power than bars of steel. - -If it be true that the human voice goes out into space, on and forever, -as other waves, why should not a lover on a nearby planet receive the -message from an earthly maiden? If waves of thought keep pace with -waves of light, the call of a human heart would surely reach him. - -This tale of Drowsy is the somewhat romantic narrative of a woman -and a reckless lover. An unusual lover, to be sure, with a singular -inheritance; but very human--and with a full equipment of human faults -and virtues. While his achievements may seem to us incredible, the -coming generation may regard them as commonplace events. - -It was Pliny, the elder, who said, "Indeed, what is there that does not -appear marvelous when it comes to our knowledge for the first time?" - -So, if this story of Drowsy seems a fairy tale, let us remember that -the Atlantic Cable would be a fairy tale to Columbus. - - - - -CONTENTS - - - CHAPTER PAGE - - I. THEIR OWN AFFAIR 1 - - II. HOW THE ACQUAINTANCE BEGAN 19 - - III. UNCLE HECTOR'S VERDICT 33 - - IV. MATRIMONIAL 43 - - V. HE MEETS TWO LADIES 72 - - VI. HE ALMOST GETS RELIGION 103 - - VII. TOWARD THE LIGHT 116 - - VIII. A WORKER OF MIRACLES 132 - - IX. DREAMS? 144 - - X. THE FARTHEST TRAVELER 162 - - XI. UNSIGHT UNSEEN 172 - - XII. "INCREDIBLE!" 189 - - XIII. A MESSAGE 221 - - XIV. OVER SEAS 229 - - XV. A GARDEN OF WONDERS 235 - - XVI. THE SOUL OF A SONG 251 - - XVII. "I MEAN IT" 259 - - XVIII. THE CANON OF DESPAIR 267 - - XIX. A YOUNG MAN TALKS 273 - - XX. ANOTHER MESSAGE 280 - - XXI. ABOVE THE CLOUDS 290 - - - - -Illustrations - - - "A fantastic, solemn, region" _Frontispiece_ - - FACING - PAGE - "Gracefully he floated over their heads" 28 - - "A cocoanut palace against a mountain of vanilla ice - cream" 114 - - "I want to know how the earth looks when you are - standing on the moon" 120 - - "And now, today, down at the bottom of the ocean, - those cities and those marble temples are still - standing" 124 - - "Could lift it in the air to any height, crew, passengers, - and cargo" 154 - - "And glide forever, a homeless vagrant through the - dusky void" 170 - - "Far and fast, even for a bird man" 180 - - "But who ever saw such a diamond?" 198 - - "A most unusual country!" 206 - - "But once a city?" 208 - - "Older than human history" 209 - - "The dried bones of its own past, whatever it was" 212 - - "But why build their cities in those sunless chasms?" 213 - - "And over everything an awful silence" 214 - - "A world of dust and ashes" 215 - - "The diamonds are there, and plenty of them" 216 - - "With long arms and very short legs" 217 - - "But the Diva was far away. She heard nothing save - the thing unheard by others" 226 - - - - -DROWSY - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -I - -THEIR OWN AFFAIR - - -Breath of Scandal. - -Imperishable zephyr! Dispenser of delight to all:--save those it -touches. Floating in playful sport around the globe, it does little -harm to callous sinners. But it blights, with a special and vociferous -joy, superior persons. - -The higher and more immaculate the victim the greater the general -mirth. In the wake of pleasure it may have, at times, a comic side; at -other times it kills--and with agonies that are not for publication. - -In a certain month of May it loitered up the eastern shore of the -Adriatic, lingering briefly at Rovigno, just long enough to nip the -budding romance of an interesting widow. At Orsera it electrified the -leading citizens by linking, in a gentle whisper, the name of a lady -of spotless reputation with a Platonic Friend. It spared Parenzo. But -at Cittanuova it fanned into flame a general curiosity regarding the -relations of a Captain of Cavalry with the wife of a certain careless -husband. At S. Lorenzo it merely put two lovers on their guard. - -Then onward for Trieste. In this search for savory victims it -overlooked a villa high up a hillside. Here, indeed, the Breath of -Scandal might have entered and rejoiced! But the villa, as if guarding -against this very visitor, had drawn before its face a screen of trees -and vines and flowers. As wise old Bumble takes his morning nectar from -the choicest flowers, so here might this fateful zephyr have drunk his -fill. - -There was mystery about this villa. - -Natives, whose business brought them in the vicinity, were enchanted by -the beauty of a woman's voice. In melody and in power it was, to them, -a revelation. Two middle-aged gentlemen--one of them the Cure of S. -Pietro in Selve--both lovers of music and who attended operas at Milan -and other cities heard the celestial voice one day when passing near -the villa. They were charmed. Both knew it was no ordinary singer. But -the singer's identity was not discovered. - -On this particular morning a young man was sitting alone in the -Loggia of the villa. Westward, through one of the open arches, he -gazed upon the deep, blue waters of the Adriatic, far down below. -Small boats, with sails of various colors, floated here and there, -like lazy butterflies. The man was reclining in an easy chair like an -invalid--which he was. Bandages encased his throat. A bullet through -his neck, two months ago, would explain these bandages. It was the -price he paid for striking an Austrian officer across the mouth. The -Austrian officer had made an offensive remark concerning the Diva. The -young American was a good shot and in the duel, three days later, he -sent a bullet through his adversary's chest. It so happened that the -Austrian, being also a good shot, sent a corresponding missile through -the young American's neck. Then the Diva and her defender had fled -to this villa; not together, but separately, to escape the Breath of -Scandal. Here, in this ideal nest, they found peace and privacy. Not -under their own names. Ah, no! If the lady's identity were suspected -the thrilling news would have circled the globe. One cannot be an opera -singer of world-wide fame and suddenly become obscure. The Diva's -Italian friends and the public believed that she was rusticating -somewhere, with relatives. The American's friends in Paris had heard -about the duel, but knew nothing of his whereabouts. So, alone and -happy, here on this Istrian hillside, they laughed at Mrs. Grundy, -and lived and loved at leisure. And what sweeter victory than looking -down from a perch of safety upon the world below where the Breath of -Scandal spared neither the guilty nor the innocent? Kind providence -had so managed that the Diva's immediate family was not inquisitive. -It consisted solely of her father, a famous scientist, whose portrait, -with its high forehead, shaggy hair and drowsy eyes was a familiar -face to Italian students. So absorbed he was in study and experiment -that the adventures of his yet more famous daughter caused him no -uneasiness. Had the Breath of Scandal entered his laboratory, it would -have been ignored--or ejected as a liar. The Diva's husband--known as -"The Calamity" by her friends--a handsome gentleman of noble family, -had long since become immune to the Breath of Scandal--so well encased -in his disrepute that he could sink no further. He and the Breath of -Scandal were boon companions. At present he held a government position -in Siam. Three years he had been there, and might remain for ten years -more. So, at the cozy Istrian villa were no jealous eyes to disturb a -lover's dream. - -On this May morning, too warm, perhaps, in the sunshine, but perfect -in the shade, the American, in his reclining chair, was listening -to a singing voice. It came to him from an inner room of the villa. -Dreamily he listened, with half closed eyes, and smiling mouth. It had -been rather a handsome face before the duel. Now the features were too -sharp, and the eyes showed lack of sleep. This old Hungarian song--a -mother's prayer, now coming from the Diva's lips, and heart--was her -lover's favorite, and her own. It was given with the depth of feeling -and the art of a great singer, herself soon to be a mother. There are -things in music, often the simplest songs, that stir the imagination -and reach the secret chamber of the soul beyond all others. This -Hungarian prayer was one. It had become, to these two people, a hymn of -hope, with its love and fears, its yearnings and its joy. And into it -the Diva gave her very soul. - -The song ended. Then, with eyes still moist, the Diva walked out into -the loggia. - -A pleasant thing to look upon, this goddess of the ravishing voice. -There seemed bewitchment in her figure, in her carriage, in her head -and neck, in the low, wide brow with its blackest of black hair. -Beneath the heavy lashes of the midnight eyes lurked tragedy. Their -mysterious depths disturbed the hearts of men. Yet her lips told more -of mirth. Certain critics maintained that her greatest triumphs were -in comedy. But as nearly all grand opera is for tragedy she rarely -appeared in lighter roles. This morning, as she stepped out into -the loggia, she could have passed for almost any heroine--either of -tragedy or comedy. Her robe, a thing of light material, might be any -shade or color; perhaps a delicate purple ground with a smiling yellow -pattern--or vice versa; so artfully designed that the outlines of her -figure became elusive. - -She bent over, kissed the invalid, and pressed a cheek against his -face. Then she straightened up and stood beside him, looking down with -a smile that was more than friendly. The invalid returned the smile. It -was an easy thing to do. For what is easier than returning the smile of -a singing goddess vainly sought by other men, when she descends from -pinnacles of glory--and freely, joyfully surrenders herself, and all -from an overpowering love? In the smile that lingered between them were -things whose utterance is not in words of any language:--things that -true lovers, and they alone, can ever know. Close beside him she drew -a wicker chair, and she sat in silence for a moment, studying his face. -Earnestly she looked into his eyes as if searching his secret thoughts. - -Flowers may be the language of love, but in this case it was also -French. The Diva was Italian and her French was more than good. And -Dr. Alton's French, for an American, was not so very bad. But since -the leaden messenger had entered his neck three months ago, he had -spoken no word, of French, nor of any other language. It was still a -question whether he would regain his voice or be forever mute. And in -those three months of ceaseless devotion there had come to the Diva an -amazing gift. So intense had been her desire to know his thoughts, so -persistent her efforts to know what his silent lips would utter, that -at last the wish was granted. A mysterious power had come: a power that -transferred to her own brain--or soul--the thoughts his lips could not -express. - -The conversation to an eavesdropper would have seemed a monologue by -the lady, with long pauses. In these pauses she was reading her lover's -thoughts. The young man's pleasure in these gazings was even greater -than the Diva's. Within her eyes, themselves an entrancement, he found -love and infinite devotion. Under their spell he asked no greater joy -than opening wide the secret chambers of his soul. - -"Did the little blond hero happen to notice how I finished the prayer -song this morning?" - -The little blond hero--who was some inches taller than the Diva when on -his feet--nodded. He nodded slowly and carefully in consideration of -the bandaged throat. - -"And that it was a little different from the way I usually sing it?" - -Again the answer was a careful nod. - -"How did he like it? Is it better that way?" - -This time, after the faint, affirmative sign, she gazed longer into the -adoring eyes, waiting a less simple answer. She found it, and with no -aid from his lips. - -"Yes, that was my idea precisely. More strength in the final passages; -the deeper feeling of a mother's appeal." Then, with closed eyes and -clasped hands: "May the prayer be answered, for my whole soul is in it!" - -On the clasped hands the invalid laid one of his own, with a gentle -pressure, telling of sympathy, hope and confidence. She opened her eyes -and returned his smile. "Yes, yes. We must be cheerful; always cheerful -and full of hope. It will be better for the child." - -After a silence, in which both looked thoughtfully over the tree tops, -toward the distant coast of Italy, beyond the butterfly sails far below -moving here and there on the shimmering surface of the Adriatic, she -turned, in response to another pressure of the hand, and again looked -deep into the patient's eyes. - -"No, Dr. Cervini says there's no harm in my singing unless I fatigue -myself. And I never do that." - -But his face was anxious. So with an air of cheerful confidence she -exclaimed: - -"I have decided on a boy. Yes, a boy! Smile again. I love to see you -smile. Why a boy? Because boys are stronger and bigger than girls; more -reasoning; more honest. What? Not so lovable as girls. Oh, nonsense!" - -Here a pause. - -"I don't quite understand. Think that again.--Oh, well I shouldn't -mind if he was. I love bad boys. Of course we don't want a cowardly, -mean-spirited, stingy, cold-blooded, deceitful kind of badness." - -Here, after another pause, she laughed. "Yes, I suppose that is just -what I do mean--a bad boy who is good." - -Another silence, and another laugh. "No, never!" "But tell me, Defender -of Women, why do you wish for a girl? Because what? She might be a -perfect copy of myself? Oh, honey-mouthed humbug!" - -She rose, stooped over, kissed him, and sat down again. - -"Well, I shall be happy, very happy, whatever the Bon Dieu gives us." - -The next silence was longer. - -"Yes, that is all very true. Heredity counts. There's no doubt of that. -Half Italian, half American--there are worse combinations. But I am -doubtful about the American half." Here she frowned and slowly shook -her head. "I have a torturing suspicion that all Americans--with one -heavenly exception--are ignoble things." - -The blond hero smiled and closed his eyes. - -"Not an opera singer in the whole country," she went on. "No music, no -art, no Roman ruins; just a race of handsome, reckless, blood-thirsty -young doctors. And the whole miserable wilderness, the whole continent -itself, was discovered by an Italian! Think of that! Think of how much -we owe Columbus, you and I! Were it not for him we should never have -met--for you would not exist. You owe everything to Italy. Still, we -love each other just as much. That is the important thing. Nothing else -really matters." But she frowned and shook a finger. "Nevertheless, -if it's a boy I shall name him Columbus Michael Angelo Dante Victor -Emanuel Alton, just to hide the dishonor of his father's nationality." - -The invalid clasped the finger, and held it. For a moment two pairs of -eyes looked deep into each other. Then the Diva laughed. "What ideas -you have! The Good God gave you a sunny heart, my beloved. And you -know--Oh, you know well--that whatever----" - -At the sound of a distant door bell she stopped abruptly. Into her face -came a look of mild alarm. Both knew that no visitor was welcome. Who -could enter this bower unless shadowed by the Breath of Scandal? The -next moment, however, her face brightened. "Oh--of course! It's the -good Dr. Cervini. I had forgotten he was to come early to-day." - -The man who entered kissed the tips of the Diva's fingers. Then he -shook hands with the American. - -Tall, thin, of brown and leathery skin, with a prominent Roman nose, -fierce mustaches and pointed iron gray beard, he could easily have -passed for Don Quixote. But the fierce mustaches failed to hide the -lines of mirth about the mouth. And from two calm eyes beneath the -threatening eyebrows gleamed sympathy and benevolence. It was generally -believed that Dr. Cervini had ushered into the world more princes and -princesses, more grand dukes and duchesses, more future kings and -queens than any man in Europe. In those cases where there might be a -question as to the propriety of the little one's arrival, he was more -than trustworthy. In such affairs the Silence of the Tomb, compared -with Dr. Cervini, was noisy gossip. - -After various questions concerning the patient's progress he exclaimed: - -"What patience, what godlike self-control are exhibited by Dr. Alton! -Younger and more up-to-date than I, with a perfect knowledge of the -human throat, yet he submits to my advice and antiquated treatment! -Medals should be his!" - -Dr. Alton, of course, protested, in silence, and the silent protest -was put in words by the Diva. So ran the conversation for a time, Dr. -Cervini watching the Diva with deepest interest. - -"Do you realize, Signora," he said at last, "that you have developed a -most extraordinary faculty?" - -"Is it so very remarkable?" - -"It is, indeed! In all my experience, and you know it covers many -years, I have seen nothing quite like it. Hypnotism, mental telepathy -and the old familiar tricks are very different matters. In your case -a sound mind in a sound body merges itself in closest communication -with another mind, equally sound and normal. I am wondering if you -could still read the doctor's thoughts if there was no common language -between you. Or is it his unspoken words that you read?" - -The Diva reflected. "No, it is not his words. I feel sure I should know -his wishes even if there were no such things as words." Then, turning -to her lover: "Tell me, wicked one, do you have to think in words when -we talk together?--No, he says not." - -"An amazing faculty!" murmured Dr. Cervini. "I have never seen nor -heard of such a case. You two, as I understand, can carry on an endless -conversation, and without a word from him." - -"Yes, except, sometimes, names of people or of places. Then, if I don't -know them, he writes them for me." - -"Could you read the thoughts of another person, do you think? Of -others, beside our invalid, here?" - -"Oh, I am sure I don't know! I never tried. It's a terrible thought. -Could anything be more frightful than to know, at times, what people -really thought of you? No, no, Heaven forbid!" - -Dr. Cervini laughed. "Oh, you would have little to fear on that score!" -Then, tapping the hand of the invalid, "But you and I, Doctor, we -professional sinners!--well--that would indeed be humiliating! Our -crosses would be heavy!" - -The invalid smiled, then looked at the Diva. And the Diva laughed, -blushed and shook her head. - -"What does he say?" - -"It's too foolish to repeat. He's a silly boy." - -"I insist upon knowing." - -"He says----. No, no. I couldn't repeat it! His brain is affected. His -blond wits are wandering." - -Dr. Cervini frowned and looked his fiercest. "What manners! Secret -messages in the very presence of a guest!" - -"Well--he says the unspoken thoughts of a grateful world might -intoxicate me, and he doesn't enjoy drunkards." - -Dr. Cervini laughed. "No, you are mistaken, Doctor. She has already -survived that test. No living conqueror has sailed in triumph on such -seas of glory. No other queen or goddess has achieved her victory -without losing something of the simplicity, the freshness and the charm -of youth. The hearts of men are hers. To entrance the world, to----" - -"Stop! Stop!" Again the color came to her cheeks. "If you said it too -often, I might believe it, and then--adieu to all simplicity." - -The two men protested--each in his own manner--against all denials of -their sincerity. - -More serious conversation followed. Dr. Cervini, after final -instructions for the patient, departed, the Diva going with him to the -outer door. As usual at these partings, she pressed him for an honest -opinion of the patient's condition. And, as usual, it was favorable. - -She laid a hand on his arm. "You are telling me the truth, aren't you, -old friend?" - -"Yes. On my honor. In a fortnight he shall eat and drink and talk in -comfort. Believe me. Now, now! No tears! I know what a strain it is. -You have been simply magnificent all through these weary weeks. Don't -weaken now. The worst is over." - -"Yes, I will be brave. But the hardest of all is to see him suffer. He -never complains. He tries so hard, so hard, to be cheerful! It seems, -at moments, as if I could bear it no longer." - -"Go away for a week or two. I can bring an excellent nurse." - -"No, no! Never that!" - -"Then remember the child. It must not come into the world with the face -of a tragic mask; with weeping eyes and wrinkled brow." - -She smiled and promised. But, after bidding him a cheerful good-by, -and when the door had closed, she dropped into a chair and pressed -both hands against her face. It was a determined effort to keep back -the tears. They came, however; but the luxury was brief. With an air -of somewhat fierce resolve she arose, stood just long enough before a -mirror to dry her eyes, then, humming the gayest of airs from a comic -opera, she went out into the loggia and rejoined the sufferer. - -Meanwhile, Dr. Cervini descended the driveway of the villa to the -postroad. There he stopped, leaned upon the parapet and looked down -upon the scene below him; the little town at the foot of the hill, and -the sky-blue Adriatic. - -At the sound of an approaching carriage he turned. The approaching -equipage was obviously patrician. It pertained to a lady of the High -Nobility. Save the two men in livery on the box and the Breath of -Scandal, this Countess was traveling alone. She and the Breath of -Scandal were boon companions. This intimacy bore no resemblance to the -corresponding intimacy among common people where purity is defiled, -homes ruined and good names besmeared. With the Countess the Breath of -Scandal became a sweet perfume--wafting around her person an intriguing -atmosphere of mystery, romance and patrician vice. - -Friendly greetings passed between the lady and the doctor. Then the -lady asked for information. She suspected from something she had heard -that the Diva was in this vicinity. - -"Now, tell me, Doctor. Where is she?" - -"She? In this vicinity?" - -"Come now, I am not to be deceived. You may as well tell me at once. -Where is she? You are one of her intimates and I saw you come down that -avenue. As the only truthful man in Austria, you may as well confess -that she lives at the end of it." - -The truthful man raised his Mephistophelean eyebrows, smiled and slowly -shook his head. "Alas, I wish, indeed, she were there! There is a -villa, Countess, but no Diva in it." - -The lady frowned. "Who then?" - -"Nobody you know, or are likely to know. The occupant is a deservedly -prosperous manufacturer of excellent chocolate." - -"Are you sure?" In her manner was suspicion, not quite allayed. - -"Well--I have spent the last hour there--and many previous hours." - -"Very likely. But I don't believe you." - -"Am I a liar?" - -"I really don't know." - -"But you just said I was the only truthful man in Austria." - -"Merely a form of speech. I meant relatively. You might be the most -truthful man in Austria and yet have no standing in heaven--or any -other honest resort." - -Dr. Cervini smiled. "True, too true! But who told you our Diva was here -about?" - -"A connoisseur. A judge of voices. One who could not be mistaken. He -heard her voice one evening, here, along this road." - -"Was he sure it was the Diva?" - -"Absolutely." - -"Ah, now I understand. Delicious! Really, it's too good to keep to -ourselves. If we could only interview him together, you and I!" - -"What do you mean?" - -"I mean my chocolate king has a young daughter, who sings. And she -sings--yes--she sings well. But, vocally, she bears about the same -resemblance to our Diva as a guinea chicken to a skylark." - -"Could our connoisseur be quite such a fool as that?" - -"A real connoisseur can be anything. But possibly he had dined too well -on that particular night. However, even when sober a musical critic -can----" He stopped abruptly, with a gesture of annoyance. "Oh, what -a memory! My humblest apologies to our connoisseur. He was right, -absolutely right. He made no mistake." - -"Then she is here, after all?" - -"No, she is far from here. But I had entirely forgotten, for the -moment, that she passed this way not so long ago. In the town below -there, she lingered a day or two on her way to France." - -"Is she in France?" - -"Yes, for the summer;--and for rest." - -"What part of France?" - -"Ah, that, Countess, I must not tell." - -"But I am one of her oldest friends! Am I not even to correspond with -her?" - -"Well, you know her one object in going there is for absolute rest, not -even writing letters. I see you are hurt, dear lady, and I understand -your feelings, but I am sworn to secrecy." - -The lady stiffened, and settled back in the carriage. "Hurt! I should -say so. And why not, pray?" - -Dr. Cervini seemed to reflect a moment. "Well, Countess, will you give -me your solemn word of honor to guard the secret if I tell you?" - -"I promise." - -"Do you happen to know the town of Tarbes?" - -"No." - -"Have you ever been to Foix?" - -"Never heard of it." - -"Well, she has rented a little villa somewhere between those places, -but back in the mountains." - -"What mountains?" - -"The Pyrenees." - -"God protect us! Is she there?" - -"She is. Her doctors and her family all insisted upon her having a six -months' rest. And she needs it." - -"Provoking! Most annoying! And here I have had a long drive beneath a -broiling sun--and all for nothing." - -Dr. Cervini waved a solemn finger. "Don't forget your promise." - -"Yes, I will remember. But, the young American doctor who struck--and -then killed a captain. Where is he?" - -"In his own country." - -"In America?" - -"Even so." - -"Shameful! Shameful!" - -"Why shameful, Countess?" - -"Because I hoped they were together--as they should be. It's too -delicious a romance for the lovers to spoil by parting." - -"Lovers! She hardly knew him. If a favorite prima donna were to adopt -every man who fell in love with her she would have no time for music. -Heavens! What a regiment of followers!" - -"Nevertheless," said the lady, in a more serious manner, "I blush for -the Diva." - -"Why blush?" - -"I always blush for virtue." - - * * * * * - -As the carriage, with the Countess, escorted by the Breath of Scandal, -disappeared around a curve in the road, Dr. Cervini removed his hat, -looked heavenward and murmured: - -"Angels of mercy, forgive a liar." - -But the lie did well. Never again came the Breath of Scandal so near -the Diva. The lovers' secret remained a secret. Even her father, the -famous scientist with the drowsy eyes, died twenty years later not -knowing that he had a grandchild. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -II - -HOW THE ACQUAINTANCE BEGAN - - -Seven years have passed. - -Under the arching elms in a Massachusetts village, one Sunday morning -in July, various persons were moving toward a house of worship. The -house of worship was white, with a portico of Ionic columns. - -Among the branches of the elms a noisy congregation of non-sectarian -birds seemed to be laughing at the Orthodox bells. - -Dr. Alton, leading his little son by the hand, was walking beside -the parson. Dr. Alton was but little over thirty years of age. His -son was nearly seven. When the older physician died, two months ago, -this younger Dr. Alton, his only child, had returned from Europe and -announced his intention of continuing his father's practice. Why an -attractive young man, shining with honors from the medical schools of -Paris and Vienna, should be willing to hide his talents in a village -like Longfields was an interesting mystery. Some argued that the death -of his young wife had broken his heart and killed ambition. But this -morning, as he walked to church, beneath the singing elms, he took -cheerful notice of the things about him. He enjoyed the greetings of -old friends of his boyhood. - -Some yards behind, in this progress toward the church, came Mr. and -Mrs. David Snell. Mr. Snell was listening to the discourse of his -wife. He listened with the patience and the fortitude attained by long -experience and by force of will. His beard was gray, his eyes were -blue, his shoulders narrow and his figure slight. Also, he had a gentle -voice and gentle manners. But it was known among his friends that this -gentleness was by no means a manifestation of any inward weakness. -While patient and much enduring, there were times when he became -more determined, more "cantankerously sot" and unchangeable than the -movements of the planets. Deacon Babbit once said, "Compared with David -when he gets his dander up the Rock of Ages is a weather-cock. The only -safe thing to do is to stand from under and let him be." But these -transformations were rare, and often forgotten. - -"I don't care," Mrs. Snell was saying, "people have a right to gossip -when a handsome young man comes home from Europe with a child like that -and refuses to open his mouth about its mother. I don't believe it -_had_ a mother." - -"P'r'aps not. P'r'aps it grew on a pumpkin tree and the doctor jest -picked it." - -"You know what I mean, David. We never heard of his being married -durin' those six years he was over there--over there studyin' medicine. -Studyin' medicine! I guess he studied a good many things besides -medicine." - -"Been a fool if he hadn't. Medicine ain't the only interestin' thing in -this world." - -"Don't be coarse, David, and excusing vice. You know very well he -should not deceive people about it." - -"How has he deceived anybody?" - -"By saying he was married to this boy's mother--and she died." - -"Well, ain't it true?" - -"No." - -"How do you know it ain't?" - -"Because if it was true he wouldn't be so secretive about it. There's -nothing to be ashamed of in marrying an honest woman and having a -child." - -"No," said Mr. Snell. "Nuthin' specially surprisin' about that. Good -folks have done it." - -"Then why be hiding something? All his old friends are naturally -interested in his wife and he'd naturally tell us--unless there was -something he was ashamed of." - -"Ashamed of? Well, Rebecca, you certainly can talk like a fool when you -put your mind on it." - -Mrs. Snell flushed. "Really! Indeed! So you think it's perfectly -natural for a man to hide from his old friends all knowledge of his -marriage--as he would a murder?" - -"Yes, if he wants to." - -"Well, I don't. And that's the difference. And we'll see what other -people in this village are going to think about it." - -Mr. Snell stopped, laid a hand on his wife's arm and wheeled her -about. He spoke in a low voice, but his words were metallic in their -clearness. "Now look here, Rebecca Snell, you jest go slow on startin' -that kind of talk. Dr. Alton's a good man. We are mighty lucky to have -him in the old doctor's shoes. Longfields is a mighty small village for -a man with such an education as he's got. And if it ever got to his -ears that you'd been insultin' his dead wife's memory--well--you'll get -jest exactly what you deserve, and I'll help give it to yer. I mean it. -Now shut up." - -Mrs. Snell glanced at the light blue angry eyes now looking steadily -into her own. Between those eyes and her own face, a long and bony -finger, quivering with anger, was moving slowly, to and fro. It came -very near her face. She blinked, tightened her lips and took a backward -step. Then her husband, in a low voice, husky with rage, the vibrating -finger almost touching her nose, spoke once more. - -"And you _stay_ shut up!" - -After a pause, just long enough for his message to be acknowledged by a -nod of obedience he started on toward the church. - -Mrs. Snell followed after. - -In that congregation were persons who came to worship their -Creator--the ostensible purpose of the gathering. Miss Susan Pendexter, -on the other hand, a somewhat emotional spinster, came to worship -the preacher, Rev. George Bentley Heywood. She was thrilled by the -originality, the power and the beauty of the sermon which to his -own wife seemed, as usual, prosy and commonplace. Many were present -because afraid to stay away. Among these were the young men. Children, -of course, were present under compulsion, accepting the sermon as a -punishment. - -No gathering could be more democratic. These descendants of the -Pilgrims were not encumbered by class distinctions. Judge Dean, for -instance, the most influential citizen of the village, would never -presume to patronize either Abner Phillips, the harness maker or Elisha -Bisbee, the blacksmith. Uncle Hector, who kept the store, would have -snubbed all the reigning monarchs of the earth had he suspected them -of willful condescension. The somewhat restless man in a side pew, he -whose stiff hair stands straight on end, who snuffs and clears his -throat and looks pleasantly around the church, is Lemuel Cobb, the -stage driver. He is a descendant of a famous Governor of Plymouth -Colony and has a brother who is now President of a Western College. And -the two Allen "girls," Nance and Fidelia--now over sixty--have one of -the best pews in Church. The fact of their being largely dependent for -food and clothing, rent and fuel, on the bounty of their neighbors, -lessens in no degree the courtesy they receive. - -It was natural that Dr. Alton and his son, this morning, should be -objects of lively interest. This interest was all the greater from -certain unexplained events in Europe kindly referred to by Mrs. Snell. -But other persons were less suspicious than this lady. Nearly all the -members of the congregation--and of the township for that matter--were -old friends of this Dr. Alton's father. Few among those here present -failed to recall, with gratitude and affection, the dead physician. -The older members he had either sustained in sickness or had postponed -their departure to realms above. The younger ones he had ably assisted -into our merry world. This younger Dr. Alton, now present, bore some -resemblance to his father. He had a good expression and a pleasant -smile, but he was, of course, too young to carry those deeper lines of -study, of work and kindly deeds that marked his father's face. - -So high were the backs of the pews that the smaller children were -almost invisible. Only the tops of their heads were in sight. But -Dr. Alton's son, for a wider knowledge of this new world, folded his -short legs beneath him and sat upon his heels. This was welcomed--in -silence--by many persons in the congregations. They could now satisfy -their curiosity as to his appearance. And the face was disappointing. -His eyes, as they moved in a drowsy way over the faces about him, -seemed dull and almost stupid. They seemed half closed by heavy lids. -And his short, cherubic mouth might indicate a want of decision. -His hair, short, thick and dark grew in a straight line across his -forehead. Altogether, with his stiff hair, plump cheeks, short neck and -placid manner, he seemed a different type from the little Yankee boys -of Longfields. - -Mrs. Waldo Bennett, the tall, straight woman with startled eyebrows, -said to herself, as she watched his slow moving eyes, studying in mild -surprise the church and the people about him, "That little heathen -was never in a house of God before." But she was wrong. This was, to -be sure, his first experience in a New England church, but he had -been in cathedrals. And he was surprised at the difference in size -between this cathedral and those at Milan and Canterbury. Leisurely, -and with no embarrassment or self-consciousness, his eyes wandered -slowly over various persons who were watching him. But when his eyes -encountered Mrs. Snell they opened a trifle wider. There, in surprise, -they rested for a moment. For in this lady's face he found, not the -amiable curiosity of his grandfather's grateful friends, but a pious -disapproval of his very existence. Almost threatening was her look of -hostility, of reprobation and contempt. There was censure in it, and -condemnation. She was studying him as one of the Higher Angels might -study the meanest imp of Satan. For Mrs. Snell, while not impervious -to the consolations of religion, found more solace, just at present, -in believing Dr. Alton a special envoy from Sodom and Gomorrah. As -for the boy, she detected, in his evil eyes and voluptuous mouth, an -agent of the devil for the future debauchery of Longfields. She was not -especially prophetic in other matters but, for this boy, she predicted -an unspeakable career. - -And the boy, while unable to divine all her thoughts or to realize -this blighting forecast, did not fail to catch the general message. -For a moment he returned her gaze, calmly and undisturbed; then as -calmly looked away. He was seeking refuge in the thought that perhaps -she hated all other boys just as much. Perhaps the women in this new -country were fiercer than those in Europe. - -The very next minute, however, something happened--something so much -more thrilling that he forgot completely the square jawed, ominous -woman. As he looked away from her hostile glare he encountered the -eyes of the parson's daughter. And such eyes! How different from Mrs. -Snell's! These eyes were the two most astonishing things he had ever -seen. They were not far away--in a pew at right angles to his own--and -they were looking straight at him! They had thick, dark lashes. They, -also, were severe, but in a different way from Mrs. Snell's. They -certainly were frowning at him. From Mrs. Snell's eyes he felt like -running away--for safety. These other eyes seemed more surprised than -angry--as if demanding an apology for something. Although but six -years old they were remarkably effective for weapons with so little -experience. Not that she was a flirt at that age: she was nothing more -than a rather willful little girl, already somewhat spoiled: one of -those clever females intended by nature to succeed, from the cradle up, -in getting whatever they desire. - -The boy's eyebrows went up and he smiled, involuntarily, in spite of -her frown, and his slumbrous eyelids opened a little wider. He enjoyed -beautiful things, in whatever form, and those eyes, whether hostile -or friendly, were wondrous things. Then, when he had just begun to -stare at them, comfortably, came one of the surprises of his life. It -was more than a surprise: it was a blow, a shock, a humiliation. For, -this girl, with no warning, made a face at him! She wrinkled up her -nose, slightly raised her chin and stuck out her tongue. And, while -he gazed in wonder, she unfolded the legs upon which she was elevated -and sank from his vision like a mermaid beneath the waves. He was -more astonished than angry. That such an affront, so undeserved, so -undignified and so insulting should come from so angelic a face was -something new in his experience. In his desire to see more of this -novelty he forgot his surroundings, and to the surprise of neighboring -worshipers, and before his father could stop him, he clambered to his -feet and stood up on the seat of the pew. - -Accelerated by his father's hand and by a whispered word, he came down -to his proper level. But Mrs. Snell had seen the act. It strengthened -her conviction that this future corrupter of youth had no respect for -the House of God, and was already dead to any religious influence. For -a time the Corrupter of Youth kept his eyes on the place where the eyes -had vanished; but in vain. They seemed to have disappeared forever. So, -being a boy, he found interest in other things. - -The tall windows of the church were open at the top, and those members -of the congregation, not enthralled by the sermon, could see snowy -clouds drifting idly across a bright blue sky. Through these open -windows came the song of birds;--voices of the heathen birds already -mentioned; good singers but with little reverence for the Gospel Word. -To the Corrupter of Youth, also, the Gospel Word had little interest. -He was looking up, through the open windows, at the floating clouds, -the swallows and the white pigeons. One swallow, less discerning than -his friends, flew into the church and fluttered about before escaping. -He was followed, with envious eyes, by the Corrupter of Youth, who -decided there and then--a decision often made before--that when he grew -to be a man, and could do as he pleased, he also would fly:--up from -the earth, high up into the clouds like a bird! - -Perhaps it was the warm day and the preacher's voice, but after a -while he began to feel sleepy. And, anyway, why should a bird be so -much better off than men and other animals? Why stick so tight to the -ground? It didn't seem fair. Why should a hen--just a hen--have wings -and not a boy? If he himself had wings--my gracious!--he would rise -and sail up through the open window, up and far away above the clouds, -into the blue sky itself! Among the gods and angels he would float -around. And just to show what he could do, he would astonish them with -extraordinary evolutions. For speed, originality and distance, his -flights, with curves and sudden stops, would startle even sparrows -themselves. There was pleasure, too, in swooping down, and showing his -contempt for these heavy, easily satisfied persons all huddled together -between the bare walls of this foolish little Longfields cathedral. -Darting downwards, but in easy curves, to the very window through which -he had been looking up and out, he now looked down and in. Hovering at -the open window, his body without, his head within, he frowned upon -the upturned, startled faces of the earth-bound congregation. Then -he entered. Gracefully he floated over their heads. For a moment he -hovered over Mrs. Snell, who uttered a loud scream, then fell dead from -terror. Next, above the girl with the wonderful eyes he moved slowly to -and fro, as fishes move in water. This just to show her what kind of a -floating boy he was. Descending a little, until his face was close to -hers, he looked straight into her startled eyes and wiggled his nose -like a rabbit. And it frightened her almost to death! - -[Illustration: "GRACEFULLY HE FLOATED OVER THEIR HEADS"--_Page 29_] - -'Twas a great thought! - -He smiled as he reveled in it. But there are dreams too beautiful -to be true. And when, at last, his soul rejoined his body he saw -the preacher had folded his hands upon the Bible in front of him, -and was praying. The members of the congregation, with bowed heads, -were listening in solemn silence. Then the dreamer, now wide awake, -slid from his seat, stood up, put his mouth to his parent's ear and -whispered: - -"Father, quick! His eyes are shut. Let's get away!" - -Parents can be dull. On this occasion his father certainly missed a -golden opportunity. He merely shook his head and failed to act. - -However, the weary service was almost over. The prayer ended; the -congregation stood up and joined in the final hymn. The dreamer also -stood up. Also, he opened his cherubic mouth, and sang. The words he -knew not, but he sang without them. His unfamiliar voice surprised -Miss Martha Lincoln, a middle-aged maiden just in front of him. Twice -a week she gave music lessons in Worcester. Now, involuntarily she -looked behind. Her surprise was great when she discovered the performer -to be a small boy whose diminutive mouth could hardly open wide enough -to put forth the music that was in him. Clearly this courageous singer -possessed an ear and a sense of harmony that were a part of himself, -and not acquired. - -At last, the benediction finished, the people came slowly out of -the pews into the aisle, and moved toward the open doors. Greetings -occurred between people who lived miles apart and seldom met, except -on Sundays. The boy stuck close to his father. One of his hands kept -a tight grip on Dr. Alton's coat. As the top of his head was not above -the waists of people about him he received little attention. Many -persons overlooked him. But just before reaching the vestibule he heard -a voice close to his ear, on his own level. It said, distinctly, but in -a tone too low for the taller people to hear: - -"How do you do, little stupid?" - -He turned. There was the girl with the wondrous eyes! But now the eyes -glistened with malicious triumph. For an instant he was too surprised, -too disconcerted, to grasp the situation. Like a ship that receives -a raking broadside from an unexpected quarter and reels beneath the -shock, but recovers and prepares for action, so Cyrus Alton pulled -himself together, blinked and faced the foe. Then it was that the -maiden herself received a shock. For this boy, instead of "sassing -back" as she expected, inclined his head and body in a ceremonious -bow--as elaborate as the skirts and legs of the surrounding grown-ups -permitted, and inquired politely: - -"Why do you say that?" - -So surprised was the girl, so startled by this unprecedented, this -unheard of politeness in a human boy, that her expression swiftly -changed to one of comic dismay. She was dumb. The miracle stupefied -her. In their wonderment the beautiful eyes became yet larger and -more beautiful. But the lips were speechless. Then, once again she -vanished, this time behind her mother's skirt. - -And that is how the acquaintance began between Cyrus Alton and Ruth -Heywood. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -III - -UNCLE HECTOR'S VERDICT - - -It so happened a few days later that this acquaintance was renewed. -Cyrus, sitting on the doorstep of a house in the village, waited for -his father, who was visiting a patient within. - -Two little girls came along, arm in arm. They stopped in front of him. - -One of them said: "A new boy." - -The other said: "Isn't he funny!" - -In one of these persons Cyrus recognized the girl who made faces at -him in church. As they stood smiling, brimming over with mischief, he -arose, lifted his hat and made a sweeping bow, as d'Artagnan might have -saluted Anne of Austria. It was so well done, with so much grace and -solemnity, that the two girls were startled. Things of that sort had -never occurred in Longfields. The girls giggled. They believed he was -"showing off" to amuse them. But he was not showing off. It was merely -his usual manner of saluting ladies. When the hat was again on his -head, he looked calmly at the girl with the eyes and inquired: - -"Why did you call me stupid?" - -For an instant she was taken aback. Then with a smile of defiance: - -"Because you _look_ stupid." - -"But I am not." - -"Well you look so, anyway; doesn't he, Martha?" - -Martha nodded and giggled endorsement. But Ruth Heywood herself stopped -giggling, and said more seriously: - -"It's your eyes that are funny. They are half awake. They are so drowsy -they make me sleepy to look at them. Can't you open them wider?" - -Cyrus made no answer because he could think of nothing to say. But -as the heavy lidded eyes looked into Ruth Heywood's, with their -supernatural tranquility, it seemed to the maiden as if the accumulated -wisdom of mankind was rebuking and despising her. The same expression -came into her face that came there in church; a rapid change from -bantering gayety to doubt and misgiving. But she wheeled about, with -an air of indifference, and walked away, leading the devoted Martha. A -little way off she turned her head and called to him: - -"Good-by, Drowsy!" - -With that they both scampered away as fast as they could run. - -After this interview the acquaintance marched--or rather jumped -ahead--with all the velocity of youth. Cyrus passed her house every -time he went to the village and interviews were frequent. All -discourtesy in their first meetings was forgiven--and forgotten. To his -ceremonious salutations, with their astonishing bows, Ruth Heywood soon -became accustomed. Also, she ceased being impressed by his judicial -gaze, for she soon learned that the heavy lidded eyes concealed neither -disdain nor supernatural wisdom. She discovered, in short, that he was -just a boy. But he proved neither sleepy nor stupid. - -Certain traits, however, quite at variance with those in other children -of her own age, made him an object of her special concern. She began -to regard him as her own personal property, something to be watched -over, guided and protected. Although she had known but six years of -terrestrial life, some feminine, kindly instinct was already prompting -her to be mother and grandmother to him, also aunt and sister and all -the female blessings that he missed at home. He was, to be sure, just -about her own age, but he was shorter and less assertive. And there -certainly is--at times--a distinct advantage in being able to look down -upon the person you are trying to impress. - -When Ruth wanted a thing she wanted it very much, and at once. With -strangers she always got it. Her beauty, combined with her manner--when -she chose--were irresistible, it appeared, to all human males between -the ages of ten and one hundred. She could smile the smile that routed -reason and paralyzed all powers of resistance. This smile, as she grew -older, with the sensitive mouth and conquering eyes, never lost its -charm. And the unsuspecting Cyrus was either brave or timid, patient or -angry, happy or unhappy, at the witch's will. - -Moreover, his mental processes were quite different from those of Ruth. -He was slower in reaching conclusions. Her own swift decisions amazed -him. She dazzled him at times, by a mysterious intuitive agency whose -lightning turns he did not pretend to follow. - -Cyrus, more than other boys, was a lover of beautiful things. Flowers, -pictures, music, color, all gave him pleasure. In the presence of an -American sunset he would sit in solemn adoration. To this lover of -beautiful things Ruth's eyes were as windows of heaven. Into them he -could look and wonder; quit the earth and imagine all things. They -soothed and stirred his fancy like summer skies and solemn woods--or -flowers and thunderstorms. And when they rested on him, in reproach, -they filled him with delectable guilt. - -Ruth and Truth were one and inseparable. Truth was part of herself. -Truth and Cyrus, on the other hand, sometimes parted company. And they -parted easily. Truth was a good thing--he knew that. But there seemed -to be occasions when Truth and Wisdom did not pull together; when the -immediate results were disastrous. When those moments came he preferred -the exercise of his own wits; the triumphs of his own invention. And -his invention was rich and ready. - -On one occasion, when rebuked by his father for telling a lie, he -replied, after a moment's thought, and with earnest conviction: - -"I don't see any fun in telling the truth all the time. Anybody can do -it." - -However, aside from this little matter of despising Truth, he was a -reliable boy. He kept his promises. And it should be said in justice -that, while an easy and successful liar, his mind was open to reason -and he could be made to realize the sin and folly of his ways. His -interview with Uncle Hector, for instance, showed a willingness to see -the light. - -Uncle Hector kept the store. He was seventy-five years old, tall, very -erect, wore a green wig and was a bachelor. The wig was not really -green, but certain tints of its original golden brown had changed, in -the passing years, to a peculiar greenish yellow. His own original -virtues, however, had not deteriorated. He was honest and true. -Everybody liked him, and all the children called him Uncle. He wore -dark clothes, and a stiff, old fashioned collar--a sort of dickey--for -he had a hired man to do the rough work about the place. - -Toward noon, one February day, Cyrus and Ruth entered the store. Uncle -Hector was off at the further end talking with a customer:--Mrs. -Bennett. Nobody else was there. While waiting for Mrs. Bennett to -finish her business Cyrus and Ruth admired, as usual, the wonders -about them, and inhaled the intoxicating air; an air heavy laden with -odors of molasses and vinegar, of coffee, calico and oranges, of the -spices of Araby and the rubber boots of New England. On the top of -the counter, which was on a level with the nose of Cyrus, lay a dollar -bill. Cyrus saw it, and by standing on his toes he could reach over -and take it--which he did. He held it in the fingers of both hands and -drank in its beauties. Then he held it closer to Ruth's face, that she, -too, might admire it. - -"Just think!" he said. "A dollar is a hundred cents; we can buy a -hundred sticks of that candy you like!" - -Ruth had doubts of his ownership. Yet she considered the discoverer's -feelings. - -"But, Cyrus, it isn't yours." - -"Yes it is!" - -"Oh, no!" - -"Yes. Findin's is keepin's." - -Ruth had never heard this principle before, but she accepted it because -it came from Cyrus. And Cyrus, this fortune in his fingers, felt as all -men feel when raised, without warning, from poverty to wealth. - -Mrs. Bennett departed and at last Uncle Hector towered behind the -counter smiling down upon the two upturned, excited faces. - -"Well, Miss Ruth Heywood, and Mr. Cyrus Alton, what can I do for you -this morning?" - -Again Cyrus raised himself upon his toes, pushed the dollar bill as far -over on the counter as he could reach, and exclaimed: - -"A whole dollar's worth of that red candy with the white stripes!" - -Uncle Hector's genial smile gave way, for a moment, to an expression of -surprise. - -"Where did you get this money, Cyrus?" - -"Father gave it to me." - -"Oh, Cyrus!" exclaimed Ruth. - -The liar turned and looked at Ruth, not in anger at being exposed, but -in a sort of calm amazement that so sensible a girl should ruin so good -a plan. Ruth, however, was not the person to compromise with sin. - -"Cyrus Alton! How _can_ you say such a thing?" - -Kindly but sadly Uncle Hector looked down upon the boy. - -"Tell the truth, Cyrus." - -Cyrus, unabashed, met Uncle Hector's reproving gaze. He even smiled, as -any honest man might smile, to show his spirit was above defeat. - -"I found it just now, right here on this counter." - -Uncle Hector's face was still serious. "Are you sure it's your dollar?" - -"Yes, sir. Findin's is keepin's." - -Uncle Hector stroked his chin and twisted his mouth, as if wondering -how to answer. "Well--er--if you should take one of those oranges and -refuse to pay for it, and just walk away with it and say 'findin's is -keepin's'--would that be all right?" - -"No, sir, because I know they are for sale. This dollar wasn't." - -Again Uncle Hector stroked his chain and twisted his mouth. And Cyrus -smiled up at him, the smile of triumph. It was obvious, even to Ruth, -that this opening skirmish was a victory for Cyrus. She also smiled -up at Uncle Hector and nodded, signifying that her escort was an able -person. - -But Uncle Hector was not vanquished. He laid the dollar on the counter, -off near Cyrus' face, to make it clear there was no forcible retention -of doubtful property--that justice should be rendered to the smallest -boy as fairly as to the biggest man. Then he straightened up, pushed -back his coat and inserted his thumbs in the arm holes of his vest. -And there was something in his smile and in his confident manner that -caused uneasiness in Ruth. - -"If I should go to your house, Cyrus, and carry off a handsome sled -with the name Hiawatha on it in blue letters, refuse to give it back, -and say 'findin's is keepin's--would that be all right?" - -"No, sir, because you know it's my sled, and there's no other like it." - -Again was Uncle Hector taken by surprise, and in his face the two -children saw signs of the hesitation which often leads to defeat. -Ruth's faith in Cyrus rose yet higher. As she smiled at the tall figure -behind the counter her expression said as plainly as words, "Nobody can -get ahead of Cyrus." - -But Uncle Hector, while not prepared for such an answer to his -question, even now was unconquered. "Cyrus," he said, "you'll make a -great lawyer some day. You are mighty good at an argument. But suppose -a stranger took that sled, and when you ran after him and told it was -yours, he should say 'findin's is keepin's and refuse to give it up. -Would that be all right?" - -"Oh, no!" - -"Why not?" - -"Because I had told him it was mine." - -"Well, now, Mrs. Bennett bought seventy cents worth of tea and sewing -silk just before you and Ruth came in. She laid a dollar bill on the -counter and I gave her the change--thirty cents. Then we went away for -a minute to the back of the store and left it lying here. When I came -back I found you claimed it, saying 'findin's is keepin's.' So, if you -keep it, I lose seventy cents' worth of tea and sewing silk and thirty -cents in cash." - -Cyrus frowned, and looked sidewise at the bill. Ruth also frowned. As -she looked up at the jar that held the striped candy tears came to her -eyes. Uncle Hector smiled pleasantly upon the two troubled faces and -inquired in his gentlest manner: - -"Now, Cyrus, just as man to man, whose bill do you think it is?" - -Cyrus worked his lips, and looked away. He stood firm on his legs, -but inwardly he staggered beneath the blow. It was a whole dollar, -and gone--gone forever, before he could spend it! He might never have -another. Full grown men have been known to collapse under sudden loss -of fortune. He dared not look at Ruth. It might unnerve him for the -sacrifice. With tightened lips and blinking eyes he reached up over the -counter and silently pushed the bill away, as far toward the new owner -as his short arm could do it. - -"Thank you, Cyrus," said Uncle Hector. "I knew I was dealing with a man -who would do the right thing when he saw it. And now, let's have some -candy together and celebrate the occasion. What'll you have, Ruth?" He -moved his hand, at a guess, toward the glass jar that held the pink -candy with the white stripes. - -She nodded. "Yes, I like that best." - -He placed a stick of it in the lady's hand. - -"And you, Cyrus? The same, I suppose?" - -"No, sir. I'll have a cocoanut cake." - -Uncle Hector replaced the jar; then, as he laid the cocoanut cake in -the extended hand: - -"But you wanted the candy a minute ago; a whole dollar's worth." - -"That's when I was treatin' Ruth. I thought it would please her to -think I liked what she liked." - -"But you don't care for that candy?" - -"No, sir." - -Uncle Hector's face took on a new expression. He straightened up, -lowered his chin, regarded the small boy in front of him was a peculiar -look, bent forward and held an open palm quite close to the wondering -face. - -"Shake hands." - -Cyrus reached up and placed his small hand in the extended palm. - -The large hand closed over the little one. - -"Cyrus, you are a gentleman." - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -IV - -MATRIMONIAL - - -A June morning. - -The sky, this morning, is the bluest blue; the air delicious. There is -fragrance in it, of buds, new grass and flowers. Also, in the air, is -the joy of living, and the promise of even better things to come. - -But Ruth Heywood, sitting upon the front door step of her father's -house, seemed oblivious to the surrounding rapture. Her thoughts were -solemn. Half an hour ago she had witnessed a marriage in her own -parlor. Her father, a clergyman, had united two lovers in the bonds -of matrimony. The ceremony had deeply impressed the youthful witness, -curled up in the big arm chair near the window. And after the departure -of the happy couple she had been still further, and yet more deeply -impressed, by her father's explanation of what the ceremony meant. -Now, sitting in the sunshine on the front steps, her youthful mind was -struggling with the marriage problem. It certainly seemed a grand idea, -this bringing together of a man and woman to love each other dearly -all the rest of their lives, with no drawback, and to make each other -supremely happy, not only in this life but in the life to come. The -more she thought and the deeper she went into this inviting subject the -better she liked it. And she wondered why anybody should delay an hour -before entering the holy state. - -From this maiden dream of everlasting bliss she was gently awakened -by peculiar sounds. These sounds came from the lips of a jubilant -boy, dancing along the center of the street. If explanation were -necessary the sounds might be interpreted as a song of praise to the -Creator for producing such a perfect day in such a wondrous world. -To further emphasize the joy of living the boy's arms were swinging -above his head and his eyes were heavenward. He wore a blue and white -checkered shirt-waist, brown knickers, stockings of the same color and -copper-toed shoes. His hat, being a nuisance, had been left at home. - -With him was a dog. And the dog, even more than his master, seemed -intoxicated with present conditions. The fact of being alive had -stirred him to a wild activity. At dazzling speed he was describing -circles about the size of a circus ring around the singing boy. He -traveled like a thing possessed and with a velocity somewhat faster -than a shooting star. And the eyes of Ruth Heywood, although young and -active, blinked as they tried to follow him. - -She called. - -"Drowsy!" - -Cyrus stopped, turned about and made a sweeping bow. When he -straightened up the maiden beckoned, and said, "Come here." - -As he seated himself beside her, she asked: - -"Were you ever married, Cyrus?" - -For an instant the boy was taken aback. As he turned and looked into -the maiden's eyes, ready to carry on the joke, he saw those eyes were -more than serious: they were almost tragic in their earnestness. - -"Why, of course not! I'm too young." - -"No, nobody is too young. It's a lovely, beautiful thing and everybody -ought to do it." - -Cyrus was clearly surprised; but, always polite to ladies, he nodded -his appreciation of the new truth. "I didn't know. I thought only grown -folks got married." - -"No; it is everybody's duty. And it's my duty and yours, too." - -Cyrus' eyebrows went up. "Me? Mine?" - -"Yes. It's a beautiful thing and makes us all better. Father says so." - -"Did he say children, too?" - -Ruth hesitated. "He--he--said it makes everybody better--more -unselfish--and of course he meant nobody is too young to be made -better." - -Cyrus nodded. "I s'pose that's so." - -"And I want to marry you," said Ruth. - -Cyrus nodded. "I'm ready, if it's a good thing." - -"It's a lovely thing." - -"What's the kind of good that it does?" - -"It makes us better." - -"Yes, but--but in what ways is a feller better?" - -"Oh, in every way." - -"Can he play ball any better?" - -"I guess so." - -"Is a married feller stronger and can he run faster than the feller -that isn't married?" - -"Oh, yes." - -"Well, that's a good deal. Does it take long to have it done?" - -"Just a few minutes." - -As a new suspicion entered the mind of the prospective groom he edged -away a few inches. "Does it hurt?" - -"What hurt?" - -"Getting married. Does a dentist do it--or something like that?" - -Contemptuously the maiden answered. "'Course not! You are a very -ignorant boy. We just stand up before father and say 'I will,' and -'Yes' and 'It is' or 'I do' and short things like that. Father does all -the rest." - -Then Ruth explained the ceremony, and described minutely the scene she -had witnessed an hour ago in her own home. - -"That's easy enough," said Cyrus. "Anybody can say those things." - -"Everybody does it," said Ruth. - -Cyrus smiled; it seemed a smile of relief. "That's funny. I'd always -thought being married was kind of important, and kind of--kind -of--lasted a mighty long time." - -"It does. It lasts forever. That is why it is so beautiful and lovely. -Everybody is better forever and ever." - -Cyrus frowned. "I don't know." - -"Don't know what?" - -"I don't like the--the long time. S'pose we got enough of it. We'd have -to keep on just the same." - -"Oh, Cyrus! Would you get tired of me?" - -"No, 'course not! Nobody could ever do that! But s'pose I died in a few -days, would you have to be married all the rest of your life to a dead -boy?" - -"Yes, and I would be very faithful to your memory. I would never marry -anybody else and I would put lovely flowers on your grave every day." - -"Ho! I don't believe that!" - -"Yes I would!" - -Cyrus put both hands on his knees, stiffened his arms, straightened -up and drew a long breath of the morning air. "Anyway, I'd rather be -alive." - -"Of course you would! So would almost anybody for a time. But you are -very silly and ignorant if you think being married is going to kill -you." - -"'Course I don't!" - -"Then you mustn't say such things." - -"I guess I only just meant that if I was married I'd rather be alive -than dead. But what do we have to do after we are married?" - -"Oh, everything--just what other folks do, of course." - -"And what's that?" - -"Why--sit opposite each other at breakfast, go around together, and own -things together, and have the same pew at church. You at one end and me -at the other, with our children between us." - -Cyrus frowned. "Our children?" - -Ruth nodded. - -"But I never heard of a boy eight years old having real children." - -Ruth closed her eyes in solemn meditation. Cyrus, after waiting in vain -for an answer said, with a laugh: "Think of me with real children, -p'r'aps biggern I am! They could lick me in a fight." And he laughed. -"That is funny, isn't it?" And he gave her arm a shake, as if to wake -her up. - -At the sound of laughter Zac, sitting on the step below, cocked his -ears, wagged his tail and sidled up closer to Cyrus, who reached -forward, gathered up the loose skin at the back of Zac's neck and gave -him a friendly shake. - -"Anyway," said Ruth, "everybody ought to get married. Your father and -mother and my father and mother were all married." - -"Yes, I s'pose they were." - -"Of course they were. They would be ashamed not to. All good and wise -people marry. Why, King Solomon, who was wiser than anybody, had seven -hundred wives." - -"How many?" - -"Seven hundred." - -"Seven hundred! Oh, get out!" - -"But he did!" - -"Seven hundred, all alive at once?" - -"Yes." - -"Jimminy! That seems an awful lot for one man, doesn't it?" - -Ruth confessed that it did. - -"Nobody in Longfields has more than one, have they?" - -Ruth mentioned several citizens, but could recall none who had more -than one wife. - -"If one," said Cyrus, "is enough for men around here, why should your -Solomon need seven hundred?" - -"I don't know. Perhaps the Bible tells." - -"P'r'aps," said Cyrus, "he was homely or mean or something like that, -and instead of one good one he had to take seven hundred bad ones." - -"No, I don't believe it was that." - -Cyrus reflected a moment. "P'r'aps they were all mighty good and there -being so many of 'em was what made Solomon so wise." - -"I shouldn't wonder." - -There came a silence. Then Cyrus straightened up and spoke with -emphasis. "I just don't believe he or anybody else had seven hundred -wives. It's too many. It isn't likely, somehow. No feller would want -that much." - -"Why, Cyrus Alton! Don't you believe what the Bible says?" - -"Yes--I--I--'course I believe it if you and the Bible both say so, but -seven hundred does seem a mighty big lot." Then, as he looked away, -over the common, his eyes rested on two persons who stood talking -together across the way, and he asked: - -"Were Solomon's wives real live women like Mrs. Strong and Mrs. Clapp, -over there?" - -"Of course they were!" - -Cyrus closed his eyes. But through his ears came the thin, far -reaching, nasal voice of Mrs. Clapp. "Did seven hundred women like that -sit around the breakfast table with Solomon every morning?" - -"I s'pose they did." - -For an instant Cyrus faltered. He lowered his eyes and studied his -shoes with the copper toes. There might be a darker side to matrimony, -a noisier, less peaceful side, than Ruth had pictured. But, as he -turned and looked at his companion, it came upon him, like a ray of -sunshine that a hundred Ruths would be, oh, so very different from a -hundred Mrs. Clapps! - -"Did all those wives," he asked, "sit with Solomon in one pew on -Sunday?" - -Ruth made no answer. - -"Doesn't the Bible say anything about that?" - -"I don't remember." - -"Well, if they did, I say he must have had a mighty long pew. Do you -s'pose they all slept in the same bed?" - -"Perhaps." - -Cyrus laughed. "Seven hundred wives in one bed! Cracky! I guess old -Solomon slept on the floor!" - -He turned and smiled into the girl's face. But he saw no mirth, only -surprise and disapproval as the lovely eyes looked into his own. He was -learning his first lesson in the noble art of suppressing humor in the -presence of humorous things when taken seriously. And he blushed at -his own frivolity. Moreover, his sympathy for the much married Solomon -did not weaken his allegiance to the girl beside him. There was, to be -sure, a peculiar excitement in the idea of sitting at breakfast with -seven hundred Ruths entirely his own. Yet, somehow, the vision daunted -him. Even the vision of a hundred Ruths, all just alike, filled him -with a kind of awe--an awe of more things than he could ever live up -to. Seeking courage and consolation, he looked down into the face of -Zac as a companion more like himself--on a lower spiritual plane. Zac, -still sitting in front of them, always looking earnestly into the face -of whoever was speaking, appeared interested in the conversation. Cyrus -stroked his head, then stood up. - -"Let's go ahead with this marrying, if you say so. But where's the fun -of it?" - -"Oh, in doing such a beautiful thing--and being better." - -"There's no great fun in being better. We are good enough already." - -"Oh, Cyrus! Nobody is good enough already except our fathers and -mothers and ministers." - -Ruth's manner was solemn. The responsibility of the enterprise seemed -to rest entirely on her own shoulders. While she was deciding, with far -away look, on the next step, Cyrus said: - -"There's a big circus picture on Mr. Wade's barn, just stuck up this -morning. It has a great big tiger crawling up an elephant, and soldiers -fighting Indians, all big, in splendid colors! Come over and see it." - -Ruth frowned. In her very pretty eyes, as she turned them in sadness on -the prospective groom, was pity--the almost tearful yet contemptuous -pity with which Wisdom looks on Folly. - -"Cyrus, you are just a boy. You don't understand things." - -"Don't understand what things?" - -"How important this marriage is." - -"Oh, that's all right. I'm ready. Let's go ahead now and have it over -with. What do we do first?" - -"We must go in to father and ask him to marry us, just as he did those -people this morning." - -"All right. Come along." - -As the two children entered the house, Zac with a bark of joy bounced -into the hall ahead of them. It was a loud bark, a piercing, youthful -bark, that might disturb a dozen clergymen if working on their sermons. - -Ruth stopped. "Hush, you horrid dog!" - -"Zac, shut up!" said Cyrus. "Go back, and stay on the porch." - -But Zac preferred to accompany the expedition. Without openly refusing -to obey, he merely bounced about, just out of reach, wagged his tail -and smiled in the faces of the bride and groom. - -"Shall we let him come?" said Cyrus. - -Ruth hesitated, but only for an instant. "No. A dog barking at a -wedding would be unreligious." - -So Cyrus, by pleadings, threats and gentle force induced his more -worldly comrade to remain without. But he said good-by to him as he -turned away. For, in parting with this bachelor friend, he may have had -feelings in common with other matrimonial heroes when marching to the -altar. - -Meanwhile, the Rev. George Bentley Heywood, father of the prospective -bride, stood at the west window of his study. His thoughts were far -away. In his hand was a letter from a friend in China. This friend, -a missionary, had presented, in eloquent and convincing words, the -various joys, spiritual, material and social that attended the servant -of God when converting the heathen of the Orient. - -Mr. Heywood's imagination had responded to the winged words and was -already disporting itself in the Chinese vineyard. There had been other -letters, all with the same message. And, now, standing at the window -with the letter in his hand, he was thinking, and thinking hard, over -the most important decision of his life. - -Mr. Heywood was a serious man. Upon his person lay no superfluous -flesh. His face, otherwise severe, was tempered by the eyes of a -poet--eyes of a gentle, somewhat solemn beauty. They were pleasant to -look into. Ruth had inherited these eyes, and in her childish face they -shone with an added beauty. They were dreamy eyes, a soft brown-black -with blacker lashes, and either tragic or mirthful, as occasion called. - -When the study door opened--with no preliminary knock--there was -annoyance in the clergyman's manner as his eyes turned toward the -intruder. This time there were two intruders,--Cyrus and his fiancee. -Mr. Heywood frowned when the two small people advanced to the center of -the room. He was in no mood for answering children's questions. But, as -he frowned, Cyrus bowed--one of his best and most elaborate efforts, -bringing the heel of one foot against the instep of the other, all -with a gracious, sweeping salutation of his free hand--the one that -was not leading Ruth. It was the greeting of one gentleman of the old -school to another, of deference and good wishes. Mr. Heywood, partly, -perhaps, from his thoughts being in China, found himself also bowing -deferentially, as if to some exalted and venerable person. Suddenly -realizing the absurdity of such an obeisance he straightened up and -frowned again. Then he spoke more harshly than if he had not blundered -into such a foolish action. - -"Well, children, what is it?" - -Cyrus spoke. "We have come to get married." - -"Who?" - -"We. We--us." - -"What do you mean?" - -"Ruth and I want to get married." - -Mr. Heywood frowned again and blinked, as if to summon his wandering -wits, undecided whether to believe or doubt his eyes and ears. His -thoughts, barely returned from China, seemed unequal to a sudden grasp -of the situation. - -"What are you saying?" - -"I am saying that Ruth and I want to get married." - -"Whose idea is this?" - -"Mine," said Ruth. - -As the father met the earnest eyes of his daughter he almost smiled. - -"Where did you get such an idea, Ruth?" - -"From seeing the people you married this morning. You said marriage was -a beautiful thing." - -"So it is. So it is. But that was very different. Only grown people -marry, so run away, children. I have no time for play this morning." -And he turned away and sat down at his desk. - -"But, Mr. Heywood," said Cyrus, "this is not play. This is important." - -"Important? Why important, Cyrus?" - -"'Cause Ruth wants it." - -This time Mr. Heywood smiled. "That's a good sentiment, Cyrus. It shows -a kind regard for the lady. But run away, both of you. I am very busy -this morning." - -"But, Mr. Heywood," said Cyrus, "what's Ruth done that she should be -punished and not have what she wants, and wants ever so much?" - -"How punished?" - -"By not getting what she wants." - -"And what do you say she wants?" - -"Me." - -The father laughed. "Oh, it's you she wants, is it?" - -"Yes, sir." - -Mr. Heywood drew a hand slowly across his mouth as he looked -inquiringly at Ruth. - -Ruth smiled and nodded. "Yes, sir." - -Her father also nodded as in polite recognition of her wishes. Turning -to Cyrus, he inquired, "What are you going to live on? What is going to -be your business?" - -"I'm going to be a discoverer, like Columbus." - -"I am afraid there won't be much left to discover by the time you are -a man--not on this earth, at least. The big continents are already -discovered." - -"But there will be new countries at the bottom of the sea, and under -the earth and on the moon, and such places." - -"On _such_ places! Dear me, Cyrus, do you think of taking your wife to -the moon?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"But how will you be supporting Ruth all that time? A husband should be -earning money." - -"Oh, that part'll be all right! I'm going to be a train robber." - -"A train robber!" - -"Yes, sir." - -Mr. Heywood whistled softly and looked at his daughter. "Well--now--is -that a nice business, Ruth, for a model husband? Do you want to marry a -train robber?" - -Ruth smiled and nodded. "Yes, I shall always like Cyrus and whatever he -does." - -"But suppose Cyrus is imprisoned for life, or hanged, as often happens -to train robbers?" - -Cyrus interrupted, and spoke contemptuously. "No, I shan't be that -kind! It's only the stupid ones that's caught!" - -Mr. Heywood closed his eyes for a moment and appeared to be thinking it -over. "Of course, it's possible,--just possible, that you may change -your mind as you get older." - -"No, sir. 'Cause a man gets lots of money that way and gets it quick -and easy. And there'll be jewelry, too. I shall give the jewelry to -Ruth." - -"And I," said Ruth, "shall give lots of it to mother. Mother likes -jewelry." - -"Yes," said Mr. Heywood, "most women do. But isn't stolen jewelry a -little----" - -Again Cyrus interrupted. "But that won't be stolen jewelry. When you -steal anything you get it when the other feller isn't looking--kind of -sneakin'. I shall take it right before their faces." - -"Yes, but you threaten to kill them if they resist. That's robbery, -isn't it?" - -"Yes, sir, but robbery isn't like stealing. It's more--more--it's -braver." - -"Braver? Possibly. And you really consider robbery an honorable -business?" - -"Oh, yes." - -"And I can help him," said Ruth; "we would work together." - -Mr. Heywood looked from the cherubic lips of the groom into the clear -eyes of his superlatively conscientious little daughter and murmured: -"Yes, you would be of great assistance." Then, after a pause: - -"Now, Cyrus, you and Ruth come to me twenty years hence and if we are -all alive and Ruth still wants you I have no doubt we can arrange a -wedding." - -"Twenty years!" exclaimed Ruth. "Why, father, we shall all be dead!" - -"Oh, no! I trust not." - -"Or too old--too awful old!" - -"No, indeed! You will be twenty-seven. Call it fourteen years, then you -will be only twenty-one." - -"But," said Cyrus, "we may forget all about it in fourteen years." - -"Then it will be no disappointment to you if you can't marry. But run -along now, children, I have no more time for you." He spoke with such -decision as he began reading the letter in his hand that the unmarried -couple turned about and slowly vanished. - -When they passed out into the open air, a stranger might have thought, -from the manner in which Zac bounced with joy and lifted up his voice, -that Cyrus was emerging from the Valley of the Shadow of Death. As they -stood again on the porch, the corners of Ruth's mouth were drooping. -There were tears in her irresistible eyes. Cyrus laid his hands on her -shoulders. - -"Now don't you feel bad, Ruthy. If you want to be married, we just -will." - -The maiden shook her head. "He said not." - -"No, he didn't. He only said he was busy." - -"He said only grown people got married." - -"But he didn't say children couldn't if they wanted to." - -In the maiden's face came a brighter look. "Yes, that is true, isn't -it?" - -"'Course it is! And we will be doing something new and different. It -makes folks famous to be the first to do things. Look at Christopher -Columbus, and look at Benjamin Franklin, the first man to fly a kite -and steer lightnin' and make it mind him." - -"Was he married when he was a child?" - -"Nobody knows. But if you and I are the first children to get -married--the very first, why our pictures might be in history books." - -Ruth laughed. "That would be funny, wouldn't it?" - -"Yes, wouldn't it! And under it would be printed Mr. and Mrs. Ruth -Heywood." - -"Oh, no! It would be Mr. and Mrs. Cyrus Alton. It's always that way." - -"Then we'll be the first ones to do it the new way. We needn't do just -like everybody else. But who's going to wait fourteen years. Not us! If -your father is too busy to do it, we'll get somebody else." - -"Who?" - -"I dunno." And he looked away toward the common and became thoughtful. - -Now Cyrus' ideas of matrimony were vague, and impersonal. As a game -it had never interested him. He had given it no attention. On some -other subject he had definite views--such as war, baseball, voyages of -discovery, balloons, maple sugar, battleships and the different kinds -of ice cream. But this marriage business, now that Ruth wanted it, -had suddenly become important. And when Ruth really wanted a thing he -felt that reason, religion and the Laws of Man and Nature should stand -aside. Moreover, Cyrus was no quitter. He was not of those who are -easily discouraged. Persistence, the sort that stiffens in disaster, -was one of his dominant traits. A precious gift on occasions; but there -were times, in the bosom of his own family, when it was not admired. As -guides to character the drowsy eyes and cherubic mouth were, in this -particular, misleading. Behind them lay the tenacity of purpose which -so often transforms defeat into victory. In this present emergency -there seemed to him especial demand for achievement. Ruth wanted -something and when Ruth wanted something it was not for him, nor for -others, to reason why. - -So now, while the bride, crushed to earth, was mourning the downfall -of a high endeavor, her companion had not accepted defeat. With roving -eyes and tight shut mouth he was seeking some other road to victory. - -Inspiration came. - -Seeing no road to victory, up or down the village street, his eyes -turned heavenward. As they rested on the spire of the Unitarian -church, just across the way, there came an answer to his appeal. It -came through the open windows of the church--the notes of an organ. He -turned and seized his fiancee by an arm. - -"Ruth! Listen!" - -"To what?" - -"To that music! It's Horace Phillips practising on the organ!" - -Ruth nodded in acknowledgment of the fact, but she saw no relation -between the music and their late rebuff. - -"We can go right over there and get married," said Cyrus. "It doesn't -matter who does it so long as it is in a church and there's music." - -"Are you sure?" - -"Yes, of course! Ask anybody." - -There was nobody to ask, so he took her by the hand and started -forward. She held back. He pulled harder. "Come along. There's the -church all open; and the organ playing. It's just the place to be -married." - -She yielded. "But there's no minister to do it." - -"That don't make any difference. As long as we are married in a church -with music, anybody can do it." - -He spoke with authority--the kind that carries conviction and puts an -end to controversy. - -As they started, however, she again held back, and exclaimed, in a -final despair, "Oh, I forgot!" - -"Forgot what?" - -"The ring. We have to have a ring." - -"What's the use of a ring?" - -"Nobody is married without a ring. The man puts a ring on the woman's -finger and says things." - -"Well--I can say the things and we'll just play there's a ring." - -"No." - -"Oh, come along!" - -"No." - -Now Cyrus had become interested in this business. He felt a pride in -carrying it through. To fail now would be disgrace. In vexation he -raised his right hand--the one not holding Ruth's--and thrust its thumb -between his teeth. On that hand something glistened. - -"Why, there's a ring!" exclaimed Ruth, "right on your finger! Isn't it -lucky." - -Cyrus regarded the little silver band. - -Ruth repeated: "Isn't it lucky!" - -Cyrus hesitated. "Do I have to give it to you?" - -"Yes." - -"For you to keep and not give back?" - -"Yes, of course!" - -"But Henry Wheelock made it for me out of a ten-cent piece. I've only -had it a little while." - -"Oh, Cyrus! Would you be so mean as that?" - -"I'm not mean! You know I'm not mean! Henry Wheelock made it out of my -own ten-cent piece and I--I--don't want to lose it." - -A look of sorrow in Ruth's eyes suddenly changed to contempt. "Then -keep your old ring! I'm sure I don't want it." And she pulled away the -hand that was in his, wheeled about and started to reenter the house. -But Cyrus caught her by the arm. - -"Oh, that's all right, Ruthy! You shall have it. Come. Don't let's -fight." - -So began this lovers' quarrel. But as often happens, the male of -the species besought and appealed, apologized, promised everything, -acknowledged guilt and sufficiently humbled himself until Sweet Peace -returned. Then all was forgiven, and a second time they started for the -church. Zac brought up the rear. - -On the church steps sat Luther Dean and the New Boy. The New Boy had -lived in Longfields only a few weeks. He differed, in many ways, -from the other boys of the village. He was blase, and older in his -feelings; he came from a larger town and had seen more of the world. -His tendency, now,--natural, perhaps, but unrepressed--was to despise -more simple people. He gave the impression among still younger boys -of having crowded into his ten years of life a red career of war and -piracy, of wild adventure, of reckless deeds and thrilling escapes. -These experiences were rather suggested than described, always in a -casual off-hand way, calmly and without excitement, in a voice and -manner tempered by the wisdom of the ages. And his eyes, light blue -and frigidly serene, moved slowly from one listener to another in a -weary but patient condescension. His usual haunts, it appeared, were -the upper ether, and the deep sea, the canon and the prairie, the -impenetrable forest, the decks of battleships and fields of carnage. - -As the bridal couple approached the steps, Cyrus called to Luther -Dean and beckoned to him. Luther came forward. So also did the New -Boy--the Budding Outlaw--although he was not invited; and his presence -embarrassed Cyrus, for this was a private business, in a sense, and -not for the general public. Besides, Cyrus did not like the New Boy. -However, he braced up and put on a careless front. - -"We want you to marry us, Luther, now, here in the church." - -Luther frowned, then smiled. "Me? Marry?" - -"Yes, marry us--Ruth and me." - -"Golly! I--I--never married anybody." - -"That don't matter. Anybody can do it." - -"But I'm too young. It takes a man." - -"No, it doesn't. Ruth can tell you what to say. It's all easy. Come -along." - -They entered the church; but Zac, like many of his kind, was -unpleasantly affected by music, so he remained outside. - -Up the main aisle they started, Luther in front, the bride and groom -behind, holding hands. In the gallery above Horace Phillips was -practising various tunes, and the voice of the great organ filled the -church. To the bride and groom, both lovers of music, the notes of the -organ seemed more impressive than ever in the now empty building. - -But the wedding procession had barely started up the aisle when the -ceremonies were rudely interrupted. The Budding Outlaw, smarting -perhaps at being ignored, followed close behind and yielded to a -vengeful impulse. Ruth's hair, gathered by a ribbon behind her head, -was flowing down her back like a golden mane. The Budding Outlaw -reached forth and seized a handful, then gave it a violent jerk, as if -driving a horse, and he said, - -"Hi there! Giddap; giddap!" - -Ruth cried aloud in pain, "Stop it! Oh, stop it! It hurts!" - -She could not turn her head, but raised her hands in vain efforts at -protection. - -Cyrus wheeled about. "Let go that hair!" - -And he scowled in anger at the aggressor. But the aggressor merely -renewed the twitchings with: "Giddap hossey. Giddap." - -"Let go that hair," once more said Cyrus. - -The Budding Outlaw, for answer, twitched the golden hair again, and -harder than before. As Ruth in helpless agony was still raising her -hands to her head, Cyrus aimed a blow at the Budding Outlaw and hit -him in the face. But the Budding Outlaw was one year older and one -year bigger than Cyrus, and twenty years cooler, more cynical and more -blase. So, without even loosening his hold on the bride's hair, he -struck out with his free hand and landed full on Cyrus's mouth. The -blow was so well directed that the recipient staggered back and stood -for a second or two as if dazed. On the Budding Outlaw's face was a -smile of easy victory--and contempt. Cyrus saw it. In Ruth's face he -saw torture and helpless anger. Then he threw himself again at the -enemy. And again the enemy without loosening his left-hand clutch on -the golden hair, sent his fist against the approaching face, landing -full on its nose and followed it by a sudden push. Cyrus staggered back -across the aisle and leaned against the nearest pew. He blinked, and -drew a hand across his bleeding mouth. His nose seemed--to him--about -twice its usual size and rapidly growing bigger. Then Ruth, forgetting -her own pain, cried out: - -"Oh, Luther, Luther! Help Cyrus!" - -But, either from wisdom or some other reason, Luther refrained from -interfering. He looked at Ruth, then down at the floor, then up again -at the Budding Outlaw, now terrible in his easy triumph. Ruth called -again to him, yet more urgent--a passionate appeal for help. It was the -cry of one old playmate to another, for the rescue of a bosom friend. -But the organ above was pouring forth its music and Luther turned away, -pretending not to hear the cry. - -Cyrus, during this moment's lull, did some rapid thinking. He saw the -folly of his previous attacks. So, as Ruth was uttering her second -appeal to his lukewarm friend, he advanced again, but more slowly than -before, ducked his head and dodged a blow, then jumped, and closed with -the enemy. And to the Budding Outlaw it seemed as if a dozen boys were -on him. Blows rained upon his face. Copper toed shoes were hammering, -with the rage of demons, against his sensitive shins. He let go the -maiden's hair, as all his hands were none too many for this peaceable -boy now suddenly transformed into a reckless and bloodthirsty athlete. -He could not reach Cyrus's face, as that face, for protection, was -pressed close against the Outlaw's own chest. And when, at last, he got -both hands against Cyrus's face and body to push him off he felt ten -fingers tighten about his throat with a grip that scared him. For now, -as the two iron thumbs were pressing his windpipe with murderous power, -he realized that this boy was fighting with the fury and the strength -of those who fight for victory or for death. He gurgled, gasped, pulled -Cyrus's hair and beat wildly at his head. But when a man is fighting -for the woman of his choice--or for any other holy cause--he has the -strength of many. So with Cyrus. The tearing of his hair, the blows -upon his head and face and body were as summer zephyrs. For him, at -the moment, death could have no terrors. He was in this struggle for -victory or annihilation. - -No boy can live without breathing, and the Budding Outlaw's strength -was going. Cyrus forced him to the floor. Then, knowing nothing of the -Rules of the Ring, he hammered him in the face and jammed his knees -into his stomach, as if to kill. - -At last, after a final blow and jab and kick, he climbed to his feet, -stepped back and looked down at him. Ruth seized him by an arm and -tried to drag him from the church. - -"Come! Come quick, before he gets up!" - -But a change had come over the once peaceful groom. The lust of battle -was in him. He paid no attention to her words. Breathing hard, with -bruises on his face, his lips bleeding, he beckoned to the figure on -the floor as if angry at delay: - -"Come along. Get up." - -But the Dare-devil of the West, the killer of Indians, the Pirates' -Terror, had no intention of rising. Enough was sufficient for this -Despiser of Peace, this Tormentor of Brides. To fight in orderly -fashion with a boy you know you can lick--that's one thing. But to -struggle with wild animals, cyclones and supernatural forces that -ignore the rules of war and really mean to kill you, and will,--unless -you can get away,--that's very different. Moreover, something was -telling him now that a big will in a little body can demolish giants. -He knew he was stronger than Cyrus, but the thing with which he had so -suddenly become acquainted was the spirit within this smaller boy--the -same old spirit that stirred the Greeks at Marathon, and the handful -of Lexington farmers. And now, before him, with the swelling nose and -bleeding lips, glowered the embodiment of that immortal spirit. The -Tormentor of Brides suspected, and his suspicions were correct, that -if he hurled this boy a dozen times against the opposite pews he would -still come at him, and each assault would be more deadly than its -predecessor. - -Cyrus, again ignoring the Rules of the Ring, stepped forward and kicked -him. "Come, get up! Get up. Finish it!" - -Slowly the New Boy shook his head, with a gesture of defeat. He -muttered something too low to hear--words drowned in the notes of the -organ. He refused to rise. - -Then Cyrus turned and held out his hand to Ruth. In drawing the back -of a fist across his mouth during the conflict his cheeks had become -smeared with blood. As Ruth stared in a kind of terror at this gory -visage with riotous hair, swelling nose and still bleeding lips, she -saw in the erstwhile drowsy eyes a look that was unfamiliar; a look -of determination, as if no arguments from God or man or devil would -be considered. Weak and all atremble, her one desire was for hurrying -home. But she obeyed the unspoken mandate and laid her hand in his. -Then Luther, also in obedience to an unspoken command, this time a -peremptory gesture toward the pulpit, again started up the aisle. -And it so happened as the little assemblage resumed its interrupted -progress the great organ in the gallery burst forth with Wagner's -"Wedding March"; and it filled the church. - -The marriage ceremony passed off well;--that is, of course,--making -allowance for the officiating person who had no knowledge of what he -ought to say, or of what he was saying. With constant promptings and -corrections from the bride--who although somewhat hysterical at the -moment, had a remarkable memory for the sound of words--Luther managed -to get along. To misunderstand certain promptings was excusable, for -the music was confusing. Horace Phillips, in the gallery, ignorant -of what was happening below, had started off with the full force of -the organ, and he continued with enthusiasm until the swelling notes -resounded through the empty building. - -Ruth supplied all the language. - -_Luther._ Will you take this wedded girl for your wife? - -_Cyrus._ I will. - -_Luther._ Will you take this wedded boy for your husband? - -_Ruth._ I will. - -_Luther._ Do you promise to endure with all your worldly goods? - -_Cyrus._ I do. - -_Luther._ Will you hold on for better than worse? - -_Ruth._ I will. - -_Luther._ You promise to obey? - -_Cyrus._ I do. - -_Luther._ Until death departs, richer or poorer and cherish. - -_Ruth._ I do. - -_Cyrus._ It is. - -_Luther._ I denounce you as man and wife. - -_Cyrus._ I do. - -_Ruth._ No, Cyrus, you say nothing. - -_Cyrus._ Nothing. - -_Ruth._ No, no! You don't say anything--just keep still. - -_Luther._ With this ring I you wed. - -_Cyrus._ No. _I_ say that! - -He said it, and with heroic self-control bade a silent farewell to his -silver treasure as he slipped it on a finger of the bride. Then, to the -rejoicing music, they marched down the aisle. - -Outside the church the bride, who feared a renewal of the conflict, -looked about with anxious eyes for the Budding Outlaw. But she had no -cause for alarm. The Budding Outlaw was visible, far down the street, -beyond the common, marching with humble mien, reflecting sadly on the -uncertainties of human life. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -V - -HE MEETS TWO LADIES - - -Miss Anita Clement was the maiden lady who had rented, with her two -unmarried sisters, Mr. David Lothrop's house at the west end of the -village. She had a girlish figure, good features and soulful eyes. -Her exact age was somewhere between twenty-five and forty. This -lady's delicate beauty was impaired a trifle by a nervous mouth which -told, in spite of all efforts to the contrary, that its owner was -easily annoyed, and was a stranger to the various blessings of a -tranquil spirit. She had no sense of humor; but this deficiency was -counterbalanced by a profound respect for the conventions of life, and -by a sincere and humble adoration of her own religious creed, with -a corresponding contempt for all others. Her dominant attribute was -timidity. Compared with Miss Clement, the average mouse was a fearless -desperado. As is usually the case with such temperaments, her nerves -were assertive. - -This particular November afternoon they seemed to have started a revolt -throughout her whole interior mechanism; and she decided to consult a -physician. So she walked out to Dr. Alton's house. On this walk--about -two miles--she passed a group of boys playing with a football. Now -boys, to Miss Clement, were the living emblems of noise and danger. Her -one dread concerning a future existence was the possibility of there -being boys in Heaven. And, in this life, the things she dreaded most -were fire, burglars, run-away horses, smallpox and boys. Her sympathy -with boys was akin to her sympathy with thunderstorms and pirates. In -passing boys in the street or on the common she held her breath in -nervous terror, expecting to be struck by a baseball, or bat or stone, -green apple or snow-ball, according to season. Only in color and in -clothing did she recognize any difference between boys and Comanche -Indians. She loved Law and Order; whereas, to a boy, Law and Order were -merely bars to freedom. She had reasons for believing that the highest -ambition of every normal boy under twelve years of age was to become an -influential outlaw. And she was not far wrong. - -This being Saturday afternoon, and no school, the earth seemed swarming -with these offensive creatures. However, by going around the common -instead of across it, she reached Dr. Alton's house alive--and rang -the bell. The door was opened by yet another boy, eight or nine years -of age. Miss Clement, being a newcomer in the town, had not the honor -of this child's acquaintance. Knowing all boys to be barbarians, with -no manners, she was surprised when this one acknowledged her presence -with a smile of welcome and a ceremonious bow. It was the kind of -salutation that Louis XIV would have given to the Queen of Spain. She -might have expected it from an elderly dancing master, but never from -a boy in this New England village. Taken by surprise, she was silent -a moment, fearing this youthful savage, perhaps more uncivilized even -than other boys, was amusing himself at her expense. A good look at his -face, however, allayed suspicion. In his calm eyes and radiant smile -there was nothing but pleasure at seeing her. Beside him stood--or -rather bounced--a youthful dog. He was a fox terrier. Judging from the -activity of his tail and from the general expression of his person, -the arrival of the visitor was affording him joy and excitement. In a -tentative bark he told his welcome. - -But Miss Clement hesitated. Her dread of boys was only equaled by -her aversion to dogs. How a civilized person could live in the -same house with a dog she had never been able to understand. Their -manners and customs were unspeakable. And the exuberant vitality -of this dog annoyed her. His joy was unreasoning and intemperate. -He wagged his tail with such energy as to sway his entire person. -Judging from outward vibrations his very soul was wagging. He gave the -impression--to this visitor--of having a frivolous nature. And she -found solace in the thought that, later on, he would be made to realize -that life was a serious thing. - -"Is Dr. Alton at home?" she inquired. - -"No, ma'am," - -"Do you know when he will return?" - -"Oh, very soon! Won't you walk in?" and he stepped aside, holding the -door wide open. At the same time, he waved with his free hand a courtly -gesture toward the interior of the house. Inwardly disturbed by this -unexpected deportment of a barbarian, Miss Clement walked into the -sitting-room and seated herself on a sofa, near the open fire. It was a -large cheerful room with white woodwork and a pale green paper on the -walls, somewhat faded in places near the sunny windows. Scattered over -the large center table were many books and periodicals. On the floor -in front of her was a pair of scissors and a family Bible. The Bible -was open and three of its illustrations, recently extracted, were lying -beside it. The author of this mutilation climbed into a large arm chair -directly opposite, sitting very erect, as if on his best behavior. He -was watching her with undisguised interest and approval. - -But the dog was inclined to be familiar. He jammed his nose against -her skirt and ankles and sniffed in a most offensive way. The boy saw -that these things annoyed her and he called off the brute, rebuked him -and apologized to the visitor. "I guess you have a dog, and Zac smells -him." - -Miss Clement, with some severity, denied the accusation. "Indeed, I -have no dog." And it was clear from her manner that she had no such -associates. - -Now all boys were alike to Miss Clement. The only striking features in -this one's face were his eyes. Their heavy lids, coming far down over -the iris, gave a half shut, drowsy look to his face, and Miss Clement -felt sorry that his parents should be afflicted with such a stupid -child. His fat, cherubic little mouth, however, seemed to indicate a -cheerful spirit. As the two sat facing each other, the young male and -the adult super-civilized female, the lady from some undefined reason -felt ill at ease. Yet she knew that nothing was more absurd than a -woman of her age being ill at ease in the presence of a nine-year-old -boy. As she looked again into his eyes she began to realize that their -very drowsiness gave an impression of abnormal serenity and repose--as -of concealing hidden depths of wisdom. Also they seemed to be sitting -in judgment on her. The fact of his being a boy aroused antipathy. -Although she knew that many good men had once been boys, as certain -butterflies have once been worms. Moreover, she knew it was not really -his own fault that he had come into the world in that form. They were -necessary evils, like taxes and old age. - -"Are you Dr. Alton's son?" she asked. - -"Yes, ma'am." - -"What is your name?" - -"Cyrus." - -While Miss Clement was wondering why New Englanders persisted in -giving such names to helpless children she was startled by his saying, -regretfully: - -"You don't like that name." - -"Not like it? Why do you think I don't like it?" - -"I know by your face." - -Miss Clement blushed. The tranquil eyes were looking sadly into her own -as if investigating in a friendly way her most secret thoughts. She -became embarrassed. - -"Why, yes--I like it." - -"It is better than some other names." - -"Indeed it is! Very much better!" - -"It is the name of a great conqueror." - -"Yes--of course--and--perhaps you may be a great conqueror yourself -when you grow up." - -"No. I don't care for that business. I shall sit on the high seat of -a big, gold band-wagon of a circus full of splendid music, with eight -white horses. I shall drive the horses and listen to the music." - -"Yes, that will be very nice." - -The room seemed warm after the November chill outside, and Miss Clement -drew off her thick gloves. As her left hand dropped carelessly beside -her, upon the edge of the sofa, she felt a sickening contact with -something warm and very wet. Quickly she withdrew the hand. With an -exclamation of disgust, she held aloft the befouled member. But the -dog, whose generous tongue by one lingering stroke yielded such a vast -amount of moisture, had risen upon his hind legs to accomplish it, and -now stood looking up into her face for recognition of the friendly -act. His reward was a look of loathing. And for a moment she still held -aloft the varnished hand, uncertain what to do. - -The boy laughed. "Why, it's nothing but dog spit!" - -He drew forth from his pocket a handkerchief. - -With two steps forward he offered it to the lady. As he did so he bowed -with the pretentious grace of a Chesterfield advancing to the relief -of Beauty. But Miss Clement recoiled. For on this handkerchief were -blood stains--also mud--and green paint. Too much disgusted to think of -manners, she ignored his offer and used her own handkerchief. But she -shrank from replacing it in a clean pocket. - -Looking down at the floor she frowned. - -"I hope it was not you who cut those pictures from that nice book." - -The Vandal smiled, and nodded, giving the impression of pride in the -work. - -"Are you the only person in the house?" she asked. - -"Yes, ma'am. Joanna's gone to the store." - -Again she frowned down at the litter on the floor. "Does your mother -know what you have been doing here?" - -"Oh, no!" - -"Has she never told you not to cut up books?" - -"No, ma'am." - -Miss Clement frowned again, and stiffened a little. - -"And your father? Does he allow you to do such things?" - -"I don't know. I didn't ask him. Are you fond of pictures?" - -"Yes--I am fond of pictures." - -He got down from his chair, picked up the three engravings, came and -stood beside her, leaning against her knees. He laid the pictures in -her lap and asked which she liked the best. - -One engraving showed Joshua commanding the sun to stand still; one -showed Elijah going to Heaven in his fiery chariot; and the other--she -almost blushed as she looked at it--showed Susanna and the elders. -Susanna wore no clothing and the elders were shocking old men. - -"Which do you like best?" he repeated. - -She pointed to Joshua. - -"Which next?" - -She pointed to Elijah. - -"Now--I don't care for that feller himself," he said, "but I like -the pretty lady. Best of all, though, I think, is the horses and the -chariot going right up into the sky. Just think of it!" he exclaimed; -"just think of going way up into the sky! I think I shall do it myself! -Did he really go up that way with those fat horses?" - -"No, I think not." - -"Then it's a fairy story." - -"No, it's a Bible story." - -"What's the difference?" - -"Bible stories are true stories and fairy tales are made-up stories." - -"But you just said this man didn't go up to Heaven with a span of -horses." - -"Not in just that way--probably." - -"Did he go up at all?" - -Miss Clement hesitated. "Well--I suppose he did, perhaps." - -"I betcher he couldn't go up in any way like that with horses treading -on nothing but air." - -Miss Clement had not come to this house for a theological argument. But -she said nothing and merely heaved a sigh, a sigh of weariness. - -But the boy was still fresh. "What was this man's name?" - -"Elijah." - -"Elijah what?" - -"I don't think he had a last name." - -"Where did he live?" - -"Off in the East." - -"If any one should write him a letter, asking him how he went up that -way, and addressed the envelope just Elijah, off in the Yeast--would he -get it?" - -"Oh, no; he died long, long ago. - -"Well, anyway, I am going up myself, some day, but not with horses. -Horses couldn't do it. When I go I shall go with a kite, a big kite -with a long string. I shall have a box kite. You know what a box kite -is?" - -"I think so." - -"Well, it will be a big box kite longer'n this room, with me sitting -inside and Luther Dean flying it. When it gets ten miles up in the air -I shall reach down with long scissors and cut the string." - -As he stepped back to study the effect of this news, she found his -drowsy eyes were no longer drowsy, but wider open and all aglow with -enthusiasm. "That's my own idea!" - -She smiled and nodded. "Yes, it is very original." - -"And then I shall sail way up as high as I want to. Perhaps to the -moon!" - -"Yes, that will be very nice." - -"What's the use of crawling about on the earth like a bug? I'd rather -be a bird." - -Miss Clement nodded assent and lowered her eyes to the mutilated Bible. -But his enthusiasm was contagious. She almost believed, for a moment, -that he could do it. However, she was uncomfortable in the presence -of this barbarian. She knew, from experience, the awful frankness of -a boy; the statements he can make, and his cruel questions; questions -that upheave religions, that lay bare your secret doubtings and -impugn the wisdom and the motives of the Creator himself. A boy's -thirsty, delving little mind is never satisfied with your easy answer -that "the ways of the Almighty are inscrutable." As this interview -proceeded she realized--and to her chagrin--that there was something -about this vandal that caused her a peculiar kind of restraint and -self-consciousness--almost diffidence. Being distinctly a nervous -person and gently irritated at her own self-consciousness, Miss Clement -looked about the room, over the boy's head, with an expression -somewhat more severe than the situation required. But his instincts of -hospitality were not so easily suppressed. Pointing to a dish of fruit -on a further table, he asked: - -"Won't you have an apple?" - -"No, I thank you." - -He seemed disappointed. Then as his eyes rested on a little music box -that lay on the table beside him, he exclaimed, with enthusiasm: "You -like good music?" - -In her own voice there was less enthusiasm as she answered, "Yes, -I--think I--do." - -Miss Clement suddenly realized--as happens with nervous people--that -she was annoyed by these foolish questions. Instead of replying she -straightened up and looked first at the clock, then at the boy. She -found him gazing at her earnestly, as if trying to read her thoughts. - -"This music box," he said, with signs of embarrassment, "plays five -lovely tunes: The Last Rose of Summer, Hear Me, Norma, The Carnival of -Ven----" - -"Not now," she interrupted. - -Had her host been an older man, with a knowledge of women--if such is -possible--this unexpected change of manner would have been a warning. - -"It's four o'clock," she added hastily, and her smiles had vanished. -"Are you the only person in the house?" - -Taken aback, and obviously mortified by this sudden change of manner, -he took a backward step and replaced the music box on the table. In -his face, with a slight quivering of the lips, came the first signs of -embarrassment he had shown. He bowed: not the gracious, self-possessed, -courtly salutation of a kingly welcome with which he had first -greeted her, but a solemn inclination of the head, as one who humbles -himself--but gracefully--before an angry deity. And he murmured: - -"I am sorry." - -Her eyebrows went up. "Sorry for what?" - -"I don't know--exactly." - -For an instant she failed to understand. Then into her face came a -gentler expression. "Yes, you do! You are sorry because you think you -have troubled me; but it is I who beg your pardon. I am ashamed of -myself. You have given me a lesson in politeness." - -And she smiled her sweetest smile. Whereupon the sunshine returned -to his own face. Encouraged by this change of atmosphere, he resumed -with new courage his role of host. For a moment he studied her face, -uncertain as to what was expected of him. Folding his hands above his -head, he glanced about the room, searching for inspiration. It came. -His face brightened. The slumbrous eyes sparkled. Coming a step nearer, -he demanded with suppressed enthusiasm: - -"Do you care for snakes or mice?" - -The visitor regarded him with a kind of terror. - -She frowned, turned her face to one side and shook her head. The host -misunderstood the movement. - -"But it's no trouble. I can get them both. They are right here in the -woodshed." And he started toward the door. - -"Come back," she said, "I don't care to see either of them." - -"But the snake is dead and the mouse won't bite. He knows me." - -Miss Clement shuddered: "No! No! Don't speak of them again! Come back." - -He came back. She knew, and had always known, that boys themselves were -a species of reptile. She felt, at this moment, that whatever this boy -did must be regarded from that point of view--and forgiven. And as she -wondered how a benevolent Creator could permit, in a decently ordered -world, the existence of boys, the Vandal exclaimed in a reflective -tone, but with a smile of amusement: - -"Women are funny!" - -At that moment the grandfather clock in the corner struck four. Miss -Clement frowned in that direction. "When did Dr. Alton say he would be -back?" - -"He didn't say." - -"But you told me he would return soon." - -"Yes, ma'am." - -"But you really don't know when?" - -"No, ma'am." - -"Then you told a fib." - -The Vandal smiled and nodded. "Yes, ma'am." - -"But that is wrong, you know. You should always tell the truth." - -"Yes, ma'am. But I thought it would be good to have you come in, and -sit." - -Miss Clement almost frowned and smiled in one expression. "But you did -wrong. Doesn't your mother punish you for telling such fibs?" - -"No, ma'am." - -"Is she not at home?" - -"Oh, no!" - -"When do you expect her?" - -"Oh, never!" - -"Never?" - -The drowsy eyes, in astonishment, opened a little wider. "Of course -not. She is dead." - -"Oh, that is too bad! I am very sorry. Was it long ago that she died?" - -"Oh, yes! Long, long ago. More than twenty years." - -"More than twenty years! I think you must be mistaken. How old are you?" - -"Nine next July." - -"Then your mother could not have died twenty years ago." - -"Yes. She died long before I was born." - -Miss Clement slowly shook her head. "But not twenty years. That is -impossible." - -"But she did." - -"Then she was your step-mother perhaps?" - -"No. My own mother." - -This conversation was becoming so very absurd that Miss Clement made -no answer. She merely looked away--and studied the room. - -The boy smiled as if amused at her ignorance. "Don't you understand how -it was?" - -The lady's only reply was to close her eyes wearily. But he stepped -nearer and laid a hand on each of her knees, to wake her up. - -"Don't you see," he said, "the difference between eight and twenty is -twelve, isn't it?" - -"It is." - -"Well, then she must have been dead twelve years when I was born." - -Now Miss Clement could never do arithmetic. She abominated figures, -and these words were uttered with so much conviction--reenforced by -the wisdom of his eyes--that her brain became tangled for a moment. -It seemed to shrink, in a sort of nervous bewilderment, from this -fantastic puzzle. He smiled at her obvious confusion, moved backward -a step or two, folded his hands behind him and squirmed with delight. -"It's funny you don't understand. I guess I am smarter than you are." - -Miss Clement shut tight her lips and looked away--anywhere. Her own -brain seemed laughing at her. - -"I s'pose," said the Vandal, "I don't need a mother much." - -"Every boy needs a mother. Is Joanna your sister?" - -He laughed at such an absurd mistake. "No! She's lots older than you -are. She's housekeeper--and lots of things." - -Miss Clement looked about the room, at the pictures on the walls. They -were mostly engravings and photographs. - -"Is there a portrait of your mother here?" - -"No, ma'am." - -"Not anywhere in the house?" - -"No." - -"There must be a photograph." - -"No." - -"Are you sure?" - -"Yes'm." - -"That is very strange." - -"Why?" - -"Because--because--it is most unusual. Did she die here in this house?" - -"Oh, no! Of course not!" - -"Why of course not?" - -"Because she died in Italy." - -"Was she Italian?" - -"I guess so." - -"Have you never seen a portrait of her?" - -"No, ma'am." - -Miss Clement frowned. There seemed to be a mystery here. Possibly a -scandal of some sort. And her interest quickened. "I suppose your -father talks to you about her sometimes." - -"No, ma'am." - -"Never?" - -"No, ma'am." - -"Of course he has told you where you were born?" - -"P'r'aps." - -"Perhaps what?" - -"P'r'aps he did." - -"But you don't remember?" - -"No, ma'am." - -Nobody likes to be thwarted in the pursuit of knowledge. In this case -it seemed to Miss Clement that the deeper she delved the less she found. - -"Don't you remember ever having seen a portrait of her?" - -"Of course not." - -"Why of course not?" - -"Because there isn't any." - -This seemed a good reason. But Miss Clement felt that either she--or -this boy--was being deceived. - -The Vandal, whose drowsy eyes had scarcely moved from the study of her -face since she entered the room, saw the look of disappointment. It was -a somewhat petulant expression in which she would not have indulged had -her host been twenty years older. But he saw it so clearly that he was -moved to sympathy. With all the joy and enthusiasm of a great idea, he -exclaimed: "My father may know all about her. I will ask him to tell -you!" - -A chill of horror swept up Miss Clement's spine. She suddenly realized -what awful mischief a youthful savage--either from ignorance or -perversity--might accomplish. She stood up. "No! Don't mention it to -him--nor to anybody." - -"Why not?' - -"Because you mustn't." - -She could see, in the Vandal's face as he looked up at her, that he -enjoyed this--to him--unaccountable fright. He even laughed. "There's -nothing to be afraid of." - -"No, of course not!" And she tried to smile. "But promise me you will -not ask your father, nor anybody else." - -To this super-sensitive lady there appeared in his uplifted eyes a -cruel, triumphant delight, as he said--"Why did you ask if you don't -want to know about her?" - -"Merely in the way of conversation." And she added, with her sweetest -smile--"merely from a friendly interest. You are a nice boy, and you -understand, I am sure." - -He nodded; but his eyes, in their slumbrous wisdom, seemed almost -contemptuous. - -"Promise me," she insisted. "Promise me you will say nothing about it -to anybody." - -"Yes, I promise." - -"You are a nice little boy--and I must go, now. I will call again in a -day or two. Good by." - -He bowed as he said good-by. Then he followed her out into the hall, -ran before her and held the door wide open. As she passed out he bowed -again; the same deferential obeisance with which he had first greeted -her--as from Louis XIV to the Queen of Spain. - - * * * * * - -As Miss Clement crossed the common on her way home she saw a group of -children looking skywards, and she heard the word "Eagle." She stopped, -and also looked up. And as she looked, and watched the bird, floating -tranquilly in the upper air, in a wide, slow circle, majestically, with -no apparent effort, so high above the earth that he might be a visitor -from another planet--she recalled the words of her recent host: "What's -the use of crawling about on the earth like a bug? I'd rather be a -bird." - - * * * * * - -An hour later Dr. Alton returned afoot. He had left his horse in the -village to be shod. As he walked up the driveway he noticed a figure -standing on the mounting block before the house. It was so enveloped in -the golden glories of a setting sun that Dr. Alton failed, at first, -to recognize his own son. The figure seemed a part of the sunset--more -an ethereal spirit than an earthly boy. Cyrus was standing erect and -motionless, his head thrown back as if inhaling inspiration from the -radiance about him. Such prolonged and voluntary immobility would -be unusual in any boy. Moreover, Cyrus maintained this attitude, -forgetting--or ignoring--the customary greeting to his father. After -waiting a moment before his strangely indifferent son, a feeling of -uneasiness began to mingle with Dr. Alton's surprise. - -At the foot of the block sat Zac, looking up at the silent boy. And -Zac, also, might be a little off in his mind for he, too, failed to -welcome or even to notice the returning parent. - -At last Dr. Alton spoke. "What's the matter, Cyrus? Dreaming you are a -bird?" - -Slowly Cyrus lowered his face, his eyes still shut. And slowly the eyes -were opened as if waking from a sleep. They showed a mild surprise -at his father's presence. But he answered, in a low voice, as if his -spirit still lingered elsewhere: - -"Somebody wants us." - -"Who?" - -"I don't know." - -"But you know who told you." - -"No, sir. Nobody told me." - -"What do you mean, Cyrus? Wake up. Is it an emergency call?" - -Cyrus raised a hand and pointed before him, toward the south. - -"It comes from off there." - -Dr. Alton frowned, less from irritation than from fear that this -foolish utterance of his son might be the forerunner of some future -spiritualistic obsession--or other mental derangement. - -But he spoke gently. "Whose house do you think it is?" - -"Oh, I don't know at all! It comes from way off--way off! It's in the -air; not a loud sound, like somebody near. More like a--like a--breath." - -"What does it say?" - -"It says--it says--oh, I dunno. It isn't words." - -"Then how do you know they want me?" - -"It wants us both. It wants me too." - -Dr. Alton smiled. "Do they want your help as another doctor?" - -But Cyrus did not return the smile. He obviously regarded the message -with a certain solemnity--and awe. Again he closed his eyes and again -turned up his face. - -"It is still coming." - -"What is still coming, Cyrus? The same message?" - -"Yes, sir, the same message--that we are wanted there." - -"Where?" - -"I don't know. But it isn't anywheres near here. It's a good ways off. -And we are wanted very much;--oh, very much!" - -Dr. Alton turned away. "Well, Cyrus, when you get your message in more -definite form I shall be glad to consider it." - -As he entered the house, however, he stood in the doorway a moment, -looking back. Cyrus was still standing on the mounting block, with face -upturned. On the ground sat Zac, still waiting patiently for his hero -to return to earth. - -When Cyrus followed his father into the house he found him warming -himself before the open fire. He approached and stood before him. - -"Father, why isn't there a picture of my mother somewhere round the -house?" - -Dr. Alton raised his eyebrows at the unexpected question. "Why do you -ask, Cyrus?" - -"'Cause somebody was here to-day who wanted to know." - -"Who?" - -With a knowing shake of the head the diplomat answered, "Oh, I mustn't -tell you. I promised not to." - -"Well, you must keep your promise." - -"But why isn't there one?" - -"It's a long story, Cyrus. Some day I will tell you, but not just now." - -"But why not now? This is when I want to know. I may forget about it." - -Dr. Alton was familiar with the gimlet quality of the youthful mind. -"Well--Cyrus--let us wait and see if you forget it. And if you----" -At that moment he happened to look more carefully at a letter in his -hand, delivered during his absence and which he had just taken from -the table. Cyrus waited for him to go on. He waited in vain. Dr. Alton -stepped hastily to the window for more light, and read the letter. It -was evidently of unusual interest, as he forgot to finish his sentence. -And when, at last, Cyrus asked him to continue he did not even hear his -son's voice. - -The letter was written in a woman's hand, and in French. - -At the supper table that evening father and son were sitting alone, as -usual. The son was talkative, but the father was silent; so silent that -Cyrus, at last discouraged by the complete indifference of a usually -sympathetic audience, became silent himself. - -And the father had abundant material for thought. He was trying to -understand how the message in the letter had reached the boy. By what -mysterious agency had this yearning of a woman's heart stirred the -brain of the far away Cyrus? Could there be a harmony between these two -spirits so intimate as to render the written word superfluous? These -were questions he tried in vain to answer. - -When the meal was finished and Joanna began to clear away the things, -Dr. Alton surprised her by asking if Cyrus had a good suit of clothes. - -"A good suit of clothes! Of course he has!" - -"I mean, a nice new suit, that is becoming to him." - -"He has that pretty dark suit with the wide collar that he wears -Sundays." - -"Yes,--yes--I know--but would that be good enough to wear in New York." - -"In New York? Is Cyrus going to New York?" And there was a ring of -dismay in Joanna's voice. - -"I think so." - -"When?" - -"To-morrow." - -"What for?" - -Dr. Alton hesitated. "I have some--sort of business there and--will -take him with me." - -"Will he stay long?" - -"Only a day or two." - -"Heaven be praised! I began to be frightened." - -The doctor laughed. "You needn't worry, Joanna. We shall come back -alive--and very soon." - -The next day Cyrus and his father were in the wicked city. The -important business of the following morning was taking the boy to a -fashionable establishment and fitting him out in stylish raiment. -And when the deed was done Dr. Alton realized that Cyrus, in these -new, well fitting clothes, with his intelligent face and erect little -figure, was not a boy to be ashamed of. - -"To-night," said Dr. Alton, "we go to the opera." - -"Opera." And Cyrus repeated the new word. "Opera. What is that, father?" - -"It's a theater, where they sing." - -"Isn't the circus better?" - -"Well, yes; sometimes it is better. But you come to the opera with me -to-night and to-morrow I will take you to the Hippodrome. That's fair, -isn't it?" - -Cyrus agreed that it was. - -To a boy of eight, who has never been to any theater, Grand Opera is a -strong beginning. When he and his father took their seats--seats not -too far from the stage--Cyrus, in wonder, looked about him and above -him, at the vast auditorium, the gorgeous architecture, the radiant -women and their flashing jewels. And so many of them! This was a new -world of which he had never heard. Wide open were his eyes; also his -mouth--and all his senses. He absorbed everything. The overture filled -him to the brim with a celestial joy. Such music he had not imagined. -Then, to his surprise, all the lights were lowered and the vast chamber -was in gloom. And when, the next moment, the great curtain began -slowly to ascend, disclosing the scene behind, then, indeed, came the -culmination of his joy and amazement. - -What followed was bewildering--the music and the changing lights; the -peasants, the soldiers and the kings and queens. And everybody singing! -Then the ballet, with the fairies! The boy was enchanted. - -But, among the many figures, there was one that stood out the clearest. -It was a woman. Her face, her voice, her singing and her story moved -him beyond any of the others. The words that were sung were strange -words and they told him nothing, but he guessed the story. This -lovely woman with a lovely voice had a diadem in her hair and was in -trouble--troubled by a hateful man in splendid clothes, with lavender -legs. But, however deep her trouble, she sang so well and in such -a heavenly voice that the whole audience applauded her, again and -again. It was clear, even to a child, that she was the queen of the -evening, the star of stars. And once, between two acts, when she came -out upon the stage, between the good lover and the wicked nobleman, -bowing to the audience in acknowledgment of flowers, Cyrus saw, and -saw so clearly there was no mistake, that she looked directly at him, -Cyrus, and at his father! And as she saw them, she bowed and smiled -more radiantly than ever! And so clear it was that he looked up and -whispered: - -"Why, father, she was bowing to us!" - -He saw his father was smiling back at her as he murmured, "Yes--she is." - -That, in itself, was exhilarating. - -But no human boy can withstand for an infinity of time an infinity of -new emotions--however delectable. At the end of the second hour Cyrus' -head was resting against his father's arm, and his eyes were closed. -But in his sleep he heard the music. In his dreams came the voice of -the Lovely Lady. His eyes, only, were closed. In his ears, and to his -weary but enchanted brain came all except the actual vision. When his -father woke him from this gentle sleep the great curtain was slowly -descending at the end of the final act. Music filled the air,--volumes -and volumes of it. Countless people were on the stage; kings and -queens, lords and ladies, peasants and soldiers, all singing their -loudest. So many noisy people Cyrus had never heard. And in the center -among the kings and queens was the Lovely Lady, also singing. - -A few moments later, after the great curtain had descended, a half -dozen of the principal singers came filing out in front of it, holding -hands, and bowing and smiling to the audience. The Lovely Lady received -heaps of flowers. And her eyes, as she bowed and smiled, rested for a -moment on Cyrus himself. - -The next day, as to weather, was disappointing. The cold, damp air, -the leaden sky and the flurries of snow were a surprise to Cyrus, -as it was just plain, country weather, and bad at that. It seemed -out of place in a fine, big city. And he was again surprised, in the -afternoon, when his father took him into Central Park. He considered -it a waste of time, when so much of the city had not been seen. They -walked along the borders of a lake, through some woods, then followed -a path up a little hill. And, two or three times, when they came to -other paths, his father took from his pocket the French letter he had -received at home, and seemed to study it as if it told him where to go. -On one of these halts the boy protested. - -"Why do we come here, father? We can see trees at home." - -"Yes, you are right, Cyrus. But we go only a little further." And when -they came to a rustic bench in a secluded spot, quite hidden among -trees and shrubs, Dr. Alton seated himself. - -"Are you tired?" Cyrus asked. Dr. Alton looked at his watch. "No, I am -not tired." - -"Then let's go back to the city, and be seeing things." - -His father laid a hand on his shoulder and patted it. - -"There is no hurry. We can wait a minute. It is rather pleasant here, -don't you think?" Then he looked along the path in both directions as -if expecting something. Cyrus was too polite to say what he really -thought, so he merely scowled and swung his legs, hitting the toe -of one foot against the heel of the other. Meanwhile his father -kept looking along the path by which they had come as if expecting -something. - -And something came. - -It was a lady, and she was hurrying toward them. Instead of going by -she stopped and greeted Dr. Alton. And the greeting was more than -friendly. There were kisses, and they stood for a moment in each -other's arms. Tears were on her cheeks when she stooped down and put -both hands on Cyrus' shoulders and looked earnestly into his face. -In her own face there was a look of excitement, and of joy. More -tears came to her eyes. And her eyes were full of expression, with a -peculiar droop, that gave an air of calmness and repose. She kissed -the boy,--kissed him several times--then held him at arm's length, -said something in a foreign language--then kissed him again. Although -she was evidently an important person, and beautiful and kind and -very gentle and affectionate--and he liked her furs as he stroked -them--nevertheless Cyrus accepted her attentions with surprise, and -with a mild resentment. No woman had ever treated him in this manner, -and these caresses embarrassed him. Moreover, her face and voice -awakened memories--memories as of fairy tales with music--of things -unreal, yet positive, and fresh in his mind. His frown was from an -effort to remember what her face and voice recalled. At last, of a -sudden, the clouds vanished. Into his puzzled brain poured a flood -of light. The frown gave way to a smile of triumph as he exclaimed, -holding her at arm's length with both hands against her chest: - -"Oh, I know now! You are the lady of last night!" - -She looked up at Dr. Alton for a translation but guessed the meaning. -And when it came she nodded, laughed and confessed--but in a language -Cyrus did not understand, although familiar to his ears. Seating -herself on the rustic bench, she held Cyrus in her lap, and with Dr. -Alton as interpreter they conversed together. She asked many questions: -if he was happy, in good health, what he thought and how he spent his -time, and lots of other things. And Cyrus was delighted to learn more -about her strange adventures of last night. And to know that the wicked -man with lavender legs could do her no harm. - -She was certainly a wonderful lady, as charming now as in the story -of last night. And Cyrus asked many questions about that story, all -of which she answered. Of course, it was slow and troublesome not -understanding her language--nor she his, except a few words--but Dr. -Alton was a willing translator. It all ended, however, in an unexpected -way. After one of her embraces, more affectionate even than the others, -Cyrus startled his two companions by asking in the joyful voice that -comes with a grand discovery:-- - -"Are you my mother?" - -With a frightened look she drew back. The last word she understood. -Instead of answering she glanced up at his father, as if for -assistance. Into Dr. Alton's face, also, had come a look of alarm; -then a frown. But he answered pleasantly: - -"No--Cyrus. No. Why should you ask such a question?" - -"Because she acts just as Elmer Snow's mother acted when he came back -from the hospital." - -When this was translated she leaned back, bowed her head, and covered -her face with her hands. When she raised her head there were fresh -tears on her cheeks. - -Cyrus apologized. "I am very sorry. I didn't mean anything--in -particular. I only--just thought I'd ask." - -She patted his shoulder to assure him no harm was done. - -"This lady, Cyrus, is an old friend of mine," said his father. "And is -very glad to see you and is sorry you have no mother. That's all." - -Now Cyrus would sooner doubt a voice from heaven than his father's -word; and any one could easily see that the lady was much disturbed--so -much disturbed that it shortened the interview. The parting with his -father seemed painful and took a long time. Both had much to say. They -seemed to cling to each other, and he kissed her several times. At -last, after a tearful farewell to Cyrus, with a long embrace in which -her wet cheeks were pressed long against his face, she hurried away. - -There was sorrow in his drowsy eyes as he watched the departing figure. -No woman had ever treated him in such a way, and he had begun to like -it. Before she disappeared around a curve in the path, even before -the sound of her pleasant voice had died away in his ears--something -happened! - -A fat, gray squirrel, followed by another fat, gray squirrel jumped -upon the bench just where the lady had been sitting! And there they sat -almost within reach! - -He was young. Within a month the unexplained lady, her face, her voice -and her caresses had begun to fade from his unfledged memory. But the -two gray squirrels, almost within reach, sitting up with their funny -little hands crossed upon their portly stomachs, he remembered clearly. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -VI - -HE ALMOST GETS RELIGION - - -Cyrus was in bed. - -The history of the case is instructive and should be a warning to other -champions. - -On a certain afternoon in the fourteenth year of this hero's life the -home team had met and defeated the baseball club from a neighboring -village. The score was twenty to thirteen. Such a victory deserved -celebration. So Cyrus, with half a dozen fellow champions, went to -Mrs. Turner's little ice cream parlor and regaled themselves. Each boy -had three ice creams, and as the money still held out they decided on -a fourth. But Mrs. Turner, having a friendly interest in her patrons, -declined to be further identified with this particular debauch. - -To victors in the national game this was humiliating. Defeat in an ice -cream parlor after triumph on the diamond, was not to be accepted. -So they adjourned to the store where a fresh lot of cocoanut cakes -had just come in. These cakes were not dry and fly blown like their -predecessors. They were fresh, full and well rounded, soft and juicy -and nicely browned on top. Wilbur Cobb said he could eat a dozen. But -Cyrus, familiar with the deceptive richness of cocoanut cakes, said no -boy could eat a dozen, but that he, Cyrus, could eat more than Wilbur. -This aroused the sporting instinct of the party and it was arranged, on -the spot, that these two champions should compete. The boy who ate the -most should pay nothing toward the cost of the cakes. The cakes were -two cents a piece. - -Cyrus won. He ate nine and claimed, with justice, that were it not for -the space already occupied by the ice cream and sponge cake he could -have eaten still more. - -Half an hour later these same boys, in passing through Deacon Bisbee's -orchard, found the taste of green apples cool and refreshing, for the -moment, after the somewhat milky fullness caused by the ice cream -and cocoanut cakes. And they partook with reckless freedom. What -exclamations of surprise or warning may have passed between those -hereditary foes, the ice cream and green apples, when the apples -entered those overworked stomachs is not recorded. But the apples -conquered as easily as the Barbarians when they entered Rome. For -green apples, on occasion, resemble Truth: they are mighty and will -prevail. And Cyrus, after starting homeward, began to feel, in that -region between his chest and legs, as if he had swallowed a football. -The distention was painful. Moreover, as he hurried on, the football -seemed growing bigger and harder. Also, it showed signs of life. From -his interior came rumblings; the rumblings that precede a storm. All -through this central zone, this sphere of distention, pains were -starting up, sharp, swift, far reaching. It appeared to him that -through his equator lightning played. At first these playful spasms -darted here and there in a frolicsome way--like airy nothings. Though -somewhat threatening and reverberant they did not alarm him. They -seemed well intentioned pains, like harmless gleams of lightning on a -summer night. But these spasms became less friendly. They grew sharper -and more threatening. Soon, like flashes in a real storm, they were -shooting here and there as if rending him asunder; no longer playful, -but the kind of lightning that rips the bark from trees, tears bricks -from chimneys, and spires from churches. When near his own home this -storm within grew fiercer yet, and wilder in its fury. So sharp the -agony that he clasped the afflicted territory with both his hands, and -leaned for support against a fence. - -Never before, in his brief career had he realized that the human body -could be rent and plowed and torn to shreds without killing the owner. - -At that moment Mrs. Eagan came along. Mrs. Eagan had a large face, -a large chest, large hips and a large heart. And she was carrying a -large basket--of things for the wash. Cyrus withdrew his hands from -that region where the tempest raged, straightened up, lifted his hat -and bowed. And it was done as respectfully as if Mrs. Eagan were -the leading lady of the land. Mrs. Eagan, with a smile of pleasure, -returned the salutation, not gracefully perhaps, for she was hampered -by the heavy basket. She knew Cyrus, and she knew that in his courtesy -to her sex he made no distinctions. She knew that if the Queen of Sheba -were passing at the same moment, the Queen of Sheba would have received -an obeisance not a bit more deferential than the obeisance to Mrs. -Eagan. But as she looked more carefully at the boy's face, her friendly -eyes saw clearly there was trouble. - -"Why, Cyrus! Are ye sick? Ye are as white as a sheet." - -"Yes'm." He spoke in a fade-a-way voice, and he smiled from sheer force -of will. "I feel very--very--I don't know." And one of his hands moved -instinctively to the sphere of revolt. His head drooped, partly from -pain; partly from shame that these awful spasms had weakened his legs -and might effect his courage. - -"'Tis there ye are sufferin'? 'Tis the belly ache?" - -Cyrus nodded. "Yes--Mrs. Eagan--and I never--had--such a----" The lips -quivered, his head sank lower and he leaned against the fence for -support. Mrs. Eagan laid down her basket. Then closer to the smaller -white face came the larger red one. - -"D'ye feel so bad as that, little man?" - -Cyrus nodded, with lips tight pressed to conceal a quivering he could -not control. He looked into the light blue eyes, now near his own, and -tried to smile. - -Mrs. Eagan said no more. Cyrus felt an arm behind his legs, another -across his back, and he was lifted from the earth. She lifted him in -her arms--as Hercules might have lifted a spring lamb. With his head -against her shoulder she carried him easily up the long driveway to his -own home. - -There were sleepless hours that night, and Cyrus did some unusual -thinking on important subjects. For, as it happened, he had recently -read portions of the Old Testament, quite by accident, and was much -impressed, temporarily, by certain statements of the Hebrew fathers. He -inferred from that book that the Ruler of the Universe was watchful and -vindictive, and dependent upon constant praise; that for any dodging of -this praise and worship hell fire and eternal damnation were ordinary -penalties; that the sins of the fathers were visited upon the children, -forever and ever--which seemed unfair. The impression of all this upon -his youthful mind was that any person who really believed these things -must be either impossibly good or scared to death. While in good health -those awful utterances did not worry him. Now, however, in the silent -hours of the night, weakened by the devastation in his interior, he -became less callous to such warnings. Those Hebrew fathers, backed by -the vindictive Almighty, might get him before daylight and consign him, -forever, to the fires of hell. - -But at last he slept. And when he awoke the sun was shining in his -chamber--and he was still alive! However, when Joanna came up with his -toast and tea, and sat at his bedside, he was still haunted by the -awful prophecies of the Hebrew fathers and by the suspicion that the -Avenging Deity might still have an eye on him. - -Joanna was a well-built woman of forty, with good features and an -honest face. For nearly twenty years she had lived in the Alton family -as housekeeper, nurse, companion, cook, friend and servant: and, -incidentally, as mother to Cyrus. While Joanna's education had been -scanty, her common sense was abundant. Her attendance at church was -regular, and Cyrus felt, naturally, that her views on Paradise and -Purgatory could be relied on. So he asked if religious people were more -likely to get to heaven than other folks. - -"Of course," said Joanna. - -"Which kind are the surest?" - -"The Good People." - -"I mean, which kind of religion is the--is the safest?" - -"Each one thinks his own is." - -"Which do you think, Joanna?" - -"Congregationalist." - -"Is that yours?" - -"Yes." - -"Do they have a better chance than Baptists or Methodists or -Unitarians?" - -"I guess they do." - -"But the Unitarians have the biggest church." - -"Yes--in this village." - -"What do they believe,--the Unitarians?" - -Joanna closed her eyes. "Oh, I can't tell you exactly. They believe -something about God being the only thing to worship--the most important -of all." - -"Well,--isn't He?" - -"Why--er--yes." - -"What's bigger?" - -Joanna frowned. "Bigger than what?" - -"Bigger than God?" - -"Why, nothing, I suppose." - -"Then it seems to me He is the One to be friends with." And Cyrus -leaned back on the pillow, and turned his face toward the light. Joanna -stroked his head. - -"But don't you worry, little boy. You are not goin' to die just because -you are sick." - -"Are you sure?" - -"Of course I am sure, so is your father sure. To-morrow you will be all -well again." - -"Yes, but I shall die some day and I might as well be ready. You think -the Congregashalists have the best chance of getting to heaven." - -"Yes." - -"Then I'll be one. What do I have to do?" - -"Nothing, but just go to church." - -"Is God a Congregashalist?" - -Joanna hesitated. "Well--nobody really knows." - -"Not even a minister?" - -"Perhaps he would. But you have asked enough questions. Now try and go -to sleep." - -Cyrus obeyed, and slept. But that evening when his father came up and -was sitting by the bed he made further efforts to get light on the -darkest of all subjects. Dr. Alton, however, saw signs of a feverish -excitement in the usually calm eyes of the invalid, and he decided -upon a soothing course of religious instruction. He knew that this -sudden thirst for knowledge in a fresh field could not be allayed by -any off-hand advice to forget and slumber. So with a smiling face -he answered questions as if the matter in hand was of no immediate -importance. - -"Father, was Jesus so very good?" Cyrus began. - -"Yes, indeed! The best of men!" - -"He wasn't better than you, I bet." - -"Indeed he was, Cyrus; very, very much better." - -"Ho!" said the boy; "I don't believe it." - -Dr. Alton explained, in few words, certain important differences -between Our Savior and other men. Cyrus listened, and understood; then -inquired: - -"Was He a Congregashalist?" - -Dr. Alton smiled, and shook his head. "Never, Cyrus! Never! He couldn't -have been if he tried. And He was not the man to try. There was no -cruelty in him. He was all forgiveness." - -"Then he must have been a Unitarian, a Piscopalian, or Baptist or -Methodist--or something like that." - -Dr. Alton closed his eyes and stroked his chin. - -"No--I should say not. He might possibly have been a Universalist, or a -Unitarian. But why are you so interested in religion all of a sudden? -Afraid you are going to die?" - -"No, not now. But all lost night I was afraid." - -His father took one of the small hands in both his own and smiled into -the invalid's adoring face. "There's no hurry about choosing your -creed, little man. Benevolent Creators are not punishing children for -theological errors. But we can talk it all over later, when you are -well." - -Cyrus also smiled--"But tell me, father, just for fun, what religion is -the best?" - -"Well, Cyrus, that's hard to say. There are many to choose from." - -"Why, I thought the Christian religion was the only real one." - -"Well, that's what the Christians think--naturally." - -Cyrus frowned. "But what's the use of so many?" - -"No use whatever. One good one would be enough for everybody--and save -heaps of trouble." - -"But the Christian religion is the best, isn't it--to go to heaven -with?" - -"That's hard to say. Nobody really knows. It's a good Sunday religion, -but it doesn't seem to work so well week days." - -"I guess it's safer than any of the others, isn't it?" - -"Possibly. But you needn't decide in a hurry, Cyrus. Take your time and -look around a little." - -"Do people always look around before choosing their religion?" - -Dr. Alton laughed. "No, they do not. In fact, it is considered a sign -of moral depravity to think too much for yourself in those matters. To -be at peace with mankind you must follow your neighbors. It is all -merely a matter of geography. When you know the name of the country you -know their religious beliefs. There is not much thinking done." - -"That's funny," said Cyrus. "But a Christian is lots better than any of -the others--isn't he?" - -Again Dr. Alton smiled. "Well, he himself thinks he is. But all virtue -is not centered in the Christian. When you get up to-morrow and wish to -get well and strong you will begin to eat again, won't you?" - -"Gracious! I guess I will! I could eat a house." - -"Yes, you will be hungry enough. And you will feel like eating quite a -variety of things, I suppose." - -"Oh, won't I!" And as Cyrus spoke the pallor of the Saint was submerged -in a glow of fleshly desire. - -"Good! And you shall have it! Now we will play, for a minute, that -Christianity is pie." - -"Is what?" - -"Is pie. Just pie. But there are various creeds of pie among the -Christians; there's apple, pumpkin, mince, squash, cocoanut, and all -the others." - -"Me for cocoanut!" exclaimed the invalid. "Cocoanut pie beats 'em all!" - -"That's a matter of taste. But you prefer cocoanut pie to all the -others?" - -"Oh, yes!" - -"Very well. Now there's apple for Methodist, mince for Episcopalian, -cocoanut for Unitarian, pumpkin for Congregationalist, and so on, -through the list." - -Cyrus laughed. "And which are you?" - -"I haven't decided yet. But you must stick to your colors and have more -faith in cocoanut than in all the others." - -"Oh, yes! That's easy!" - -"And so you eat nothing but cocoanut pie." - -"Nothing else at all?" - -"Nothing else. So long as you are a Christian you must stick to your -creed. You must feel considerably wiser and better than outsiders who -are eating grapes, and roast turkey and custards and watermelons, and -pudding and ice cream, and all who eat anything except your one kind of -pie." - -"Oh, I couldn't do that!" - -"But you must, if you want to be a true defender of your cocoanut -creed. For all the others are outsiders. Those pudding, turkey, grapes, -custard and ice cream people don't believe in your pie." - -Cyrus slowly shook his head and pushed out his lips. "I couldn't -despise people for eating things they liked." - -"Neither could I, Cyrus. So, for the present, anyway, we will eat -whatever we want to. And we are just as sure of going to Heaven as if -we stuck to one kind of pie." - -"Yes, we will," declared the invalid, and in his face and voice had -come the enthusiasm of fresh hopes and a new life. "If our minister," -he said, "would talk like that in the pulpit, about roast turkey and -ice cream and things to eat, it would be more--more interesting. -Wouldn't it?" - -Dr. Alton bent over Cyrus and kissed him good night. "Yes, but he -wouldn't dare--unless his congregation consisted of empty boys." - -The father's diagnosis was correct: his treatment a success. During -that short half hour the patient had been converted from a terrified -sinner to a hopeful gourmand. The anxious look had left his eyes. The -lips were smiling. - -And that night, instead of fitful wakings interspersed with dreams of -hell and Hebrew prophets, of death, damnation and eternal punishment, -he slept a solid, tranquil sleep. And such dreams as came were happy -dreams. He dreamed of puddings of the richest kind, of turkeys all -stuffed and ready; of various pies, of custard, of pastry, and of ice -cream, all of which he ate, and ate--and ate. And lying flat upon his -stomach on a sponge-cake raft he floated in a sea of pineapple sherbet. -He would bite off edges of the raft, then, with his whole face in the -boundless ocean, he would suck up long gulps of this divine material. -And his permanent residence was in a cocoanut palace against a mountain -of vanilla ice cream. - -When morning came, and he awoke and sat up in bed, he was himself -again. In the sunshine of his room the bottomless pit had lost its -menace. His spirit, refreshed by slumber and now guided by his nose, -ignored the fires of Purgatory and was hovering over the more friendly -heat of Joanna's kitchen stove. - -A few days later, when he was curled up at one end of the sofa with a -book, he asked: "What is the transmigration of souls?" - -[Illustration: "A COCOANUT PALACE AGAINST A MOUNTAIN OF VANILLA ICE -CREAM"--_Page 114_] - -Dr. Alton explained. - -Then Cyrus, after a good look into the face of the dog beside him: -"Whose soul do you suppose is in Zac?" - -"That's a hard one, Cyrus. I could only guess at it." - -"But it means for dogs, too, doesn't it?" - -"It certainly ought. I shouldn't accept it unless it did." - -"Then I say that whatever soul came into Zac was the soul of a mighty -good man." - -"Yes--no doubt about that." - -"Just think! Zac may be George Washington!" - -"Well--you can't be too sure. You have all the good people in history -to choose from, you know." - -"Yes, of course. I guess, after all, he isn't George Washington. He is -quicker and jumps about more." Then after another look into the dog's -adoring face: "Besides, I don't believe any great man in history would -be so awful fond of me as Zac is." - -"Oh, he might be. Washington would have liked you, I think; although he -might not have followed you about so closely." - -Other famous men were mentioned: the Emperor Augustus, Magellan, -Shakespeare, Daniel Boone and Fenimore Cooper--also Joan of Arc. But it -was agreed by both father and son that the best known characteristics -of those persons were not sufficiently obvious in Zac to make a clear -case. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -VII - -TOWARD THE LIGHT - - -The snow lay deep--and still it fell. - -On a low stone wall by the roadside Ruth Heywood sat in solemn -meditation. With melancholy eyes she watched the door of the little red -school house a hundred yards away. On the porch of that school house -shivered Zac, also waiting. He, too, kept his eyes on the door, but he -had no intention of rebuking the prisoner--should he ever appear. Why -try to improve an already perfect thing? - -Above Ruth's head the North Wind, moaning through the leafless branches -of the maples, played dirge-like airs. Now, late in the afternoon, the -darkening sky seemed bearing down upon the snow-covered earth. And -Ruth's thoughts were all in harmony with the world about her. There was -reason for a joyless face. More experienced women than Ruth had found -sorrow and defeat in acting as guardian angel to erring males. - -Other children had gone home. Cyrus was being held in punishment. And -the punishment was just. The Guardian Angel disliked this business, but -Cyrus had no mother, aunt or sister, and his father, being only a man, -did not realize the situation. Therefore, it seemed clear to Ruth that -she was the chosen instrument by which Cyrus was to be rescued from a -career of shame and failure. - -At last the boy appeared. Zac bounced with joy, stirring the snowy air -with cries of welcome. And Cyrus, glad as any other prisoner to be -again at liberty, came running after. - -Ruth walked out into the road and stood before him. As he stopped there -was a smile on his face, the old familiar smile of the guilty, who -hope to soften the face of Justice. But Justice was not beguiled. On -the face of the Guardian Angel came no returning smile. Instead, with -accusing eyes, she slowly shook her head. - -"Cyrus, you ought to be ashamed." - -"Why?" - -"You know very well why. You are bad, very bad, and teacher was right -to keep you after school and punish you." - -Cyrus gave up smiling. He reached forth and toyed with one of the horn -buttons on the Guardian Angel's coat. "I don't think I am bad just -because I hate that geography." - -"It's your duty to learn it whether you hate it or not. You will grow -up an ignorant, good-for-nothing man unless you study your lessons. -Everybody knows that. You ought to go straight home and tell your -father you have been kept after school. Just tell him all about it. -Will you?" - -There was a puckering of the boy's mouth, but no answer. - -"If you were stupid, and couldn't learn if you tried, it would be -different, but you are just perverse and--and bad. If you don't do -better I shall just go and tell your father myself." - -"Oh, Ruthy! You wouldn't do that!" And he let go the button and took a -backward step, as one who shrinks from a faithless friend. - -"But it's for your own good, Drowsy. And, besides, teacher will tell -him if I don't." - -"I s'pose she would." - -"You don't want to grow up and know less than anybody else--even less -than school children?" - -Cyrus smiled. "That _would_ be funny!" - -"No, it would _not_ be funny. Do you think it would be funny to dig -ditches all your life and drive oxen like old Sim Barker?" - -"But what makes him so bad is because he's foolish and dirty and has -tobacco juice in the corners of his mouth. Geography wouldn't help -_him_--nor anybody else. Geography!" And Cyrus uttered the word with -a fathomless contempt. "That geography just makes me sick--just sick, -sick, sick--and mad! What stuff it tells you! Which is the largest -African Lake? Where are the Barbary States? What about the surface -of Abyssinia? What are the products of the Cape of Good Hope? Who in -thunder cares for the climate of Uruguay or the exports of Ecuador? -Who'd ever be such a fool as to want to remember the population of -Thibet? And who cares anyway? Any jackass can know those things -whenever he wants to by looking at a map or that fool geography." - -"Oh, Cyrus, you mustn't talk like that!" - -But the revolutionist went on. "Why don't they tell us things worth -remembering? Look at my lesson to-day! The Island of Madagascar! Who in -thunder wants to know about the products of Madagascar? Hoh! It makes -me sick!" - -"But, Drowsy, Madagascar is an important island and----" - -"Important grandmother! Any fool can read about it. Why don't they tell -me things I want to know?" - -"What thing _do_ you want to know?" - -"I want to know things that other people don't know. I want to know -how the earth looks when you are standing on the moon. I want to know -what's lying in the mud at the bottom of the Tiber--all the bronze -and gold and marble things; and what sort of people live on the other -planets, and why cats and dogs can see in the dark. And if God is good -and not mean--why did he make Bobby Carter a hunchback?" - -"Oh, Cyrus! It's wicked to talk like that!" - -"No, it isn't. I'm only asking about it. I'm only asking why teacher -doesn't tell us things worth knowing. I want to know what would happen -if you dug a well through the center of the earth. Would a stone keep -on dropping till it came out the other side?" - -"That is gravity," said Ruth in her wisest manner, glad of a chance to -hold her position as mentor. - -"Yes, but the name doesn't help any. If I got into a big cannon ball -and was shot up into the air how many hundreds of miles would I go -before I would fall back? And if you should go up in a balloon a mile -high I want to know if you would stay still and see the earth going -round and round beneath you or would you have to go with it--and -Massachusetts always just underneath." - -"There's no use in knowing that." - -"Yes, there is. When I'm grown up I may do something like it." - -Ruth laughed. "You silly boy! Nobody ever did such a thing." - -"But _I_ may. Lots of things have been done that were never done -before. And mighty surprisin' things, too!" - -[Illustration: "I WANT TO KNOW HOW THE EARTH LOOKS WHEN YOU ARE -STANDING ON THE MOON"--_Page 119_] - -There was no denying this. So Ruth, for want of words, merely gazed -upon him in sorrow and disapproval, as any Conservative might gaze -upon any Radical. Before she could frame a speech to fit the look the -orator again rushed on. He spoke rapidly and with feeling. The drowsy -eyes became wider open. His hands with the gray mittens moved freely in -the snowy air. To Ruth it was a sudden transformation of a prospective -ignoramus into an inspired orator. In a higher, thinner voice he -demanded: "What makes one kind of electricity do what another kind -can't? And if men are so smart, why didn't they use electricity -thousands of years ago instead of just now? The air has always been -full of it." - -This was an interesting question. But the Guardian Angel had no answer -ready. - -"And what makes light travel so fast? Why, just think of it, a hundred -and fifty thousand miles in one second! And heat. There's lots to -learn about heat. Why do folks burn wood and coal in winter instead -of storing up heat in summer when there's too much of it. They keep -ice all summer. And why not keep heat all winter? And just look at -sunshine! Why not keep some overnight to read by? I could do it if I -was a man." - -The orator paused to get his breath. - -"But, Cyrus, perhaps you can learn all those things later." - -"But I want to know 'em now. Not the things I've just been reciting, -the climate of Texas, the crops of New South Wales and the population -of Wurtemburg. Hoh! I could be a teacher myself and tell things -everybody knows already. Teachers are no smarter than anybody else. I -asked her why some families, like the Herricks, have all boys and other -families all girls." - -"What did she say?" - -"She just couldn't tell me. And she didn't like it when I asked her why -God, who knows everything, should do foolish things." - -"Oh, Cyrus!" - -"Well, he makes warm days in April to start things going, then sends a -sudden frost and nips the blossoms and kills the crops. Any fool farmer -knows better than that." - -Ruth frowned. "You should not say such things." But the orator ignored -the rebuke. "Instead of telling me about the wrecks and ruins and the -treasures and the forests at the bottom of the ocean, teacher tells me -how many bales of cotton and barrels of molasses come from Alabama. -Why, Ruthy, at the Island of St. Helena the ocean is nearly six miles -deep!" - -"But, Cyrus, nobody really knows just what lies at the bottom of the -ocean." - -"Hoh! That's just it. Teacher stuffs us with things everybody knows. -All the easy things. Any cow or any hen can know 'em. I want the other -things. If she's a teacher she ought to know about the bottom of the -sea. She ought to tell us about Atlantis. There's be some fun in that." - -"Atlantis?" - -"Yes. That was the big island out in the Atlantic Ocean that suddenly -disappeared. It sank to the bottom of the sea. Don't you remember?" - -Ruth was honest and slowly shook her head. Yet she knew that her -position as mentor, spiritual guide and good example became weaker -should the ignoramus she was rebuking display more learning than -herself. - -But Cyrus was too much absorbed in the bigness of his subject to think -of himself or other trifles. "Why, Ruthy, it was a whole kingdom, -this island--a continent. It was covered with beautiful temples, whole -cities and lots of people. And all of a sudden--nobody knows why--it -disappeared beneath the waves! And now, to-day, down at the bottom of -the ocean those cities and those marble temples are still standing!" - -[Illustration: "AND NOW, TODAY, DOWN AT THE BOTTOM OF THE OCEAN, THOSE -CITIES AND THOSE MARBLE TEMPLES ARE STILL STANDING"--_Page 123_] - -"Where was this island?" - -"Off to the west of Spain, and Africa. People think the Azores and the -Canary Islands are the tops of mountains of that sunken country." - -Ruth said nothing, but the enchanting eyes spoke plainly of surprise -and wonder. "When did that happen?" - -"Way back in ancient times; before Greece began." - -The enthusiasm of Cyrus produced its effect on Ruth, and the earnest -eyes of Ruth had their usual effect on Cyrus. He laid one of his hands, -in its gray worsted mitten, against the Guardian Angel's chest. "And, -Ruthy, just think of those white marble temples! Just think of the -streets and houses! Think of all the statues and the helmets, shields -and swords and spears all lying around down there at the bottom of the -ocean! Think of all the ornaments in gold and silver! And think, that -in those great white cities with all their treasure, coral and sea -plants grow instead of trees! And the only living things are fishes -swimming in and out among the statues and the monuments, the palaces, -the forums and the amphitheaters." - -The orator drew a long breath, then in a lower tone: "I'd give anything -to spend a day in that place." - -Little batches of snow had gathered on the heads and shoulders of -the two children. For a moment they stood in silence, Ruth gazing -thoughtfully at Cyrus, Cyrus gazing in anger and contempt toward the -school house. - -At this point there came a sudden change in the Guardian Angel's -manner. She realized the necessity for different tactics. Familiar -with Cyrus's astonishing cleverness in argument she suspected that he -was justifying his own guilt by this dazzling display of wisdom. Then -came a swift transformation in the irresistible eyes, from sympathy to -rebuke. - -"Stop," she said. - -Cyrus stopped--midway in a sentence. - -"Those reasons you can tell to teacher. They are no excuse for being a -lazy boy; I shall tell your father unless you do better." - -Then she turned and walked away, striking her cold hands together for -warmth. Cyrus followed, treading the narrow path in the snow made by -horse's feet. - -But shivering Zac, who had good excuse for shivering after his long -wait on the windy porch, ran joyfully ahead. He had borne with patience -this long delay. Cyrus picked up a handful of snow and molded it into -a ball. As they were passing the store he caught Ruth by a sleeve and -pointed to a boy more than a hundred feet away. The boy was stooping -over a sled. - -"What'll you bet I can't hit Luther from here?" - -Now Cyrus was a surprisingly good shot. He seemed able to hit whatever -he fired at, and from unbelievable distances. His surprising accuracy -in this direction had made him pitcher on the village nine. But Ruth, -remembering her role as Guardian Angel, merely turned about and started -on again in dignified silence. But from the corners of her eyes she -watched the unsuspecting Luther, for she knew the missile would reach -its mark. Her silent prophecy was correct. Through the snowy air the -missile flew. It landed, with force, on the victim's back, just below -his neck. He straightened up and looked about. Then with a shout of -defiance he scooped a handful of snow, quickly rolled it into a ball -and sent it toward the enemy. Here the unexpected happened. The snow -ball, thrown in a hurry, would have missed Cyrus by a yard or more -even had Fate allowed it to go its way. But Deacon Phineas Whitlock -intervened. This stern old puritan of ferocious aspect, of iron will -and despotic temper, the terror of children and of all other habitual -sinners, was just passing Cyrus in solemn dignity, toward the store. - -The snowy sphere forwarded by Luther landed full upon the deacon's -mouth. And, as the deacon's mouth happened to be partly open at the -time--from his habit of preaching to himself--he received within it a -portion of the missile as it smashed and spread about his face. Swiftly -he wiped his face with the back of a hand. His temper was a hot one. -Luther knew it, and he grabbed the rope to his sled and disappeared -down the hill behind the store, with a velocity no elderly deacon could -hope to attain. Spluttering and wiping snow from his mouth and nose he -turned threatening eyes on Cyrus. In a voice between a gasp and a shout -of rage he demanded: - -"Who is that boy? Who is he? What's his name?" - -Cyrus shook his head. "I don't know, sir." - -"Yes, you do! Who is he? What's his name?" - -"I don't know, sir. Honestly I don't." - -"Don't know, you young rascal! You have eyes. What's his name?" - -But Cyrus, with a protesting, most polite and sorrowful gesture with -both his hands, again proclaimed his ignorance. "I really don't know, -sir. The air is so full of snow I didn't see his face." - -Deacon Whitlock again spluttered. His speech was incoherent, but doubt -and anger were plainly indicated. However, he turned away--still -muttering. - -Then the Guardian Angel approached the liar. "Cyrus Alton! How can you -do such a thing?" - -"What thing?" - -"Deacon Whitlock knows perfectly well you knew who it was, and that -you told him a lie. And he will despise you for it. So would everybody -else. So do I despise you for it." - -His only answer to this was a look of mingled sorrow and remonstrance. -Then, instead of trying to defend himself, as the Guardian Angel -expected, he looked away. He also heaved a sigh,--a sigh of weariness -and discouragement, an unboylike, elderly sigh such as grown-ups use. - -The Guardian Angel continued. "And I should think you would be ashamed -to be such a coward." - -Cyrus stiffened at the word. "A coward!" - -"Yes, coward. People only lie when they are afraid. If you had been -brave you would have told the truth." - -"But, Ruthy, you don't understand. I did it to save Luther. If Deacon -Whitlock knew who it was he would tell Luther's father and Luther might -get a lickin'." - -Ruth shook her head. "Your duty was to tell the truth--or say nothing." - -"No, sirree! That isn't true. The Bible says do unto others as you'd -like to have other fellers do unto you. And I did just what I would -want Luther to do for me." - -This line of defense was confusing, and Ruth was familiar with his -skill in argument. She knew well enough the pitfalls he could dig for -the embarrassment of any adversary. So, regarding him with the sternest -look she could bring into a very gentle face, she said: - -"It is wrong to tell lies and you know it is. And you are bad--just -bad. Why don't you button up your coat in front? The snow is actually -blowing down your neck." - -And she drew the collar of his overcoat closer about his throat and -tried to fasten it. "Why, the button is gone! Joanna ought to see to -it. You really ought to have a mother, Drowsy. You aren't half taken -care of." - -This time Cyrus had nothing to say in his own defense. She laid a hand -against his cheek. "Your face is hot. I believe you are sick now!" - -Cyrus smiled, and nodded. "I shouldn't wonder if I was." - -"Why? How do you feel?" - -"Oh, sort of--sort of--funny." - -"How, funny?" - -"I don't know. Sort of cold and then hot and then cold--and kind of -trembly. That's why I didn't hit Luther on the head instead of down on -his back." - -"Now, Cyrus Alton, you go straight home and tell your father just how -you feel. Tell him all about it." Then, with increasing severity: "It's -a shame you haven't got a mother. I believe it is because you are bad -and that's the way God punishes you." - -Then she turned away and started on again, Cyrus close behind. In front -of her own home she stopped suddenly and wheeled about;--so suddenly -that Cyrus walked against her. He took a backward step, and as they -looked into each other's faces he said, quietly: - -"No, it doesn't." - -Ruth's eyes opened wide, in surprise. "Doesn't what?" - -"It doesn't mean what you asked." - -"But, Drowsy, I didn't ask anything!" - -"You thought it, though." - -"Thought what?" - -"That because I told lies now I would not be an honest man when I grew -up. But that isn't so. I shall be an honest man." - -"Yes, but I hadn't spoken a word. How could you tell what I was going -to say?" - -"Oh, I dunno. I can often do that." - -"Yes, you have done it before, but how do you do it? How do you know? -Just guess at it?" - -"No. It sort of comes--as if--well--just the usual way--only without -the words waiting to be spoken. I guess it's natural enough." - -"Natural enough! Why, it's most mysterious. Nobody else does it." - -"Oh, p'r'aps lots of people do it. We don't know everybody." - -"But if many people did it we should have heard about them. No, it's -very mysterious. Why, Drowsy, I had just opened my lips to say your -being such a liar now proves you will be a dishonest man and you said, -before I uttered a word, 'No, it doesn't.'" - -Cyrus smiled. "I guess it must be a sort of telegraphing without wires, -like that man Marconi has just discovered." - -For a moment they stood in silence, Ruth looking earnestly into the -boy's slumbrous, half smiling eyes, trying vainly to explain the -unexplainable. "It's all the harder to understand," she said, "because -you could only see the back of my head. And this horrid storm was -blowing between us." - -"Yes, it's funny, and I dunno much about it. But I believe I could get -it if I wasn't seeing you at all; I mean, if you were way off, out of -sight." - -"Really?" - -"Yes, sir! I believe I could. Let's try it some day. Will you?" - -"Yes, little Drowsy, when ever you say." - -Once more she laid a hand against his face. - -"Your cheeks are hot again. Now you go straight home and tell your -father just how you feel, and have Joanna sew on that button. Will you?" - -"Yep. All right." - -He started off. About a dozen yards away he stopped and looked back. -She was still standing where he left her, and was watching him. The -obvious lack of confidence in his promise--or her air of authority with -all this military discipline caused a momentary revolt. He picked up a -handful of snow, rolled it quickly in a ball and threw it. She saw it -coming, but merely bent her head and lifted an arm in protection. - -'Twas a good shot. But the snowball, being soft, merely broke against -her arm. Ruth lowered the arm and raised her head, slowly and calmly, -as a Guardian Angel who is invulnerable to earthly weapons. She pointed -toward his home. - -Cyrus raised his cap, moved it grandly through the air in a sweeping -curve, bowed very low, then turned and marched away. - -He walked with no suspicion of pursuit. But Ruth had obeyed a sudden -impulse. She started forward on a run, and when close behind him gave a -sudden push with both hands. He tumbled forward into a drift and rolled -over on his back. As he started to get up, she pounced on him with all -her weight. Then with both knees on his chest she rubbed his face with -snow. - -Had the assailant been another boy, Cyrus would have kicked and struck -and fought him off. But you do not kick and strike your aunts, your -mother or your best girl. So, he merely pushed and wriggled about, with -eyes and mouth tight shut. - -Zac seemed to enjoy the business as much as Ruth. He barked and plunged -about as if cheering for the victor. - -Well into Cyrus's face Ruth rubbed the snow. "Take that, you horrid -boy, and that, and that!" - -With a triumphant laugh she took her knees from his chest, jumped to -her feet and ran away. And as she ran she expected just what happened. -For Cyrus, also quickly on his feet, drew the backs of his mittens -across his eyes for clearer vision, then sent a snowball toward the -vanishing figure. It landed between her shoulders. But she ignored it, -and ran into her own house without even a backward glance. - -For a moment Cyrus stood and watched her, then started homeward. - -It was a friendly enough parting, but it might have been different had -they know how many years were to come and go before they met again. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -VIII - -A WORKER OF MIRACLES - - -Something of a liar was Cyrus, in emergencies, but he told the truth -when he said "lots of things have been done that never were done -before; and mighty surprisin' things, too!" - -History bears him out. The stories of Grimm and Andersen are -commonplace events besides the victories of Science. Interesting, -indeed, would be the views of Galileo on wireless telegraphy, or -Botticelli's opinion of the "movies," or even what language the British -commander might have used at Bunker Hill had the Yankees employed -aeroplanes. Since the impossible is now in daily use, the dream of the -visionary in every home, incredible things have ceased to astonish. -Fairy tales are coming true. - -So thought Dr. Alton, on the afternoon following that last interview -between Ruth and Cyrus, when he was suddenly converted from incredulity -to compulsory faith in an achievement which he had believed -impossible. As he drove up to his own house Cyrus leaned out of the -sitting room window and told him to go at once to Mrs. Heywood who had -fallen on the stairs and broken a leg. Dr. Alton asked no questions, -turned about and drove off. A few hundred yards along the road he met -Mr. Heywood, who, much agitated, and traveling fast, as if trying to -walk and run at the same time. The doctor stopped and the clergyman -climbed in. As they started off Mr. Heywood exclaimed, out of breath: -"How fortunate this is. I was afraid you might not be at home. Poor -Alice, I fear, has broken her leg." - -"Yes, so I heard. I am on my way there." - -"On your way to my house?" - -"Of course." - -Mr. Heywood turned in surprise. "You say you--you knew of the accident?" - -"Yes." - -"But, Doctor, you couldn't. It happened less than ten minutes ago." - -"Cyrus told me. Perhaps somebody telephoned him." - -"But I have no telephone." - -Dr. Alton smiled. "Possibly somebody is a faster runner than you." - -"But no one was there except Alice, Ruth and myself." - -"Ruth may have done it." - -"Ruth has not left her mother. She is there now. And nobody else knows -of it." - -For a moment Dr. Alton was silent. "Bad news travels fast, Mr. Heywood." - -"But not when there's nobody to carry it." - -"Yes, there's that miraculous new messenger boy, wireless telegraphy." - -Mr. Heywood was in no mood for argument and said no more as Dr. Alton -obviously had little faith in any mysterious messenger. So, for the -moment, the subject was dropped. - -When the bone was set--and it proved a simple fracture--Mr. Heywood -followed Dr. Alton to the door. "I wish, Doctor, you would ask Cyrus -how he got his information--just to gratify my curiosity." - -"Are you absolutely sure that Ruth did not tell him?" - -Mr. Heywood, for answer, stepped back into the hall and called to his -daughter, who at once came running down the stairs. - -"Ruth," he said, "do you know how Cyrus heard of your mother's accident -so soon after it happened?" - -"Yes, sir. I told him." - -"You!" exclaimed her father. "Why Ruth, you never left the house!" - -"And Cyrus," said Dr. Alton, "is at home, confined to the house with a -bad cold. At least that's where he ought to be." - -"Oh, sir, he is!" said Ruth. "He sent me a note asking me to talk to -him, on the porch, from our house at just five o'clock, and I did. -Mother fell on the stairs just as I began to talk so I told him about -it." - -"Do you mean," said her father, "that your voice carried from this -house to his, nearly a mile away?" - -"Oh, no, sir! Cyrus doesn't have to hear your voice, always. He has a -special way of knowing things." - -"A special way of knowing things?" - -Ruth nodded. - -"What do you mean, Ruth? What things?" - -"Things you don't say." - -"But you did say to him that your mother had an accident." - -"Yes, sir; but he didn't have to hear it. He gets it some other way." -She added, with a smile: "He doesn't get it through his ears." - -"Then how does he get it?" - -"I don't know. He says it is in the air. He says he thinks it's a kind -of wireless telegraph and must work the same way." - -"Most extraordinary!" murmured Mr. Heywood, and he looked at Dr. Alton -as if hoping for more light on a cloudy subject. Dr. Alton, however, -was gazing thoughtfully at the girl, whom he knew to be truthful. He -also knew the misleading possibility of a child's imagination. "Do you -really think, Ruth, that Cyrus learned of the accident in that way?" - -"I don't know, sir. I couldn't hear anything from _him_." - -"You mean if he answered back you couldn't get it?" - -"Yes, sir. Nobody but Cyrus could understand anything at all, so far -away." - -"He knew that you couldn't hear anything _he_ said?" - -"Yes, sir. He just wanted to find out if he could tell what a person -said so far away without hearing it." - -Mr. Heywood turned to Dr. Alton. "He evidently succeeded, and it seems -quite incredible." - -Dr. Alton did not reply, directly. He had closed his eyes, and his own -thoughts, whatever their nature, were so absorbing that Mr. Heywood's -voice had failed to reach him. His abstraction, however, was brief. -With a smile he shook hands with Ruth. "I thank you for your testimony, -little lady. You make a perfect witness." Then to her father: "I shall -interview Cyrus at once and we will try to reach a better understanding -of the mystery." - -He promised to call in the morning to see Mrs. Heywood, and then -departed. - -When he entered his own house, half an hour later, he found the worker -of miracles asleep on a sofa near the open fire. Curled up at his feet -lay Zac. But Zac was not asleep. When the doctor moved toward the fire -and stood before it, warming his hands, Zac followed him with his eyes. -These cautioning eyes were saying: "Don't make a noise or you'll wake -him." - -Dr. Alton understood. He made no noise. But as he looked down upon the -sleeper he saw signs of vivid dreams. The sleeper kicked, muttered and -moved his hands. One vigorous kick landed on Zac's forehead, but the -recipient merely closed his eyes, hoping for better luck another time. -One more kick, spasmodic and violent, just missing Zac's head by an -eighth of an inch, and the boy awoke. As he awoke he sat up and shouted: - -"She's out!" - -Seeing his father he swung his legs over the side of the sofa, blinked -and laughed aloud. Zac also laughed:--that is, he barked. He always -barked when Cyrus laughed, just to be in it. To do whatever Cyrus -did was, of course, beyond a dog's ambition, but laughter being a -manifestation of his owner's joy, he expressed himself with sincerity -and enthusiasm by tail and voice. Moreover, by always joining Cyrus -in his mirth the world might know that their tastes were similar. In -fact, to be identified with Cyrus in any way was glory enough for any -dog. Cyrus was really the Only Boy. There were, of course, other boys, -but they could not all be Cyruses. God was not running this world -on any such plan. There was always one specimen that overtopped the -others. Only one Helen of Troy, one Socrates, one Columbus, one George -Washington and one Cyrus. Zac was not familiar with these names but -they serve their humble purpose in fixing the status of the human being -that he loved and respected above all others. - -"That's the funniest thing that ever was," said Cyrus. "What do you -think I dreamed? I dreamed we were playing ball on the ice on Minnebuc -Lake; us fellers against the women, and we all had skates on. I was -pitchin'. Mrs. Snell was at the bat and Deacon Whitlock first base. -Mrs. Snell's kind of fat, you know, and fierce and dignified, but she -wore trousers like the rest of us. Oh, it was funny!" - -Here the miracle worker paused and wagged his head, indicating -suppressed mirth. "Well, I gave her a twister. Jimminy! Wouldn't I -like to give such balls in a real game! 'Twas an up and down curve and -a fade away all in one. It went like a cork screw. No feller would -ever try to hit it. But Mrs. Snell did! She just shut her eyes and let -go--and she hit it! I caught it and threw to first. It turned into a -snowball between me and Deacon Whitlock and hit him square in his wide -open mouth--for he's always talking to himself, you know." - -"Yes, I know." - -"Well, Mrs. Snell dropped her bat and went sliding down to first--on -her skates--and when she got there she couldn't stop. She just scooped -up Deacon Whitlock as if he'd been a little boy and carried him off -in her arms. He was screamin' and kickin' and wavin' his arms like a -mad baby. And Luther, who was out in right field, grabbed her by the -trousers and tried to hold her back. Oh, it was funny!" - -Again the worker of miracles was convulsed with mirth. - -Dr. Alton nodded, smiled and expressed a proper appreciation of the -unusual game. He looked down into the boy's laughing face, as he spoke, -and there came to him an impression, considered trivial at the moment, -but remembered later with a livelier interest. It seemed to him, for -a brief moment, that Cyrus's smiling eyes were gazing deep into his -own as if groping, in a friendly way, for unspoken thoughts. Dr. Alton -realized that this impression was probably due to his recent discovery -of the boy's extraordinary faculty--a usual look in Cyrus's eyes which, -earlier in the day, would have made no impression. But the look was -short, little more than a glance, and Cyrus lowered his eyes to his -swinging legs and pulled up a stocking which was slipping down. - -"This afternoon," he said, "I broke a pane of glass in the parlor." - -"How did that happen?" - -"Well," said Cyrus, still watching his swinging legs, "I was playing -barn-tick in the parlor with Zac. I would throw the ball against the -wall and catch it when it bounced back, and every two or three throws -I'd let Zac get it. Then once, I threw it kind of careless----" - -"Carelessly, you mean." - -"Yes, sir, kind of carelessly and it hit the window instead of the -wall." - -Dr. Alton slowly moved his head in acknowledgment of the explanation. -The other subject on which he desired light was so much more important -than any broken window pane that neither his face nor manner expressed -very serious disapproval. In fact, Cyrus had hardly finished his -confession before his father spoke. - -"How did you happen to know, this afternoon, that Mrs. Heywood had -broken her leg?" - -"Oh, that was a great idea! I've invented a new kind of wireless!" And -he went on to tell, but in different words, the same story that Ruth -had given. "And just think! if everybody can do it there won't be any -need of telegraph machines, or letters either. People can talk miles -apart--just talk, as Ruth and I did!" - -"Yes, of course, but how long ago did you find you could do this?" - -"Only to-day. This was the first time." - -"But Ruth says you often know what people think, or are going to say, -before they say it?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"How long have you been able to do this?" - -"Oh, p'r'aps three or four years." - -"Why did you never happen to tell me?" - -"I supposed you knew. I supposed everybody could do it." - -"No; it's a very unusual faculty--very unusual indeed." Then, with a -smile: "I suppose you have often known what _I_ was thinking?" - -Cyrus laughed. "Oh, yes; lots of times!" - -"When was the last time?" - -Cyrus hesitated. He looked down at Zac, as if for encouragement. Then, -with a glance from the corners of his eyes: "Just now." - -"Just now!" - -Cyrus bobbed his head and grinned. "Yes, just now." - -"Why--what was it?" - -Again Cyrus hesitated. His father smiled--the smile of reassurance. "Go -ahead and tell me about it." - -"Will you promise not to be angry or say anything bad?" - -"Yes, I promise." - -"Well, when I broke the window pane in the parlor to-day I was going to -wait and let Joanna tell you about it when I was out of the way. But -when you looked at me to-night after I had told about the dream I saw -that you were in such a hurry to find out about the message from Ruth, -that you wouldn't think so much of the window pane. So I told you." - -Dr. Alton smiled and kept his promise, refraining from criticism. -But he recalled the look in the boy's eyes, a few moments since--the -look as of gently exploring another's thoughts. The recollection at -this present moment brought a singular feeling almost of awe; as of -something beyond human limitations. Was he on the border land of the -supernatural? And yet, as he looked into the honest face of Cyrus, his -wonder did not lessen. He found, therein, no solution of the mystery. -He discovered nothing beyond the familiar face of his normal, sane -and healthy boy, absorbed in things that became his age. He knew that -Cyrus, like other boys, would rather eat than pray; that he preferred -stealing apples to hearing sermons and would rather be a pirate than -a bishop. This knowledge did not trouble the father. He had been a boy -himself. - -Then, sitting on the old sofa beside Zac and Cyrus, he asked -many questions. They were all answered. Cyrus had nothing to -conceal. With boyish frankness he told many things, some serious, -some amusing--little secrets of his own--when he had enjoyed his -extraordinary gift. His experiences in divining the thoughts of others -were given as matter of fact occurrences. He had believed, until now, -that this power was possessed by all the world. - -It was a cozy group on the old sofa before the open wood fire, Zac, -Cyrus and Dr. Alton, and they stayed an hour or more. Dr. Alton began -to realize that this faculty was not only mind reading but something -far beyond. That thoughts of others should come to this boy with -no effort of his own was almost incredible. Even more amazing was -the transmission through space not only of spoken words but of the -unuttered wishes of far away friends. Was his son the master of a vital -secret, a mysterious power now unknown to science but, in future years -perhaps, to be common knowledge? Was it within the realms of material -science? Or was it an individual form of spiritual sympathy, some -ethereal harmony attuned by superhuman guidance to a chosen few? - -When Cyrus had gone upstairs to bed Dr. Alton sat long before the open -fine, remembering. And there was much to remember. At last he stepped -out into the night air and stood upon the doorstep. Before him, in -the moon-light, were snow-covered fields, tall skeletons of elms and -maples, their leafless branches like barren memories against the sky. -But this New England landscape was not what he saw. He saw, through his -closed eyelids, the blue waters of the Adriatic. Close beside him a -pair of loving eyes, dark, tragic--but smiling now--were looking deep -into his own and the woman's lips were asking if it were possible for -the unborn child to inherit its mother's power of divining another's -thoughts. And he--the wise young doctor!--shook his head and smiled at -the foolish question. - -And, lo! not only had the power descended to the boy but with it had -come an added faculty even more mysterious and unbelievable! - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -IX - -DREAMS? - - -It was the very next morning that Ruth's father, the Rev. George -Bentley Heywood, received an urgent appeal from China to fill a vacancy -in the missionary field. Ten days after receiving the message he, his -wife and tearful daughter, were on a train for San Francisco. - -The days that followed were solemn days for Cyrus. And it so happened -that the next ten years were solemn years for Longfields. A new -railroad carried through a neighboring town left the village stranded. -The young men began to leave. When a house burned there was no -rebuilding. The tottering sheds behind the weed-grown cellar of the -Baptist Church were typical of the town's decay. It was significant -that when Philetus Bisbee died--house and carriage painter--his -business had so shrunk that no one took his place. The burning of the -inn meant that Longfields as a resting place for travelers was to be -forgotten. - -People died in Longfields, but few were born. Pupils at the little red -school house dwindled to about a dozen. The teacher's pay was so small -that to accept the position became an act of charity to the village. - -When Judge David Lincoln moved away he expressed sincere regret: "I am -sorry to go, but lawyers cannot thrive on memories alone." - -Wits of neighboring towns referred to the sleeping village as Pompeii, -Old Has Been and Long Memories. The main street with its overhanging -elms was always silent. And the common, once noisy with excited -children, was solemn in its stillness. Every day seemed Sunday. - -In short, Longfields went the way of many other New England villages. -It became a restful and picturesque reminder of better days. But, after -all, it was merely following, in its decay, the example of famous -queens of fashion, Troy, Babylon and Thebes. - -This gentle retirement to oblivion affected Cyrus less than his father. -For Dr. Alton sent him away to school, to prepare for college, and the -absent boy almost forgot the tragedies of his home. Moreover, Cyrus -found much excitement in his new surroundings; much to learn--and -unlearn--from contact with so many others of his age. They came from -town and country and from almost every state. What he got from books -was least in interest and often the least in value. That million-sided -problem, Human Nature, was, as usual, the hardest to understand, the -last to be solved. - -Rarely does a boy with Anglo Saxon blood in his veins find it -necessary to cure himself of too much polish. But even in this case -Old Human Nature was triumphant. When away from Longfields Cyrus -found his ceremonious courtesy was misapplied, misunderstood and -almost a misdemeanor. His eighteenth century bows were regarded by his -chambermaid as ironical; by his classmates as a silly affectation, -and were resented by his instructors as efforts to be funny at their -expense. - -Further discouragement came one day in the friendly warning of an older -boy. "You know, Drowsy, or you don't know, that those salaams of yours -give the impression that before you came to this academy you were the -colored porter on a parlor car." - -The result was that before the end of the first term his manners were -only a trifle better than those of other boys. Except, of course, when -taken off his guard, as in his interview with the wife of a certain -prosperous citizen who slipped and fell in coming out of the post -office. She was a sensitive lady, irascible and of massive proportions. -As she landed on the sidewalk, two snow white stockings with stalwart -limbs inside waved briefly before the public eye. They resembled the -whitened limbs of a billiard table. Letters fell from one of her -hands. With the other she clung convulsively to a large umbrella. Three -girls involuntarily laughed aloud. - -As the lady climbed to her feet two light blue eyes shot fury from a -purple face. When Cyrus stepped forward to gather up the scattered -letters he forgot all his recent training, raised his cap, moved it -gracefully in the air and bent low and reverentially--as the First -Lord of the Bed Chamber might salute his Sovereign. But the boiling -lady identified this seeming mockery with the laughter of the maidens. -She brought the fat umbrella hard down upon the head of Cyrus, and -she struck with all her might. Luckily for the recipient her hand was -quivering with rage, and no physical damage was accomplished. But the -damage to his pride was serious. As he straightened up and looked the -lady in the face his cheeks were hot. The erstwhile drowsy eye showed -astonishment--and anger. His cherubic lips had parted: "Then pick 'em -up yourself, you stupid old----" - -At that instant he recalled an injunction of his father. "Whatever may -happen, Cyrus, always be a gentleman." He had not been told just how a -gentleman should behave when beaten on the head with an umbrella--and -in public. But he closed his lips without even beginning the sentence. -He bowed again, and this bow was even more elaborate than the first. - -"I beg your pardon, madam." - -Then he turned, put on his cap and walked away. - -Again was heard the giggle of the girls. That a person should apologize -for being hit on the head with an umbrella was too funny for silence. - -Meanwhile, the cost of all this experience and of his pursuit of -knowledge fell heaviest on his father. The practical obliteration of -his native town and field of work meant financial embarrassment for -Dr. Alton. The few remaining inhabitants of the village were now too -poor to pay a doctor. To fit Cyrus for college, and keep him there, Dr. -Alton exhausted the small capital left him by his father. When that -was gone he tried to sell his orchard and the best portions of the -farm. But no purchasers appeared. He did sell, however, to a dealer in -Boston, some family heirlooms; rare pieces of Colonial furniture and -all his Canton china. - -To Cyrus, meanwhile, Fate was paying especial attention--with more to -come. During his last year in college a surprising change took place -in his ways of spending time--surprising, but familiar to biographers. -Such transformations, where indifference suddenly changes to ambition, -indolence to industry, and where the trifler becomes in earnest, -have frequently occurred, as with Julius Caesar, St. Paul, Henry V of -England, William Shakespeare, Mirabeau and many other notables. So -there was nothing original in this sudden awakening of Cyrus. During -the first three years of his college course he was a "good fellow." -When classmates entered his room with "Come along, Drows, old man; -chuck the books, and now for the real life," he joyfully obeyed and -took chances on recitations: with the usual result that only distant -relations were maintained with the upper end of his class. It was the -price of popularity and of the joy of living. Toward the end of his -last year, however, his more festive companions were horrified by an -unexpected miracle. A little book came into his hands. It threw a -dazzling light on the possibilities of electricity. It aroused his -curiosity and so kindled his imagination that he turned his back on -the "real life" and became studious. This sudden thirst for knowledge -caused a shock to his festive pals. They were anxious about him. For, -indeed, is there not cause for alarm, when a Bully Boy, a Rattling Good -Sport and a Live One suddenly loses his grip on "real life" and becomes -a Bookworm, a High Brow and a Dead One? - -But Cyrus did not weaken. He clung to his new love. Unavailing were -such arguments as "Chuck the science, Drowsy. There's time enough for -wisdom when you are old!" or, "Don't be a chump, Drows. You can't be -young forever. Remember, Youth is short and Science long." - -And he felt neither shame nor repentance when his own chum rebuked him. -"Drows, old man, you are just a crank. Harvard Students are not giving -points to old sharps in science. For God's sake don't be a freak and -get musty before your time." - -But words were wasted. This new ambition had brought to him a -revelation of his real self. He had no suspicion, at the time, that the -reading of this little book was to lead to adventures surpassing the -wonder tales of his childhood. To his brain came a dazzling light. He -began to realize the infinite possibilities of man's power, with the -hidden forces of the universe once in his control. A fantastic dream, -perhaps, but the more he thought the deeper grew his conviction. He -knew--or thought he knew--that he had it in him to open wider the door -that hides the secrets of the air. Greater still would have been his -confidence had he known that a part of his inheritance was the courage -and the genius of the famous Italian scientist who wrote the book. And -it appeared from the little portrait of the author that he, too, had -slumbrous eyes. It was ordained, however, that their relationship was -to remain hidden both from the great discoverer and from his yet more -daring grandson. - -At the end of the four years at Harvard, Dr. Alton's finances were -low, indeed. But Cyrus argued for a course in Chemistry and Physics at -the Institute of Technology in Boston. He took the course, and it was -clearly understood that it meant bitter economies for both father and -son. But the economies were calmly faced. Some of them meant serious -sacrifice in personal comfort, not only in the little luxuries of life, -but in clothing, food and fuel. Of blows to pride they made no account. - -At last Cyrus finished his course at the "Teck." His return to -Longfields was on a smiling afternoon in May and he found his father -at home, sitting on the porch with Luther Dean. Cyrus and his boyhood -friend had seen little of each other during the last six years. Luther -had grown into a rather handsome young man. Otherwise Fortune had not -favored him. With many other American boys, his ambition was to become -a millionaire, and to be quick about it. And with many other boys in -this upsetting country, he looked down, in fancy, from the glittering -peaks of sudden wealth, upon the patient plodders in the valley below. -Not for him the goody mottoes of the Sunday School. Not for him a -wasted youth in "starting at the bottom, working your way up" with -"slow but sure," and all the other maxims for smothering talent. For -him the Napoleonic grasp of opportunity, the cutting of the Gordian -knot. He believed in quick achievement. He believed - - "There is a tide in the affairs of men - Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune." - -And he believed in short cuts. His models for success were the -millionaires "who had struck it rich." And he was firm in the faith -that his revolt from "Patient Industry," "Honest Toil" and similar -delusions was a sign of genius. In other words, he was the sort of -youth no man desires in his employ. For brief periods he had held -positions in different establishments in Worcester. Now, again, he was -out of a job. - -But Luther's manners were good, and his raiment above reproach. At -present, as the three men sat on the porch, his spruce attire was in -striking contrast with the almost shabby garments of Dr. Alton and his -son. But Dr. Alton happened to be one of those men who have no need -of clothing unless for warmth or propriety. In his head and face and -figure were lines of strength and beauty that gave distinction. In his -bearing and in all his movements there was dignity and a natural grace. -Were he dressed as a beggar at a coronation he would have held his own. - -As for Cyrus, the last ten years seemed to have made little difference, -merely transforming him from boy to man; this change, as wise men have -long suspected, being mostly outward. He grew to the usual height, had -the usual number of teeth, recited from the usual books, played the -usual games, committed the usual follies, absorbed the usual experience -from the various victories and defeats of our usual life, still -retaining at twenty-one the drowsy eyes and curving lips of his early -childhood. Deep within him, however, were aspirations and a strength of -purpose that contradicted the languid eyes and boyish mouth. - -After the greetings, and when various questions had been asked and -answered, Dr. Alton lighted his old briarwood pipe, took a whiff or two -and said to his son: - -"And the great idea, Cyrus, any further developments?" - -"I should say there were! I've got it, father!" - -Dr. Alton raised his eyebrows. "Really? You don't mean----" - -"Yes I do. I mean just that. I have found it. It's the wonder of -wonders. And it works--even better than I hoped." - -Dr. Alton straightened up and smiled--a smile of surprise and pleasure. - -Cyrus returned the smile. At the same time his drowsy eyes became less -drowsy and in his voice was a mild excitement. "And so simple! Why, I -feel like laughing when I think of it. The only wonder is that hundreds -of people have never discovered it." - -"What is it?" said Luther. - -Cyrus hesitated a moment, as if to be sure of his words. "It's a simple -and inexpensive device for concentrating in a space about the size of -your two hands any quantity of electrical force." - -"When you say any quantity, do you mean enough to run a typewriter--or -an automobile?" - -"I mean enough to run a railroad train or an ocean steamer; or to lift -this house--or any other building." - -Luther smiled the smile of doubt. "And the thing is no bigger than your -two hands?" - -"It resembles two metal soup plates back to back." - -Luther whistled--a short whistle signifying a deficiency of belief. -"That sounds kind of--kind of--as if somebody had wheels in his head. -How does the miracle get its power?" - -"From the atmosphere around it." - -"With no dynamo, nor motor, nor transformer?" - -"All that is between the metal dinner plates. Why manufacture power -when the whole universe is vibrating with it? It is like manufacturing -air to breathe." - -Luther leaned forward, excitement in his face. "Why it doesn't seem -possible. And you have really done it, Drowsy?" - -Cyrus nodded. - -"But it will revolutionize everything!" - -"Yes--it will." - -"Is it some new form of electricity you discovered?" - -"No, merely a new way of applying our old knowledge. You see, it has -been known for some time that air is energy. Dancing about us, in the -atmosphere, is plenty of power waiting to be harnessed; power enough to -toss mountains into space if we could only direct it. You may have read -about the tremendous force in the vibrations of atoms." - -"No; not a word." - -"Well, every atom is a center of energy. And every atom is composed -of millions of electrons. Do you happen to be interested in electro -kinetics?" - -"Don't even know what it means." - -"It relates to the properties of electric currents. My discovery is -merely the concentration and directing of those currents. The apparatus -is about the size of an apple pie, and so simple that I laugh when I -think of it." - -"But, Drowsy, you can't get so much power in such a little mechanism. -That thing could never start a locomotive or an ocean steamship." - -"Start it! A dozen of these little things fastened to an ocean -steamer could lift it in the air to any height, crew, passengers and -cargo, and drive it at any rate of speed and for any distance. And at -no cost." - -[Illustration: "COULD LIFT IT IN THE AIR TO ANY HEIGHT, CREW, -PASSENGERS, AND CARGO"--_Page 155_] - -Luther whistled. "Is Cyrus guying us, Doctor, or is he only dotty?" - -Dr. Alton smiled, but gave no answer. - -"After you had lifted the steamship up into the air," said Luther, "how -soon could you get her across the ocean?" - -"That's for the captain to decide. He could do it comfortably in an -hour or two--or, in five or ten minutes, if he were really in a hurry." - -"Oh, I say, Drowsy, come down to earth again, and join us." - -"No, I can't come down when I once get up. But I don't blame you for -not believing it, Luther. I only believe it myself when I see it -working. It is really easy to understand, though, when you know that -electro magnetic waves in the ether are cavorting through space at the -rate of about a hundred and eighty-six thousand miles a second, forced -by our friends the electrons. There's no reason why my device should -not go at about the same rate. That would take our passengers and cargo -across the ocean in considerably less than one minute." - -Dr. Alton shook his head. "No, Cyrus, that's too sudden even for a -Yankee." - -Luther assumed an expression of alarm. "Do you think Cyrus will get -over this, Doctor? Is he wild on other subjects, or is it only one -screw that's loose?" - -Cyrus laughed and turned toward his father. "What an awful joke if -Luther should be right! I could easily believe it a crazy dream if one -or two scientists had not already prophesied it. The thing was sure to -come. And now that it's here it seems too simple to be true. I merely -happen to be the first man to stumble on it." - -"Just what is it?" said Luther. "How do you do it? What's the process?" - -For an instant their eyes met. To Luther came an odd sensation he had -known as a boy--that the tranquil gaze of Cyrus was reading his secret -thoughts. As his thoughts at that moment were not for publication the -sensation was disturbing. To hide his embarrassment he turned away -toward Dr. Alton, and made a joking remark about trips to Europe, over -and back, on Saturday afternoon. "It even beats wireless," he said. - -"Well, rather!" said Cyrus. "Wireless will soon be a back number." - -Again Luther whistled. "Wireless a back number! Well, that's certainly -going some!" - -But Dr. Alton showed little surprise, merely regarding his son more -attentively. "What is to take its place, Cyrus?" - -"Just the spoken word. Its transmission through the ether with no -mechanical appliance for sending or for receiving." - -Luther smiled. "It will have to be a pretty loud voice." - -"No louder than wireless. It will be carried by the same forces that -carry the wireless message, only more simply applied. The air about -us is alive with electric force that is perfectly willing to take our -messages without the machinery." - -Dr. Alton smiled. "Well, you seem to have confidence in it. That's a -good beginning, anyway." - -Cyrus also smiled. "I have already done it." - -"Already done it?" - -"Yes, sir; and more than once. Billy Saunders and I went out into the -country, stood nearly a mile apart, spoke in ordinary tones and each -heard more than half the other said." - -"With no instruments whatever?" - -"None except a little receiver about the size of your watch." - -Luther whistled again. On his face was a look of surprise--the Surprise -that's the brother of Doubt. - -Dr. Alton was looking earnestly at his son. "Is that really true, -Cyrus? Are you absolutely sure no previous knowledge of each other's -intentions may have helped a little?" - -Then Cyrus explained the experiments in detail. He told how they -purposely chose subjects unknown to each other; how they put on paper -the words as they arrived; that the percentage of messages correctly -received increased at every trial; and that weather conditions, wind, -rain or sunshine seemed to make little difference in the results. -After answering other questions, he said to his father: - -"But that is only the beginning. The day is coming when even the spoken -word will be superfluous." - -"Just what do you mean, Cyrus?" - -"I mean communicating thought by electric induction--by direct -vibrations." - -"Say, Cyrus!" exclaimed Luther, "the Arabian Nights isn't in it with -you!" - -"No, it isn't," said Cyrus. "For I have already done it." - -"Done what?" - -"Sent thought waves--and received them." - -"Oh, come off." - -But Dr. Alton was looking earnestly at his son. He recalled one or two -occasions when Cyrus had accomplished this very thing. And now, as they -looked into each other's eyes, he suspected his own thoughts, at this -very moment, were being read. His suspicions were correct, for Cyrus -answered an unspoken question. - -"Yes, sir, it's the same as those you are recalling. But now I -understand it. Much depends, of course, on the individual. Latent -faculties in individuals, however, can be surprisingly developed. I do -believe that within a few years our thoughts, spoken and unspoken, will -be traveling through the air as wireless travels now." - -Dr. Alton made no reply. He closed his eyes for a time and smoked in -silence. His thoughts went back to those unexplained episodes when -Cyrus was a boy; then further back to the villa by the Adriatic. He was -recalling a conversation in the loggia of that hidden villa when Luther -rose to his feet and exclaimed: - -"Is there anything, Cyrus, too impossible for you to believe?" - -"Nothing--if it is interesting. I never reject a good fairy tale. Why -be a skeptic? To look at a skeptic's face is enough. His digestion is -never good. He thinks with his stomach and his stomach reacts on his -brain. That means farewell to enthusiasm and to all the best things of -life. Ambition and gastric juice are partners. Had Buddha, Christ or -Mohammed been skeptics you never would have heard of them. No skeptic -could possibly succeed as an inventor, poet, explorer, patriot, or as -any other kind of hero. He fails before he begins." - -Cyrus paused for a moment, then added: "Perhaps you are both saying to -yourselves, better be a skeptic than a credulous ass. But that's open -to argument. The credulous ass is not only happier but he has Hope for -a backer, and he is a heap sight more likely to get somewhere than the -pessimist. The pessimist never starts." - -His father nodded approval. - -Luther put on his hat. "Right you are, Drowsy. Me for a credulous ass. -I swallow all you say, electric miracles and all. Of course, this -sending ideas about the world free of expense and without even the -trouble of saying them, is quite a morsel for the ordinary throat, but -I've got it part way down and am holding on to it. If what you say is -true, miracles are with us. Jimminy! It's a large idea!" - -"No miracle at all," said Cyrus. "Not half so miraculous as the growth -of that apple tree from a seed. And the human brain! Two handfuls of -gray matter--and what it achieves! Did you ever happen to realize what -a self-starting, Johnny-on-the-Spot, up-to-date miracle your memory is?" - -Luther laughed. "Well, no. Not enough to forget my meals." - -"Then do it some time. It's the champion mystery of the world. No man -knows how it works. We know it furnishes us with names and places, -facts and figures and events without limit, and they come to us -instantaneously without waiting to be called. A thousand telegraph -clerks with an acre of pigeon holes could not accomplish in an -hour what your memory does in a second. It is quicker than greased -lightning. It's the miracle of miracles. Why, Luther, these thought -waves of mine, compared with it, are so simple and so easy that any -normal baby could operate them." - -"I guess you are right." - -After a few more words, this conversation ended, and Luther departed. -But Dr. Alton and Cyrus sat a long time on the little porch talking -seriously of the Great Discovery. - -But the inventor, later that afternoon, was not too much absorbed in -electric wonders to visit a corner at the end of the garden. There he -straightened up a slab that marked a grave. The slab was of wood. He -brushed the surface with careful hands and read the letters he himself -had carved nine years before. - - HeRe Lies - Zac ALton He - Was VeRY SmARt - and ALSO - GooD - -These lines Cyrus always read with a smile--not of mirth, but of -satisfaction with their truth and justice to his old friend's -character. Pleasant indeed were those memories!--lively and bounding -memories: of adoration for himself and of unswerving loyalty to the -final breath of a short but joyous life. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -X - -THE FARTHEST TRAVELER - - -One sultry morning about six weeks later, Luther Dean got off a train -at Springfield. Along the shady side of the main street he walked. -He walked faster than usual. His eyes, his hot, perspiring face and -general manner showed suppressed excitement. And why not? Wealth, and -without labor, would soon be his. - -A few blocks from the station he turned into another street, then, not -far from the corner he entered a small shop. On the front window of the -shop were these words: - - I. KATZ - - ELECTRICAL CONTRACTOR - -The brevity of his name, as here shown, gave as much pleasure to the -proprietor as he had suffered annoyance from his fuller and more -various name, Isidore Pollacksek Zwillenberg Stchcrbatcheff Katz. And -even his last little name had proved almost a curse, as his intimates -called him "Malty" and "Puss Katz"; also "Tom Katz" and "How Many." -But I. Katz, of black eyes and muddy complexion, was an ambitious -young man, industrious, surprisingly clever, watchful and polite. He -and Luther Dean had one desire in common--an unquenchable thirst for -wealth. There was, however, this important difference, that Katz was -willing to work for it, while Luther regarded thirst as a substitute -for effort. - -When Katz's mother, Rosa Hlawatsch, married Emanuel Katz she had a -prosperous brother-in-law, Schweers Hjort, who lent the bridal pair -enough money to start for America. Two years after Isidore's birth his -parents died. Then Mr. and Mrs. Zoob Pschenitza adopted the orphan and -cared for him until his nineteenth year, when he found employment with -Mr. Hitzrot Fuss, an electrician. Mr. Hitzrot Fuss was a cousin of the -Zoob Pschenitzas. - -This July morning when Luther entered his shop I. Katz had been in -business for himself about a year. The opening of the door rang a bell -that gave warning to the proprietor, at work in a little shop at the -rear. Luther walked directly to this little shop. I. Katz laid down his -work. - -"Ah! Good morning, Dean." - -"Same to you, Kittens." - -"Haven't seen you for a long time. How are you? What's the news from -Longdeado?" - -"News enough--this time." - -As the two men stood by the work bench, and Katz took a second look at -his visitor's face, he said: - -"What's the matter? Something on your mind?" - -Luther removed his hat and coat and lit a cigarette before answering. - -"Well, I should say there was. Have you any objections to being a -millionaire?" - -"Not especially. Got the cash with you?" - -"Not this morning. But I've got the next thing to it." - -If Katz felt any excitement at this announcement he concealed it. -Perhaps he knew Luther too well. With a smile, and a slight movement of -the shoulders, he said: - -"Of course it's a dead sure thing." - -"It is." - -"Well, that's something." - -"You know, Katzy, the only sure things in this world are death and -taxes." - -"Yes. So I've heard." - -"Well, compared with this thing of mine, taxes are dreams and death -never happens. Listen. I can place in your hands a contrivance -hardly bigger than a dinner plate that generates electricity without -machinery; that has infinite power; that can drag railway trains of any -size at any speed and can drive an ocean steamer. It weighs about five -pounds and costs nothing to run." - -Katz slowly moved his head, and frowned. - -"It's a bad habit, Luther." - -"What's a bad habit?" - -"Cocktails in the morning. You are seeing miracles." - -Luther protested. Then he explained The Thing in detail. Katz -pronounced it impossible. - -"Of course it's impossible!" said Luther. "That's why it's so devilish -good. It does the impossible all day long and all night, too. Why, -Katz, it can do anything you ask it--and with no expense. God Almighty -supplies the electricity--all you want and for nothing. Can you beat -it?" - -The electrician began to show interest. - -"But are you pop sure it can do these things? Have you seen it work -yourself?" - -Then to I. Katz, with the bright eyes and muddy complexion, Luther told -of the wonders he had seen with his own eyes--touched with his own -hands. He described the two soup plates of metal fastened together, -with the mysterious space between--the small chamber which held the -Miracle of Science. And its priceless secret to be theirs! To give some -idea of the power of these two plates he told Katz what happened to -Delos King and his load of hay. Delos King's big load of hay got stuck -in the meadow. The wheels had sunk in the mud up to the hubs. Two yokes -of oxen tried in vain to stir it. Then Cyrus Alton, carrying The Thing -in his hand went down to the meadow, fastened what Delos King thought -were two kitchen plates to the end of the pole, turned the button a -fraction of an inch and drew the big load of hay out of the bog and up -the hill as if it had been a baby carriage! - -Moreover, Luther described to Katz his own experience with this device. -When fastened to his chest with straps, that went over his shoulder and -under his arms, he had turned the little button and had been lifted -gently from the floor and he floated at will near the roof of the old -barn. - -"But what flabbergasted the old hard heads more than any other one -thing," continued Luther, "was the way Cyrus fixed the weather vane on -the Baptist Church. It had been struck by lightning--bent and twisted. -It's a tall spire and the deacons were trying to figure the cheapest -way of getting up there without a scaffolding, when Cyrus happened -along. 'What's it going to cost you?' he asked. 'Twenty-five dollars -at least,' they said. 'Give me twenty-five,' said Cyrus, 'and I'll do -it before night.' 'It'll take you half a day to get up there either by -rope or scaffolding,' they said. 'I can get up there in one minute,' -said Cyrus, 'after I once start.' At first they laughed, but they -agreed to pay twenty-five dollars. Then Cyrus went home--this was in -the forenoon--came back with his two soup plates; also a hammer, a -monkey wrench and a few other tools. And right there in front of the -crowd, he slung the bag of tools across his shoulders, strapped on the -soup plates, turned a button and rose up in the air like a wingless -angel. Gee! I tell you the deacons stared! Their eyes were wider open -than their mouths!" - -"No wonder!" said Katz. "They had reason to be! And did he fix the -vane?" - -"Well, rather! It didn't take him an hour." - -Luther told of other doings that had startled Longfields; of the -metal contrivance over ten feet long that resembled a fat cigar; -how Cyrus Alton sat inside and, without apparent machinery, rose up -through an opening in the barn and sailed at will, in any direction -and to any altitude. In one evening he had sailed over the whole of -Massachusetts--and more, too. - -Then I. Katz, whose bright black eyes had grown brighter and brighter, -asked many questions. All his questions were answered promptly, and so -clearly as to leave no doubt that the tale was true. - -"But how can you get hold of the miracle?" he asked. "What's your -scheme?" - -Then the artful Yankee unfolded to the still more artful Asiatic his -plan--a plan so simple that even the artful Asiatic began to feel -prosperous. Some pleasant morning and very soon, while talking with -Cyrus, Luther would buckle on the little machine, as if to sail about -the barn. Cyrus would probably consent, as on two previous occasions. -Then he, Luther, would turn the button too far, as if by accident, -pretend to lose control of the machine, and sail up through the big -skylight of the barn, which was always open in pleasant weather. He -would wriggle his elbows as if trying to regain control of The Thing. -Once up in the air, above the roof of the barn, he would steer in the -direction of a certain pond, two miles away, all the time working his -hands and elbows as if trying to get back to earth. - -"Are you sure you can do it?" said Katz. "You might really lose control -if you didn't keep your head." - -Luther smiled. "Oh, I can do it all right! I have no idea of steering -for heaven before my time. You see I've already done it, and I guess I -did it about as well as Alton himself. It's really as easy as driving a -Ford--and lots more fun. Why, Pussy, it's like being a bird!" - -Katz nodded. "Yes, it sounds good. But where will you go when you once -get up?" - -"To the big pond, three miles off. It's always a deserted -place--especially forenoons. I shall land in a little cove I know, -unstrap the machine and hide it in the woods there. Then I shall wade -comfortably into the shallow water and lie down for a minute,--with my -clothes on." - -I. Katz's eyebrows went up. "I see; I see! Bright idea! The machine -carried you into water and you had to swim ashore." - -"Even so." - -"And you lost the machine, which is somewhere in the mud at the bottom -of the pond." - -"Yep." - -"And you'll hurry back to your friend while still wet, so he'll know -that what you say is true!" - -"You've got it. And that afternoon I'll bring the invention to your -shop." - -I. Katz, of the muddy complexion, stroked his Oriental nose and nodded -approval. His comprehending eyes lingered for an instant on Luther's -face with a look that indicated admiration and a friendly feeling. -But the unflattering thoughts it covered were not divined by the New -Englander. - - * * * * * - -It was decreed by incorruptible Fate that Luther's opportunity should -come the very next morning. - -Cyrus was at work in the barn. Dr. Alton, sitting just outside the door -in the shade of the building, was reading a war article in a French -journal that some one had sent him from Europe. Luther moved idly -about, as if to pass the time. At a moment when he saw Cyrus especially -absorbed in his work--inside the big iron cigar--he took up The Thing -and adjusted the straps about his shoulders. - -"I am going to float around the barn," he said, "and see how the roof -looks." - -"All right," said Cyrus, keeping on with his work and not turning his -head. - -To avoid all risk of hitting the sides of the skylight--for he must -rise with apparently unexpected suddenness--he stepped outside the -building. With a smile and a nod he said to Dr. Alton: - -"If you never saw a real angel, Doctor, here's your chance." - -As he put his fingers to the button Cyrus came running out. "Stop! Hold -on Luther! Let go! That's not adjusted!" - -But Luther was not to be thwarted at the high tide of victory--with -riches within reach. He put his fingers to the button and said, with a -smile: - -"Oh, I know how it----" - -The sentence was never finished. He had given the slightest turn, -having a sensible fear of the unknown force within. In his haste he -must have turned it a fraction more than he intended. For then happened -the unprecedented thing--the thing without parallel in human life; so -awful, so solemn, so unearthly, that the two men who saw it stood dumb -in horror. - -As he was speaking, with the smile on his lips, he was lifted from the -earth by the straps beneath his arms with a violence that stopped his -speech--and his breathing. Up he shot, more like a cannon ball than -a rocket. So fast he went, gaining speed with every second, growing -smaller and fainter to the two spectators, until--and it all happened -in the shortest minute--he disappeared, a tiny speck in the blue sky -above. - -He had no chance to change his speed. - -His straw hat, with its crimson band,--like a frivolous friend too -light of heart for sudden tragedy--came tumbling earthward, then -floated off to the west in playful, easy spirals. A gay farewell to a -lifeless body. For death had been instantaneous. - -[Illustration: "--AND GLIDE FOREVER, A HOMELESS VAGRANT THROUGH THE -DUSKY VOID"--_Page 171_] - -Dr. Alton and Cyrus stood looking upward--at the spot in the heavens -where Luther had disappeared from earthly vision. It was hard to -believe what their eyes had seen. And when, in silent horror, they -looked into each other's faces, both knew that this sudden traveler had -started on a darker and a longer voyage than any previous explorer; -that he was moving at a speed unknown to other mortals, and that his -journey would never end. Both knew that within the hour he would be -beyond the orbit of the earth; that the power propelling him felt no -exhaustion. Unless colliding with other celestial derelicts, or drawn -into the path of some distant planet--Neptune or Uranus--he would push -further out into the Infinite. Then, would he join some starry host, -off toward the Milky Way, the Southern Cross or Orion's Belt, and glide -forever, a homeless vagrant through the dusky void? - -His youthful features, untouched by decaying moisture in the icy gloom, -might remain, through the countless ages as his friends last saw him, -long after his native earth--like its own moon--had become a lifeless -ball. Or, beyond the visible stars, far out into bottomless Space,--too -far ever to return--is he to wander through the uncharted regions of -yet remoter worlds? - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -XI - -UNSIGHT UNSEEN - - -"After midnight, Uncle George, and miles from anywhere, so do please -hurry." - -These were parting words to an uncle as he started back to the nearest -house--perhaps a quarter of a mile away--to get gasoline for his motor. - -Alone in the car, the waiting woman began to realize the extraordinary -darkness that enveloped her. Along the road, in front, the two head -lights sent their beams of light. But elsewhere, on either side, behind -her and above, the black air seemed almost threatening in its silence. -So solemn was this silence that she began to imagine herself the only -living creature in England. Her own home was in another country, and -the invisible scenery on either side was all a mystery. It might be -open fields or densest forest--or both. But the damp air that came -slowly against her face seemed laden with odors of yet darker places, -of deep ravines or sunless caves. - -Was this hideous gloom a regular habit with English nights? Being -in a foreign land this darkness was, perhaps, more terrifying than -darkness in a more familiar country. In the heavens above were no signs -of light, either of light that had been or of light to come. And it -seemed, in this tomb-like silence, as if the very universe were dead: -as if she had drifted into space--the infinite space of her astronomy. -From this sable silence she sought relief in watching a portion of the -road that lay before her, now illumined by the two lanterns of the car. -These beams of light seemed a cheerful, human bond between life and -death. - -From the gloom, on her right, came the hopeless hoot of an owl. It -seemed a voice from the sepulcher--a summons to despair. - -A hundred feet, or more, in front of her, where the farthest rays of -this light began to lose themselves and mingle with the darkness, she -saw a rabbit jump into the road, and speed across it. She wondered what -had frightened him. Also, she was inclined to blame him for not being -safe at home with his family instead of roaming about the world on such -an evil night. To a woman yearning for a sign of life 'twas a welcome -sight; but this rabbit, although a thing of life, was as noiseless and -unreal as the ghostly world about him. With his half dozen silent leaps -through the bar of light he seemed a phantom creature, "of such stuff -as dreams are made of." - -From his nervous haste she judged that he was frightened. It was -possible, of course, that he was a fearless rabbit and merely taking -exercise for his health. But this theory was not accepted, and she -watched with interest to see what sort of a pursuer, if any, might -appear. Being in that state of mind when almost any imaginings might -come true, she would not have been surprised had the pursuer been a -real phantom. - -But these speculations became less trifling, of a sudden, and were -transferred to quite a more serious object. From the same place, in the -same ghostly manner, but more slowly than his predecessor, stepped the -figure of a man. Shading his eyes with a hand, he stood for a moment in -the stream of light as if taking his bearings, or dazed by the glare -of the lanterns. Then he scraped, with his foot, a line in the road at -right angles to it, piling up a little mound of earth. The witness, in -the car, supposed he was marking for future guidance the spot at which -he entered from the blacker world. At last, and always with a hand -before his eyes, he came toward the blinding headlights. The invisible -spectator had straightened up and her dreaming eyes had opened wider. -For the figure was a strange one. On its head was a curious cap, which -seemed to be of leather. There were pieces at the ears standing up like -wings, as on some ancient helmets she had seen in pictures. The rest of -his attire also resembled leather, with high leggings reaching above -his knees. Around his waist a wide metallic band, something wider and -more important than a simple belt, glistened as he moved. The girl, -in alarm, stood up, looked back and listened for the absent uncle. She -heard nothing, and could see nothing. She sat down again, and waited. - -The man, of medium height and slender figure, appeared to move -unsteadily, as if weak, or dizzy. He walked slowly, and stopped, once -or twice, as if to balance himself on unreliable legs. The unseen -spectator thought he might be ill, or injured in some way. When, at -last, he passed from the glare of the headlights and came into the -darkness, beside the car, she could discern him, dimly--or rather felt -his presence--as he stood there. And she knew that he was trying, and -probably in vain, to form some idea of the seated figure before him. At -last he spoke. - -"Can you tell me, sir, where this is; what place?" - -With these words the girl's fears departed. For, not only were they -uttered in a gentle, well modulated tone, but the voice itself had a -pleasing quality. - -"I don't know, sir. But my uncle will be here in a moment. He can tell -you." - -She could see that he took a step backward, and stood further away. - -"I beg your pardon, madam. One can't see much in this light. Could you -tell me what--er--what state this is?" - -"What state?" - -"Yes--if you please." - -This was a yet harder question. Did he mean some administrative -division of the country which she had never learned. Being unfamiliar -with English political geography, she answered simply. - -"I don't know." - -This time it was the questioner who was surprised. But, even more -gently than before, he inquired: - -"You don't know what state we are in?" - -"No, sir." - -There was a short silence. - -"Could you tell me," he inquired, always deferentially, "the name of -the nearest town?" - -"Droitwich. I think we are in it now." - -"Droitwich?" - -"Yes, Droitwich." - -He repeated the name as if hearing it for the first time. - -"It must be a small place," he said. - -"I think it is." - -"What is the nearest town of importance;--the nearest city?" - -"Worcester." - -"Oh, Worcester! Thank you. I know Worcester. But I never heard of that -other place,--this place,--Droitwich. How far are we from Worcester?" - -"About six miles, I think--six or seven." - -"Oh, really!" He seemed relieved. There was happy surprise in his tone. -"Thank you. I am very much obliged. Good night." - -He walked away, out into the stream of light. Slowly he walked, -carefully and with uncertain steps. A few yards away, however, he -stopped, hesitated, then turned, came back and again stood beside her. - -"I beg your pardon for being so persistent, but may I ask you one more -question, even more foolish than the others? This city of Worcester is -in the State of Massachusetts, is it not?" - -"In the state of Massachusetts?" - -"Yes--that Worcester is the one you mean, is it not?" - -Now if this conversation had occurred in the United States the girl -might have answered wisely, for she was more familiar with that country -and knew something of its geography. But when such wide-of-the-mark -questions were propounded in the heart of England they brought -bewilderment. Moreover, they indicated an unbelievable ignorance or a -wandering mind--or impertinence. - -Her frown, although invisible in the darkness, seemed to reach the -traveler. - -"I beg your pardon, but I really have no idea where I am. Would you -mind just telling me what part of the country we are in? Are we in -Massachusetts?" - -His manner was earnest. The sincerity of his tone again inspired -confidence--and awakened her sympathy. "I don't quite know how to tell -you, but we are very far from Massachusetts." - -"Then what state _is_ this?" - -"I don't know just what you mean by state. The only state of -Massachusetts I ever heard of is in America." - -"Isn't this America?" - -This question so far transcended, in foolishness, all its predecessors -that her fears returned. She made no reply. What traveler, in his -senses, could be so far astray? Was he a wandering lunatic escaped from -his keepers, preferring darkness to light? Or was he merely amusing -himself at her expense? As she recalled the lateness of the hour, and -his strange appearance on the scene, her fears once more returned. Her -impulse was to stand up, turn about and see if her uncle was in sight. -But she dared not stir. Such action might offend him. For lunatics are -often sensitive, and easily enraged. The figure in the gloom, however, -came no nearer, but remained at a proper distance. When next he spoke -it was slowly, and yet more earnestly. And the girl knew from his -manner as well as from his words that he suspected the impression he -was making. - -"I don't blame you, madam, for whatever thoughts you may have. I have -traveled so fast and so far that I am really dazed. But if you will -kindly tell me where we are, in what country, state, province or -territory,--anything--it will be doing me a great service." - -In a constrained voice, and in a tone which made it reasonably clear -that this conversation was affording her little pleasure, she replied: - -"We are near the city of Worcester, in England." - -For a moment he stood in silence. Then, with a certain weariness in -his voice, "Thank you. I hope you will pardon my disturbing you." - -"Certainly." - -Again he moved away. - -This man's voice stirred memories. But these memories--of some far-away -past--were dim and elusive. Vainly she tried to recall either when or -where she had known the voice. Just as he was turning from the bar of -light to disappear into the outer gloom, there came to her a gleam of -memory from the distant past. Quickly she stood up in the car, her -lips parted to call aloud. But she hesitated. A mistake, under present -conditions, might prove more than awkward. So she uttered no sound. -The stranger, however, as if responding to the unuttered words--to -the thought itself--turned about and came toward the car. He walked -quickly, but with the same unsteadiness as when he first appeared; and -always with a hand before his eyes to shut out the blinding glare of -the headlight. When alongside the car, again invisible in the darkness, -he said: - -"Yes, I am Drowsy. Who calls me?" - -She was startled as she realized, in a kind of terror, that the -unspoken message must have reached him. However, she answered, simply: - -"Ruth Heywood." - -With an exclamation of surprise and joy he opened the door, climbed in -and seated himself beside her. - -"Oh, this is too good!" - -In the darkness he groped about and they managed to shake hands. - -"Why, Ruth, this is hard to believe!" - -It was, indeed! Many questions were asked, and answered. And they -talked of earlier days at Longfields, of Longfields people, of what -sort of men and women their playmates had become. More than all else, -they talked of their old friendship and their various adventures -together. And both laughed in recalling how Ruth in that distant period -was mother, sister, aunt, governess and best girl to Cyrus. This -revival of the old intimacy had reached a stage where the enshrouding -darkness was almost forgotten. - -"But tell me, Drowsy," she demanded, "how came you here and why did you -ask all those crazy questions? I should be sorry to think you had been -dining too well." - -"Dining too well! No, my wabbly course just now was owing, partly, to -not having dined at all:--and with neither lunch nor breakfast either." - -"You poor thing! Then why pretend you didn't know you were in England?" - -"There was no pretending. I really didn't know until you told me." - -"Indeed! And where did you think yourself? In Australia?" - -"I had no idea. If you had told me I was in Australia I should have -believed you. I have been traveling so high above the earth that the -upper ether went to my head--and legs." - -[Illustration: "----FAR AND FAST, EVEN FOR A BIRD MAN"--_Page 181_] - -"You must have been fast and far, even for a bird man, if you didn't -know on which side of the ocean you had landed." - -There was a silence:--a silence of doubt and of budding suspicion in -the woman's mind. - -"Listen, Ruth. I _have_ been far and fast, even for a bird man. I will -tell you all about it later, if you don't mind. If I told you now, you -would think me crazier, if possible, than when I asked those questions. -And I shouldn't blame you. My story would seem as fantastic as if I -had been around the world in a night, or to another planet. What I -have done--where I have been is--is--so impossible that you would -be a very credulous person to believe it. But later I will tell you -all--everything--please consider me in my right mind." - -"In your right mind! Why, Drowsy, you were never in your right mind! -So I should believe anything you told me--unless it was something easy -or natural, like other people. You were always doing impossible things -and thinking impossible thoughts--a most disturbing boy. I remember I -always felt responsible for you. You wanted the moon--even then." - -"And now, a full-fledged lunatic, I have just come from the moon!" - -"I have no doubt you think so. And you were always reaching up to pick -a star. Yes, you _were_ a trial." - -Cyrus laughed. "Will you do me a favor?" - -"Depends on what it is." - -"Just a little one?" - -"Probably not. But what is it?" - -"You remember our wedding at the Unitarian Church, away back in that -enchanted past?" - -"Yes." - -"Well, just consider that ceremony binding." - -"Now you are getting crazy again." - -"No, I was never saner." - -"Very likely, but you are crazy now. Why, Drowsy, being only a man, you -don't realize how lucky we are that it was not binding!" - -"Lucky for you, perhaps," said Cyrus, "but not for me. I am sure you -are even more desirable, more beautiful, more generally perfect and -irresistible--if possible--than you were then." - -"On the contrary. If you could see me by daylight you would shout for -joy at your escape." - -"No, Ruth, you can't fool me that way. Are you little or big?" - -He groped about and laid a hand on her shoulder. "I should say you were -little." - -She pushed away the hand. "Keep your hands to yourself, Cyrus. You -forget we are no longer children." - -Cyrus obeyed. "True enough. But we were really married, you know. -Surely a husband may touch his wife's shoulder. Tell me, have you the -same wonder-working eyes and mouth and haughty bearing? You are not a -great big woman, I have discovered that." - -"No, I am neither big nor lovely. I am little and dried up--and -wrinkled, like a baked apple--and surprisingly ugly." - -"Dried up at your age? May I touch your face just a little?" - -"You may not!" - -"Oh, well, it doesn't matter. There's charm in baked apples. There's -character in a dried-up face." - -"But that was only the beginning. As I dried and shriveled, my hair -fell out." - -"Good! I love a bald head--especially in a woman. There's no -distinction in hair. All animals have it. In that delectable period -of sudden marriages, I remember some things clearly, as if yesterday. -I recall distinctly the eyes of my bride. No man could forget them. -In their fathomless depths even a boy could lose himself. And, oh, so -beautiful! One such eye would transform a dried apple face into a thing -of joy. And in that bride's face were two of them. Don't tell me they, -also, are gone." - -"Only one." - -"Too bad! Have you lost any limbs?" - -"Not yet." - -"And your teeth are gone?" - -"Oh, long, long ago." - -There was a silence. So black was the enveloping darkness that the -silence itself seemed heavy, as if forbidding conversation. - -At last Cyrus spoke. "So far as I can learn, your face is like a baked -apple, your teeth and one eye are gone, and you have no hair. But I'll -take you as you are." - -Ruth laughed. "Why, Cyrus! That's practically an offer of marriage! -You appear even wilder and more reckless than when you were trying to -discover whether you were in England or Massachusetts." - -"On the contrary, I am wiser than you think. I was in love with you in -Longfields--and I am finding now that neither time nor absence have -changed that feeling. What's a tooth, an eye, or a few hairs more or -less to an honest lover?" - -"Honest humbug! You forget how well I knew you. You had no respect for -truth." - -"Yes, but only as a child. I am telling the truth now, on my honor. -Let's not separate again. Why, it's beginning a new life! Come. Let's -go back to the Unitarian Church and be married just once more. Only -once more; that's all I ask." - -"Indeed I shall not! I am not buying a pig in a poke. When daylight -came and I really saw you I might be sick with horror." - -"No, no! I'm not so bad as that! In fact I look about as I did when a -boy, only--more beautiful." - -"Then you are a funny looking man, Drowsy, with your sleepy eyes and -your little buttoned-up mouth." - -Cyrus laughed. "No, I swear I'm not funny looking. I have the same -eyes, but my mouth is three times as long. It's one of the largest and -most admired mouths in Massachusetts. But why these questions? You saw -me a few minutes ago when I came along. The glare of those headlights -ought to illuminate any kind of a face." - -"You held your hand before your face to shade your eyes." - -"So I did. But, seriously, Ruthy, I realize now that all my old feeling -for you has never died. Your voice alone revives the memories of those -pleasant years. Why part again? It might be forever." - -"A thousand reasons." - -"But no good ones. What better test of my affection could you want? -I don't ask to see your face. Your voice, your words, yourself, and -old-time memories are more than enough. Come. Say yes." - -"No. Never in the world! Suppose, when you could really see me, there -came regrets. What a position for a woman! Oh, no! Never that!" - -"Don't say 'never.'" - -"Is this a habit of yours--making love in the dark to women you don't -know? You should have a guardian." - -"Be that guardian!" - -"Thank you, I have other occupations." - -Here came a silence. The thoughts of Cyrus, whatever they might be, -were interrupted by Ruth: - -"You must think me a most adaptable woman, Cyrus, to fall in love, at a -minute's notice, with a voice and a memory." - -"If you are a toothless, hairless, wrinkled, one-eyed hag you ought to -be grateful." - -"A toothless hag, even with no pride--may have a little caution." - -"Anyway," said Cyrus, and he spoke more seriously--and with more -decision--"I am in earnest. I may be talking like a fool--I don't know -how to express myself. Meeting you again is like a new life. As a -little girl, Ruthy, you were everything to me. You don't know what a -difference, what a void it made when you vanished and left me adrift. -Now that we are again together, and I am older, I realize what I lost. -After you left Longfields--and your leaving was awfully sudden, if -you remember--not even a chance to say good-by--I used to sit on your -doorstep and try to think you would come out." - -"Is that true?" - -"On my honor. And one moonlight night when father and Joanna thought I -was in bed I stood at my window and tried to get a message to you, in -the old way--hoping a thought would reach you. Then I stole out of the -house, ran to yours and threw little stones against the closed shutters -of your empty chamber. Of course no answer came. But I waited and -waited. The moonlight seemed to encourage me. And when I had waited in -vain--a very long time,--it seemed a year--I pretended you came to the -window and we had a long talk." - -She laughed. "And what did I say?" - -"You said just what I wanted you to say: the nicest things; the things -I was yearning for. Quite different from what you are saying to-night." - -"If you thought of me so much, why didn't you write to me?" - -"I did. I wrote twice." - -"I never got them." - -"I will tell you why you never got them if you will promise not to -laugh." - -"I promise." - -"They were directed simply to Miss Ruth Heywood, China. And China, I -have learned since, is a larger place than Longfields." - -"Oh, you poor boy!" - -"And when I was a freshman at Cambridge, I tried hard to fall in love -with a girl because she reminded me of you." - -Ruth was silent. Cyrus went on. "When you first spoke here, a few -minutes ago, your voice affected me in a way--in a way I can't -describe. It seemed to open vistas of memory, as in a fairy tale. And -the instant I realized that we were again together--why--it all came -back with a rush--as of sunshine--like a wave, or a flood of unexpected -happiness--and hope." - -"Oh, Drowsy, what charming nonsense!" - -"Yes--it is nonsense, if that kind of love is nonsense--the kind that -begins in boyhood and never dies--that holds to one woman and will have -no other." - -He felt a hand on his arm. In her voice came a gentler note. "Listen, -Drowsy. My uncle and I are on our way to a train. I am starting for -Italy. When I know my permanent address I will--perhaps--see that you -get it--indirectly, but not from me. Then, without committing either -of us, if you are still as blind, as reckless and perverse as you are -to-night, you can----" - -"Still alive, Ruth?" - -The voice came from the darkness and was close behind them. - -Cyrus was presented as an old friend. He assisted the uncle in pouring -the gasoline into the tank. The uncle was in haste to get away, still -hoping to catch a train. There were a few words of parting before the -motor with its two occupants slid away into the darkness. - -This parting, to Cyrus, seemed even more sudden than the old one, long -years ago. - -For many minutes he stood looking in their direction. The night was -black, and he saw nothing. But in his heart was a rosy dawn. - -Incidentally, but of far less importance, he knew on what portion of -the earth he had landed. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -XII - -"INCREDIBLE!" - - -A prosperous, self-reliant man, well built, well dressed and well -pleased with himself, sat at a desk in his private office. It was the -senior partner of the firm--a well known firm of Fifth Avenue jewelers. -Being a wise man, he was wise enough to enjoy a reasonable pride in -his own wisdom; also in his own pleasing personality, and in his own -good face and figure. Now, sixty years of age, he had, moreover, -enjoyed a quarter century of success--the reward, perhaps, of his own -foresight in being the son of a prosperous father. He had inherited a -well established business. As a leading member of a fashionable church -he was grateful to himself, and to his Creator, for these, his many -blessings. - -Another well-dressed man--but younger than himself--entered abruptly -and stood beside his desk. The Senior Partner looked up from his work, -nodded, and smiled. - -"Good morning, William." - -"Good morning, Uncle Fred." - -William was dapper, even more up-to-date in appearance than his uncle. -Although more carefully attired, he was not so well dressed. For -William's hair was so very smooth, and all that pertained to him so -aggressively fresh and clean, his clothes so faultlessly in fit, his -cravat, his scarf pin, his hair and his eyes such a pleasing harmony -in shade and color as to divert the beholder's attention from his -sensible face. In appearance William was unjust to himself, giving the -impression, to strangers, of a vain or frivolous person. He was, on the -contrary, a very intelligent man. Also, he was good. At the present -moment there were signs of suppressed excitement in this cleanest of -clean faces. - -"Well," said the Senior Partner, "out with it." - -"You remember Cyrus Alton, don't you, Uncle Fred?" - -"No." - -"Well, you met him some years ago. It was he who saved me from breaking -my neck in the amateur circus at school." - -"Oh! And he has regretted it ever since?" - -William smiled. "No, sir. I hope not. But it was a mighty plucky thing -to do. I fell from the trapeze and he was on the ground beneath. When -he saw me coming, instead of jumping from under, like a sensible boy, -he held out his arm to break the fall. It threw his shoulder out of -joint, but saved me a broken neck--so we all thought." - -"Yes, I remember now. It _was_ a plucky thing. It showed courage and -presence of mind. How old was he?" - -"About my age: twelve, I guess, or thirteen." - -"He certainly played the hero on that day. Has he lived up to it?" - -"I don't know. I have hardly seen him since we left school. I always -liked him. We were great cronies--always together." - -"Mighty lucky you were together on that occasion. What's his -occupation, now?" - -"Oh, chemistry and electricity. Science generally, I guess. But I don't -think the world has been treating him well. His clothes are kind of -ancient, and he looks hard up. He lives up in Massachusetts, in some -little town or village. It's a dozen years since I have seen him, until -he came in, a few minutes ago, with a curious kind of stone. He doesn't -know what it is, and wants to find out. Wants us to tell him. It's -beyond me, though. Would you mind seeing him just a minute, and looking -at it?" - -"A stone, did you say?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"What kind of a stone?" - -"That's just what he doesn't know, nor I either." - -"All right, show him in." - -To the hero of the amateur circus came a cordial greeting from the -Senior Partner, who alluded in a most friendly manner to that historic -occasion. But were he not familiar with the story he would have found -difficulty in recognizing the present visitor as the hero of such a -day. For that was a deed requiring--to say nothing of courage--quick -decision, quick action and that perfect confidence in physical strength -which we attribute to the trained athlete. These wide-awake qualities -were not suggested in any degree by the slow moving, sleepy eyed -young man of slender figure to whom Hurry seemed a stranger. This -man was a dreamer. But the Senior Partner had perhaps forgotten that -the brightest pages of human history have been furnished by dreamers -stirred to action. Moreover, it was clearly evident that this young man -and Prosperity were not on friendly terms. And the dark color beneath -his eyes seemed to indicate loss of sleep or nervous strain. Now the -Senior Partner had never been in love with Poverty. He had the same -sort of sympathy for it that Virtue has for Vice; or that Cleanliness -has for Dirt. But he was determined, on William's account, to treat his -old friend with proper consideration. - -After a short conversation, retrospective and educational, the visitor -laid in the hand of the Senior Partner what appeared to be a large -glass door-knob. It was octagonal in shape with a convex top, and was -broken at the stem. The color was a pale, apple green. The Senior -Partner adjusted his glasses and politely examined it. He examined it -with the same tactful consideration he would show to any well meaning -person who believes his imitation pearl a priceless gem. This case, -however, was certainly unusual. The man who could hand you a very large -glass door knob and ask your opinion on it, as an expert in gems, -required special treatment. And when the Senior Partner studied the -visitor's face for some outward indications of the amazing credulity -within, he searched in vain. Instead of the eager eyes and parted lips -of a touch-and-go enthusiast hoping for sudden wealth, he encountered a -firm, though boyish mouth, and two calm, dark, almost drowsy eyes that -met his own with a tranquil sanity, having no relation, apparently, to -their owner's misguided errand. However, the Senior Partner knew from -experience that exteriors were deceptive. - -While hesitating for words that might reveal, in the gentlest manner, -the fact that the object was worthless, his nephew spoke, and in a tone -of eager curiosity. - -"What is it, Uncle Fred? What can it be?" - -"That's hard to say. It is rather large for a door knob, or the stopper -of any human decanter. It might be the pendant of a chandelier." - -"I mean what is it made of? What is the material?" - -"You mean what kind of glass?" - -"Yes, sir; if it--if it _is_ glass." - -"Then you think it is not glass?" - -"That's what we want to find out." - -This uncle was not misled by his nephew's earnestness. He knew William, -and he knew him to be a ready believer in interesting things; one -who could pin his faith on whatever he really wished to believe. And -the uncle had learned that this capacity, combined with a lively -imagination, became a perilous guide in matters of business. However, -he held the object higher, between his eyes and the window. - -"You think it might be rock crystal?" Then, turning to the visitor, -"What is your own opinion, Mr. Alton?" - -"Oh, I have no opinion; only hopes." - -"And what are your hopes?" - -Now Cyrus Alton had easily divined the Senior Partner's thoughts. "Hope -is so inexpensive," he answered, "that I have been indulging in the -brightest kind. But if I am flying too high I can easily come to earth -again. Is it nothing but glass, after all?" - -"Oh, I don't say that." - -But the Senior Partner still marveled that any educated person should -prove so gullible as to be deceived by this object in his hand. He -looked again, and more carefully, at the visitor's face. This time -the boyish mouth seemed to indicate nothing but inexperience. The -heavy lidded eyes, however, calmly returned the searching gaze, as if -they themselves were searching;--yet in a sleepy way, it seemed to -the Senior Partner. And the Senior Partner was strengthened in his -conviction that a man with those eyes and with such a mouth could -believe almost anything. Yet he liked the young man's face. His voice -was pleasant, and his manner of speech, while punctiliously polite and -considerate of others, indicated decision and self-reliance. - -"But, Uncle Fred," said William, "it is so heavy for its size. And it's -cold, like a diamond. And it has that oily feeling on the polished -face. It surely is not an artificial stone." - -"No, possibly not. But the color, this pale, apple green, while an -exquisite tint, is not usual in diamonds." - -"But the famous 'Dresden' is that color, isn't it?" - -"Yes, I believe so; but the famous 'Dresden' is smaller than a paving -stone. This object, as you see, if a natural stone, must have been -nearly twice its present dimensions before cutting. And even now it is -fully twice the size of any diamond of which we have ever heard. You -young gentlemen will admit that it must be the house of an exceedingly -prosperous person where bulky door knobs were composed of single -diamonds." - -Nephew William frowned and drummed with his fingers on the top of the -desk. - -"And I doubt," continued the Senior Partner with his pleasant smile, -"if there are many mines that yield jewels the size of ostrich eggs." - -Cyrus Alton's eyes, in a dreamy way, were fixed upon the stone. -"Couldn't this have come from some other planet?" - -"Possibly, as a meteorite. But precious stones have not the habit of -coming from that direction. However, nothing concerning astronomy can -surprise us. Might I ask where you found it, Mr. Alton?" - -Mr. Alton hesitated. As he drew a hand across his forehead the -Senior Partner and his nephew noticed a hole in the faded and shiny -coat sleeve; also that the linen cuff with its frayed edges had no -fastenings. William's silent guess was correct. "The poor chap has had -to sell his cuff buttons." - -"If you don't mind, sir, I would rather not answer that question just -at present." - -"Certainly. Of course not! Excuse my asking." - -"I am the one to apologize, sir. It is a most natural question, and I -will answer it later." - -"Of course, Mr. Alton, you understand my asking that question. The -answer might give us light that would solve the riddle. If, for -instance, you found it among broken fragments in a glass factory, we -might be prejudiced regarding its ancestry." - -"No. It was many miles from any factory." - -"On the other hand, if unearthed in a diamond mine, or discovered on -the forehead of a Hindoo god it's claim to distinction would be more -clearly defined." - -"Yes, I suppose so. But I thought an expert might judge the value of a -stone without knowing its history." - -"Certainly, certainly. But sometimes a ray of light on a doubtful -subject facilitates a decision. If this majestic door knob, fragment -of a balustrade, pendant to a chandelier, or whatever its original -purpose--if this object is a diamond, Mr. Alton, it means a fortune to -its owner. And I sincerely wish it were a diamond." - -"But you know it isn't?" - -"I don't say that; but no lapidary would ever cut a diamond as this is -cut." Then, with a friendly smile as he handed it back to its owner, -"If William here, or anybody else should offer you real money for -it----" - -"You advise me to take it." - -The Senior Partner smiled and nodded. Cyrus Alton rose. "I thank you -sincerely, sir, for this interview and for your opinion on my bogus -gem." The Senior Partner also rose, and in shaking hands laid his other -hand on the visitor's shoulder. "It may console you, Mr. Alton, to -know that you are not the first person--nor the hundredth, for that -matter--to be undeceived here in this office. The brightest hopes, -especially with would-be pearls and diamonds, often vanish even more -swiftly than they come." - -While the smiling, leisurely mouth of Cyrus was getting ready to reply, -a door opened, and a man entered. It was a short, stout man with fierce -black eyebrows, black eyes and a heavy black beard, all in striking -contrast to the whitest and baldest of heads. - -"Ah, Mr. Bressani!" exclaimed the Senior Partner. "You are just the -man!" After presenting Mr. Bressani to the visitor he said: "Give us -the truth about this stone. What is it?" And he took the stone from -Cyrus and handed it to the new arrival. - -Now Mr. Bressani was more than an expert. His instinct in the matter -of gems was abnormal. It was something more than instinct. It was a -singular, innate sense; one of those unexplained faculties that enables -its possessor to judge offhand, with certainty and precision, where -others must weigh and reason. In important matters he was sought by -jewelers. And there was no recorded case in which he had been deceived. - -Now, as he held the doubtful object in his fat, white fingers, he -suspected from the smile on the face of the Senior Partner that a joke -was in the air. When he saw what was in his hand--apparently a piece -of greenish glass--he raised his heavy black eyebrows, and, with a -sidelong glance, studied the faces of the three men, one after another, -to make sure they were not laughing at him. Nephew William smiled but -shook his head. "No, we are serious. Tell us what you think." - -Still doubtful, Mr. Bressani held it nearer his eye, turned it over -in his large, baby fingers, moved it slowly up and down, evidently -guessing its weight, and slowly passed a thumb over its surface. -Then, as if surprised, he stepped hastily to the window and held it -between his eyes and the light. Wheeling about, his eyebrows darted -up in surprise. These eyebrows, thick and heavy, flew heavenward so -swiftly and they traveled so far that they seemed to pull upon his big -black eyes to twice their usual size and roundness. These astonished -orbs he rolled toward the three men as if startled by a miracle. They -proclaimed a bewildering, overwhelming astonishment that his half-open -lips could not express. - -[Illustration: "BUT WHO EVER SAW SUCH A DIAMOND?"--_Page 199_] - -"Why, it's a diamond!" - -The Senior Partner rose and moved toward him. "Are you sure?" - -But Mr. Bressani did not reply. Lost in wonder, apparently -unconscious of his surroundings, he turned the object over and over, -in every light, and at every angle. "Extraordinary!" he murmured. -"Extraordinary! It doesn't seem possible." - -"But are you sure?" repeated the Senior Partner. - -"Absolutely." - -"But who ever saw such a diamond?" - -"Nobody! Nobody! It's incredible--miraculous--inconceivable. There -never _was_ such a thing!" - -"Just what I have been saying," from the Senior Partner. "Nobody would -ever cut a diamond in that shape. And look at the size of it! And the -color!" - -"Yes, yes! It's hard to believe!" - -"But you _do_ believe it?" - -The bushy eyebrows went up, then down, with a shrug of shoulders. -"Believe it? I know it! What do _you_ think it is, glass?" - -"Well--er--yes, to be honest. I didn't know what else it could be. No -human being ever saw a diamond of those dimensions." - -"We are seeing it now. But whose is it?" - -"It belongs to Mr. Alton." - -"I congratulate you, Mr. Alton. You possess the most amazing diamond in -history or fiction." - -Cyrus bowed. "Then it is the largest you have ever seen?" - -"Twice over. The famous Cullinan stone, the largest yet discovered, was -about half this size." - -"Let's weigh it," said William. - -The expert placed it on the little scales that stood on the top of -the Senior Partner's desk. The three men waited in silence for the -verdict. After a close scrutiny of the scales Mr. Bressani straightened -up, turned toward the three pairs of eyes--all fixed intently on his -own--and exclaimed: - -"Really--it is hard to believe!" - -"How much?" came, in the same breath, from the Senior Partner and his -nephew. - -"Seventy-one hundred carats!" - -The nephew laughed nervously. "Why--there never was such a diamond!" - -The Senior Partner frowned. "Impossible!" - -Mr. Bressani's hand trembled slightly, as he lifted the stone from -the scales and again held it to the light. "Yes--yes--it does seem -impossible!" - -"But nobody ever saw such a diamond!" was again announced by William. - -"Never!" from Mr. Bressani. - -"How much did the Cullinan weigh?" William asked. - -"About three thousand and thirty carats in the rough--about a pound and -three-quarters. It was cut into three large stones and several smaller -ones. Two of these stones are the largest brilliants in existence." - -"But, are you sure, Bressani," said the Senior Partner, "absolutely -sure that it _is_ a diamond?" - -Mr. Bressani smiled, shrugged his shoulders, and with a gesture of both -hands, palms out, replied, slowly: - -"I am not a rich man, but whatever property I possess, and whatever I -can borrow up to a million dollars I would gladly give to Mr. Alton if -I might own this stone." - -Cyrus Alton's eyes opened wider. "A million dollars?" - -"Easily. You see, it will cut to four or five stones of extraordinary -size, and--unless I am much mistaken--of perfect purity. Also, the -color--this lovely, delicate, apple-green tint is almost unknown. The -only diamond of this color in the world, of any importance, is the -famous Dresden Green, one of the crown jewels of Saxony." - -"Is this much larger," inquired Cyrus, "than that Dresden diamond?" - -"Many times larger." - -"And much larger than any of the famous diamonds?" - -"Yes, indeed! Much, much, very much larger. No comparison, in fact. -Why, Mr. Alton, if this were cut to one stone, half its present -size--as a rough guess--it would be over three thousand carats." - -Nephew William gasped. "Three thousand carats! Why, there's nothing -like it! It would be the most famous stone in the world!" - -"No doubt about that," said Mr. Bressani. - -"How much is the Great Mogul?" asked William. - -"Less than two hundred carats." - -"And the Koh-i-noor?" - -"One hundred and eight." - -"And the Star of the South?" - -"About a hundred and twenty-seven carats." - -"Did you ever see the Hope diamond?" - -"Yes; forty-five carats. Almost circular in shape; sold for eighteen -thousand pounds. But it is believed--at least there is a story--that it -brings bad luck to its owners." - -"It is blue, isn't it?" - -"Yes, blue, and a good color, but not so beautiful nor so rare, as -this shade of green. This is a wonder." And as he spoke he turned -the stone in every light. "It's a marvelous thing. Marvelous! Almost -unbelievable!" - -"Can you tell me," said Cyrus, "about how much it is worth?" - -Mr. Bressani shrugged his shoulders: "Anything." - -"You mean," said the Senior Partner, "it would be impossible to guess, -even approximately, at its value?" - -"Yes. For you know the value of diamonds is speculative--depending on -many conditions; size, shape, purity, color--and how they cut. The -Victoria--one hundred and eighty carats--was sold for four hundred -thousand pounds. But diamonds were rarer then. This, when properly cut -into the right number of stones, would bring more than three million -dollars." - -William, in his enthusiasm, slapped his friend on the back. "Well, old -man, you have struck it rich this time." - -The calm-eyed Cyrus smiled and nodded. - -"Then this diamond of mine," he said, "would be ten times bigger than -the Koh-i-noor or any of those other stones?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Isn't there a famous Sancy diamond?" - -"Oh, yes. But that weighed only fifty-three carats. The Sancy diamond -was famous more from its unusual history than from its size." - -"What was its history, Bressani?" said the Senior Partner. "I never -heard it." - -"Well, it belonged to Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, who was -wearing it in his hat at the battle of Nancy, the day he was killed. A -Swiss soldier found it and sold it to a clergyman for a gulden; about -forty cents. Then it came into possession of Anton, King of Portugal, -who sold it for 100,000 Francs. Soon afterwards it became the property -of a French gentleman named Sancy. A descendant of this Sancy was sent -by Henry III as ambassador to Soluere and the King required the diamond -as a pledge. The servant who was carrying it to the King was attacked -by robbers and murdered, but before dying he swallowed the diamond. -His master, knowing his devotion, had the body opened and found the -diamond in his stomach." - -"And where is it now?" asked Cyrus. - -"It was bought by a Russian nobleman in 1835, for half a million -rubles; about four hundred thousand dollars." - -"Jove!" exclaimed William. "Some difference in price between forty -cents and four hundred thousand dollars!" - -"And how much bigger," asked William, "is this than the Sancy?" - -"That weighed fifty-three carats. This, when cut, would weigh about -three thousand." - -"Jove! Sixty times as much! Would it be worth sixty times four hundred -thousand dollars? That would be about twenty-four million dollars." - -Mr. Bressani smiled and shook his head. "Times were different then--and -to-day there are more diamonds." - -"I suppose many of the famous jewels," said William, "if they could -speak, might tell us stories as surprising as the Sancy's." - -Then Cyrus Alton, in a low voice, addressing nobody in particular, -said: "It would be worth the price of this diamond to know its history." - -The Bressani eyebrows went up--high up--and then far down. And beneath -the frown the fierce eyes looked eagerly toward the speaker. "Has it a -remarkable history, Mr. Alton?" - -Cyrus smiled, slowly and somewhat sadly, and gently shook his head. -"I wish I knew. I would almost give the diamond's price to know its -story--much as I need the money." - -"Do you know nothing of its history?" - -"Nothing. I only know that if we could see what that stone has seen -we should enter a new field of knowledge. It would throw light upon a -world of unknown things, earlier than human history." - -In silence the jewelers regarded the speaker, as if waiting for some -explanation of his words. - -Mr. Bressani's eyebrows had shot up to the highest attitude yet -attained. In a low voice, but in a tone that showed the liveliest -curiosity, he asked, "Just what do you mean, Mr. Alton?" - -"I mean the story of this diamond's country would be a story so -overwhelming, so far beyond us, so complete and final in its stupendous -tragedy that our own human drama would seem a trifling comedy." - -These words were spoken in a calm but earnest manner, and they -impressed the listeners. A silence followed. Then Mr. Bressani asked: -"What _is_ this diamond's country?" - -Cyrus hesitated. He knew that if he told the truth it would appear -incredible to his hearers--like a fairy tale for children: that he -would be regarded either as a fool, to be pitied, or as a willful liar. -While he hesitated the Senior Partner came to his rescue. - -"Mr. Alton has already informed us that he has reasons for not telling -where he found it." - -Mr. Bressani's enthusiasm, however,--and his curiosity--were far too -strong for accepting so easy a defeat. "But what part of the world? He -can tell us that." - -"As a matter of fact," said Cyrus, "I don't know, myself, the name of -that particular country." - -Again the bushy Bressani eyebrows sailed aloft, then dropped and -beetled over the fierce black eyes. "You don't know in what country you -were when you found it--or bought it?" - -"I am not sure that it has a name." - -"A most unusual country!" - -"Yes, it certainly is;--most unusual." - -Nephew William laughed. "And it must be a long way off, Cyrus." - -"It is." - -"And pretty small, if it has no name." - -"No, not so small. But its name was long ago forgotten. There are no -survivors to remember it." - -"But you can tell us," said Mr. Bressani, "whether it is North of here, -or East, or West, or South." - -"Why--er--really, I couldn't tell you even that. Nobody could." - -"Perhaps it's beneath us, or above"; and in the Senior Partner's tone -was a suggestion of irony. - -Cyrus ignored the tone and answered pleasantly: "I am not trying to -deceive, or to mislead you in any way, but it really is a journey in -which points of the compass are no guides whatever." - -On the faces of the three jewelers came three involuntary frowns. - -[Illustration: "A MOST UNUSUAL COUNTRY!"--_Page 206_] - -"You are certainly having fun with us, Cyrus," said William. - -"No, not at all. But, you see, a compass would be useless where there -is no such thing as North and South." - -"No such thing as North and South!" - -"No. Nor East and West. The needle would lose its bearings. It wouldn't -know where to point." - -"Oh, come now! Is that a joke? Are we to laugh at it?" - -Cyrus smiled. "I should not blame you for laughing--but it is not a -joke. I am telling the truth." - -"You mean to say, I suppose, that you had such bad weather--electrical -storms, perhaps,--that the needle couldn't work." - -"No, there was no weather at all." - -"You mean no bad weather?" - -"Nor good weather, either." - -With some impatience William demanded: "Now just what do you mean, -Cyrus?" - -"I mean, that in going and coming, there was no such thing as wind -nor rain, nor sunshine. It was all twilight--a dusk that was almost -darkness. It was a trackless, uncharted voyage. And not a shore to -touch at." - -"Then you crossed an ocean? It was all by sea?" - -"No. There was no sea--no water anywhere." - -This time William made no effort to hide his annoyance. He merely -whistled, and walked away, toward the window. - -"I don't blame you, Billy, for being enraged," and Cyrus also stood up. -"But on my honor, I am telling you the truth. And I am willing to tell -you anything except the exact location. Later on you will understand my -reasons for being so secretive." - -"Perhaps you can tell us," said Mr. Bressani, "in what surroundings you -found it: whether under ground or above." - -"Above. Just lying on the ground." - -"My own guess," said William, "from its being already cut, is that some -oriental chap either gave it to you or sold it." - -"No, I found it, entirely by accident--among some ruins." - -Mr. Bressani's eyebrows again went up. "Ruins of what?" - -"Of an ancient building--a very, very ancient building." - -"But covered with earth, I suppose, and overgrown with vines." - -"No. Not a trace of vegetation anywhere in sight." - -"It must be a melancholy place." - -"It is." - -"But once a city?" - -"I think so." - -"The ruins of Palmyra!" exclaimed Mr. Bressani. "They are now a sandy -waste." - -"No; many thousands of miles from Palmyra." - -"Many thousands of miles! That means a long distance." - -[Illustration: "BUT ONCE A CITY?"--_Page 208_] - -"It _is_ a long distance." - -"Then it can't be any part of Asia, or even India?" - -"No, sir." - -"Africa, perhaps?" - -"No." - -"A South American diamond?" - -"No." - -As Mr. Bressani's ferocious, black eyebrows settled down over his eyes -the Senior Partner laughed. "This reminds me of the game of twenty -questions. And you are surely the victor, Mr. Alton." - -But Mr. Bressani was too much in earnest to think of jokes or games. -"You say these ruins are very old?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"How old? Greek or Roman, perhaps?" - -"Older than human history." - -[Illustration: "OLDER THAN HUMAN HISTORY"--_Page 209_] - -Again the three listeners frowned. With a shade of sarcasm the Senior -Partner addressed his nephew: "Mr. Alton has a poet's fancy." - -Cyrus understood, but his face showed no annoyance. Smilingly he said, -"You will get more digestible answers, perhaps, if you don't ask me -where I found it. The whole adventure is incredible. If I told you the -truth you would not believe me." - -"Try us," said William. - -The Senior Partner waved his hand in apology. "Please don't think we -doubt your word, Mr. Alton. But when you say older than human history -you are speaking figuratively, as it were." - -"No, sir. I am speaking literally. It is the belief of scientists -that millions of years have passed since any changes have occurred in -that--in that--territory." - -"Millions of years!" - -"Yes, sir. It is somewhat a matter of geology. And a geological period, -you know, is still young at a million years." - -The Senior Partner nodded politely. "Yes--very true. But, as diamonds -are found in so few places perhaps you will tell us, just to gratify -a natural curiosity, what kind of a region you have discovered--the -general nature of the country." - -"The nature of the country?" Cyrus Alton repeated. Then, lowering his -eyes, as if better to recall the scene, he hesitated for a moment. -"The nature of the country," he again repeated, and his manner became -serious. "No tree, nor bush, nor blade of grass is there; no living -thing of any kind: no birds--nor air to fly in;--not a drop of water. -The surface of the earth--no, not earth for there is no earth--is -stone--and ashes. 'Tis a cinder--the mummy of a world: an unending -necropolis. Once it was thickly populated. Now it is the Land of Death, -and deader than Death itself. Not even a memory is there, for those who -might remember have been dead uncounted ages. They themselves are long -since forgotten." - -On the faces of his little audience Cyrus saw a mild bewilderment--and -curiosity. - -"You say we have all heard of this country?" asked the Senior Partner. - -"Yes, and you have seen it--from a distance." - -"Are you sure," said William, "that we have all seen it?" - -"Yes, absolutely sure." - -"And we have probably been there?" - -"No--I think not." - -"Then, how could we see it?--from a railway train--or from a steamship?" - -Cyrus smiled. "Yes, you could see it that way--if you wished." - -"But how do you know we have never been there?" - -"I don't." - -"You only think it." - -"Yes, I only think it. You may have been there. I am quite sure, -however, that you have not." - -"But why so sure, Cyrus? You have been there yourself." - -"Yes." - -"And what man has done man can do." - -"Yes, sometimes, but not always, Billy. Only one man has eaten, for -instance, a certain huckleberry. And, as a rule, only one man marries -his own particular girl. You, for instance, have seen the top of -Trinity spire, but you have never been there." - -"You may as well say I have seen the moon, but never been there." - -Cyrus laughed, quite a hearty little laugh, as if thoroughly amused. -"Well I do say it. And it's true, isn't it?" - -"Yes, but it has no relation to the argument." - -"Why not? I am merely proving my statement, that you have seen -interesting places which you have never visited. Either Trinity spire -or the moon might hold this diamond." - -"But Trinity spire does not fit your description of the country." - -Again Cyrus seemed amused. "But the moon fits it." - -William laughed. "Well, Cyrus, you are just the same boy in an argument -that you were at school. And how mad I used to get! But this mysterious -land that you are concealing so successfully, the land we have all -seen but never touched--or even heard about, apparently--must be a -God-forsaken district. Is it a desert--like Sahara, for instance?" - -"No, quite different. This is rock, with plains of lava from volcanic -mountains and everywhere, in all directions, dust and ashes: the dried -bones of its own past--whatever it was. The whole surface of the -country seems upheaved and torn, all on a gigantic scale, as if it was -baked too much, then split and sundered in the cooling. A fantastic, -solemn region." - -"Well, by Jove!" said William, at last, "I still maintain that I have -never seen the place--nor anything like it." - -"I said from a distance." - -"Must have been a mighty long distance." - -[Illustration: "----THE DRIED BONES OF ITS OWN PAST, WHATEVER IT -WAS"--_Page 212_] - -"It was." - -"And a mighty unusual country!" - -"It is. Scattered about are high mountains, once volcanoes. And in the -craters of these old volcanoes some of them many miles across, I saw -the ruins of cities. There must be hundreds of these mountains, and -hundreds of ruined cities." - -"Then you traveled over the whole country." - -"No, indeed! But I looked down on it as I approached, and could take in -a vast area." - -William straightened up, and his eyes opened wider. "Oho! Then you went -there in an air-ship!" - -Cyrus nodded. - -"That accounts for no water on the voyage, and all that other stuff you -gave us." - -Again Cyrus nodded. And, with a broad smile of amusement: "It might -also account for Trinity spire and the moon." - -But his audience was too much in earnest to be thwarted by jokes. "Yes, -yes!" said Mr. Bressani. "That explains much that you have said. Please -continue." - -William, however, with a frown, leaned back against the desk. "Cyrus, I -still believe you are lying to us." - -"No, truly I am not. I don't pretend to give you the whole truth, but -what I do tell you is the truth and nothing else." - -"Go on, Mr. Alton," said the Senior Partner. "We interrupted you. It -certainly is an amazing country." - -Cyrus continued. "The whole country is cracked and broken with chasms. -From one volcano canons radiate in all directions. They are miles -in width, and they seem bottomless. And even in these canons, on -projecting ledges, are the ruins of cities." - -"But why should they build their cities in those sunless chasms?" - -[Illustration: "BUT WHY BUILD THEIR CITIES IN THOSE SUNLESS -CHASMS?"--_Page 214_] - -"My belief is that the moisture evaporated, then the surface of all -that country became so unbearably hot--with no atmosphere as protection -from the sun's rays--that the inhabitants were driven to the canons." - -"What a life! No wonder they all died!" - -"That portion of the universe," said Cyrus, "is the desolation of -desolation, the tragedy of tragedies. It is a world of ashes. And -over everything an awful silence, a silence that frightens you. The -stillness of death, compared to it, is a merry waltz." - -[Illustration: "AND OVER EVERYTHING AN AWFUL SILENCE"--_Page 214_] - -[Illustration: "----A WORLD OF DUST AND ASHES"--_Page 214_] - -"How did you happen to find this country?" - -"I had heard of it. You all know about it in a general way, as I have -already said. But I tried to get there and happened to succeed." - -William shook his head. "Sorry to contradict you, Cyrus, but I never -heard of such a place." - -Cyrus laughed. "Oh, yes, you have! Excuse me, but you have all read -about it, and seen many pictures of it." - -Mr. Bressani took up the diamond. As he caressed the glistening marvel -he asked: "Do other people know of these ruins?" - -"I think not." - -"You have never heard of any one else who has been there?" - -"Never." - -"Is the district difficult to reach?" - -"Very--almost impossible. In fact the trip is so long and risky that -you need have no fear of other explorers. I tell you this merely that -you may know the chances are small of the market being flooded with -diamonds--at least from that quarter. Nobody else will try it. You may -be sure of that. The diamonds are there, however, and plenty of them." - -[Illustration: "THE DIAMONDS ARE THERE, AND PLENTY OF THEM"--_Page -215_] - -"Plenty of them!" - -"Plenty--by the cart-load." - -William whistled. And the two older men whistled--in spirit--and raised -their eyebrows. With the Bressani eyebrows still in the air their owner -inquired: "You say this was lying on the top of the ground?" - -"Yes; among other fragments." - -"Fragments of what?" - -For a moment the visitor closed his eyes. "That is hard to answer. -I was there at dusk. The light was peculiar, and uncertain--and -changing. I should say there were fragments of cups and vases, of -carved capitals, scraps of metal that might be architectural ornaments, -all mingled with blocks of some white material, perhaps marble, or -alabaster. And all finely carved." - -"These things were scattered about the ground?" - -"Scattered about, but not literally on the ground. Many were lying on a -pavement of different colored stones--the floor of a building I should -say. The outer walls and several columns were still standing." - -"It might have been a palace, a temple, a forum,--almost anything of -size and importance." - -"You know nothing of the history of those people, of their manners and -customs?" - -"Nothing, whatever." - -"Where could I find out? That is, of course, if we had your permission." - -"Nowhere. Nobody knows. It is all forgotten--long ago forgotten--with -no records, no memories--not even a tradition." - -There was a silence. Cyrus knew that his hearers were having more -or less difficulty in digesting his statements. However, he smiled -pleasantly, as he said: "My sympathies are with you, gentlemen, and my -thanks for your courteous reception of my absurd story. But there is -one thing I do know about these people. Although their buildings were -often as high as ours, I know their legs were shorter. All their stone -steps, in every case, had risers about half the size of ours." - -"Ah! Then they were a race of pigmies." - -"I should think so, and with long arms and very short legs. They were -evidently strong on sculpture, as there are fragments of statues, -heads, bas reliefs, monuments, etc., all scattered about. And the -people represented are very much like ourselves, in some ways." - -[Illustration: "WITH LONG ARMS AND VERY SHORT LEGS"--_Page 216_] - -"You say you were there at dusk. Why didn't you see it by day light?" - -"Well, the--er--climate is peculiar. The air, if you can call it air, -is so very rarefied as to be no protection whatever against the heat of -the sun. And the surface of the ground, by daylight, would burn your -feet. And by night, there being no atmosphere twixt you and space, the -temperature is about 300 degrees below zero." - -"Three hundred degrees!" - -Cyrus smiled and nodded. "That's what the scientists say. I had no -thermometer with me." - -"But no human being could live in such a temperature!" - -"That is why I stuck to the twilight. And I suspect that is why the -cities were built in the canons." - -"Why, of course! That explains it. I was wondering what on earth could -induce anybody to want to live in those God-forsaken chasms." - -Mr. Bressani, however, had a deeper interest in abnormal gems than -in climatic conditions. "Did you find this piece all alone, by -itself,--apart from others?" - -"No; other pieces were near it." - -"But not so large as this." - -"Oh, yes! Some were much larger." - -Mr. Bressani frowned. "Larger than this?" - -"Yes, much larger." - -"But not diamonds--not this same material?" - -"I suppose they were. They looked just like it." - -"Then why didn't you bring a larger piece? It would be a fabulous -fortune, in itself." - -Cyrus seemed uncertain as to his answer. "Well--there were--many -reasons. One was that I did not know they were diamonds. Another was -that I needed both hands for other purposes and could not carry--just -at that moment--anything too large to go in my pocket. In fact I tried -to pick up a beautifully carved fragment nearly the size of a football, -but I had to drop it for this smaller one." - -The three jewelers regarded him with eager faces, as children listen to -a fairy tale. Mr. Bressani in a low, somewhat awe stricken tone, said: - -"And there is really much of it?" - -"Lots of it." - -"But, of course, you are not absolutely sure it is the same material?" - -"Well--I saw the other part of the one in your hand lying beside it, -and it was four or five times the size of this one." - -The three men turned to each other, as if to discover the effect, on -other human beings, of such a statement. - -The Senior Partner leaned forward, each hand grasping an arm of his -chair. The Bressani eyebrows shot aloft, and he came a step nearer. -Nephew William adjusted his lips for a whistle, but changed his mind. -No sound came forth. - -It was the Senior Partner who was the first to find himself, and -return to business. Leaning back in his chair he cleared his throat. -"Mr. Alton, if you were not an old friend of William's, and if I -knew nothing about you, I should say that Munchausen, by comparison, -was a clumsy beginner. But your own reputation and that stone in Mr. -Bressani's hand, are proofs to the contrary--the best of proofs. Now -let us get to business. Is it your wish to sell this diamond to us?" - -"Yes, sir. That's why I came here. And I would prefer dealing with your -house, if you care to bother with it." - -The Senior Partner smiled. "It would be an unenterprising jeweler who -declined to bother with what will soon become the most famous diamond -of history--ancient or modern. If agreeable to you, Mr. Alton, you can -leave the stone with us, and we will give you, now, a receipt for an -uncut diamond of seventy-one hundred carats, value unknown. A few days -hence, at your convenience, we will submit for your consideration a -plan by which you shall receive a certain amount at once in cash, the -balance to be governed by the final value of the stones as they are cut -or sold. Would that be satisfactory to you?" - -"Perfectly." - -"And perhaps you will agree to give us the preference if you decide -later to flood the market with diamonds the size of paving stones." - -Cyrus smiled. "Yes, sir, I shall be glad to do so." - -A few moments later, the receipt in his pocket, Cyrus left the private -office, escorted by William. At the street door, as the young jeweler, -at parting, shook hands with his friend, he said: "And, by the way, old -man, when you can divulge the awful secret of where you found it don't -waste a second in telling us." - -"If there is a humorous side to this morning's interview, Billy, it is -in the name of that very place." - -"What do you mean?" - -"I mean I mentioned the name, and more than once." - -"Stuff!" - -"On my honor." - -"What was it?" - -"Oh, that's too easy! Good-by." - -And he left William standing in the doorway,--still guessing. - -Alone together, the unparalleled, incredible wonder on the desk before -them, the Senior Partner and Mr. Bressani remained silent for a time, -as if recovering from a dream. For the twentieth time that morning, Mr. -Bressani murmured: "It seems impossible!" Then, after another silence: -"But where did he get it? Has he been to the very center of the earth?" - -"Or," said the Senior Partner, with a shrug, "to the mountains of the -moon." - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -XIII - -A MESSAGE - - -To be lifted, suddenly, from poverty to wealth, is delightful. -Especially delightful when preceded by a preliminary course of -self-denial. For Cyrus and his father there was now an end, at last, to -the orthodox but discordant partnership between Pride and Want. - -Vaulting ambition has its uses. So have rags and hunger. And there are -times, as in the case of Cyrus, when they pull together. But now had -come the harvest. And the prosperity was real: the checks from the -Senior Partner were not a dream. - -"No more cheap food and shiny clothes for us," said Cyrus to his -father. "Me for gluttony; canvas backs three times a day; Burgundy and -dollar cigars. And brand new raiment every morning!" - -Dr. Alton nodded. "Yes, that's a good program. A change, even from bad -to worse, is often beneficial. Had you been brought up on canvas backs -and Burgundy, you might have yearned for water and dried apples." - -One of the first things Cyrus did was to visit Mrs. Eagan. The great -desire of her life had been to revisit Ireland, but she never could -save enough money. She had tried in vain to sell her little cottage -with its two acres of land. Now came a purchaser. For the acre farthest -from the house, for which there never had been a bid, Cyrus paid her -three thousand dollars. And the happy Mrs. Eagan went to Ireland. He -did other things, equally unbusinesslike. Some for his old friends; -some for the town itself. - -As for the Great Discovery both Cyrus and his father were of one -opinion--that it never must be made public: that the secret must die. -One of many reasons was, that with such a power in irresponsible hands -no man's property, and no man himself, would be secure. What safety -for a law abiding citizen when any criminal could purchase for a few -dollars and carry in his hand, or pocket, a weapon of unlimited energy -and force? The burglar or the highwayman could either escape at will or -send his victim into farthest space. - -He had various kinds of fun with his money. But he was no fool with it. -He had been too intimate with debt, half-rations and shabby raiment to -renew, voluntarily, the old acquaintance. But the greatest satisfaction -of all was the prospect of bringing a long deferred pleasure to his -father. Dr. Alton had spoken in years gone by of a trip to Europe. And -now he could have it. Moreover, this trip abroad, according to Cyrus, -was to be such a new departure in activity and leisure, in wisdom and -extravagance, as to startle Europe. - -"We'll make Croesus look like thirty cents--and Lucullus a skinflint." - -But Fate, brainless Fate, whose rewards and punishments seem random -shots, stepped in between. And the blow that came to Cyrus was the -hardest in his life. - -To the people of Longfields there was mystery in certain periods of Dr. -Alton's past. Those seven years abroad were secret history. The little -son and his unknown mother had invited explanation. But explanations -were not offered. Moreover, it was soon realized by his neighbors that -Dr. Alton's private affairs were his own, and were not for publication. -But people had surely a right to wonder why a physician with his -exceptional education and opportunities should give so little thought -to distinction in larger fields and prefer obscurity in a forgotten -little village. - -Miss Anita Clement and some other women believed that this handsome -young doctor had been the victim of a blighting passion; that his -heart, if not broken, had received a wound that never healed. But all -that was speculative. - -Of some things, however, they were sure. One was that his gentle -manner, his never failing help and kindness to poor and prosperous -alike, had resulted in a sincere affection for him, not only in -Longfields itself but in the neighboring villages. To every member of -the little community in which he lived and worked for nearly thirty -years his death was a personal loss. - -To Cyrus, this sudden, unexpected ending was a blow that stunned. -Many days were to pass before he fully realized how irreparable was -his loss. That his father's death should come when it did made sorrow -doubly keen. Of what good this sudden wealth when his best friend, -after these years of economy and self sacrifice, was not here to enjoy -it? And that trip abroad together--only a month away! - -Cyrus had this consolation, however, that the end was free from -suffering. - -An hour before his death--in a sunny November afternoon--his father was -reclining comfortably in his easy chair when he told Cyrus where to -find a package of letters in the further corner of a certain drawer in -his desk. Cyrus brought them. Then he sat by his father's side and, as -the letters, after being read, were handed him, one by one, he dropped -them into the fire. Some were limp and worn from many readings. With -them was a photograph of a woman's face. After a moment's hesitation -Dr. Alton handed it to his son. - -"That's your mother, Cyrus." - -With unspeakable emotion the son gazed upon this face. Her eyes looked -straight into his own. They were deep, dark, tragic--yet smiling. It -seemed to Cyrus that he had always known this face--and loved it. He -gazed in silence, overcome by feelings quite different from anything he -had heretofore experienced. His father's voice recalled him to himself. -The voice was becoming weaker. - -"Destroy this picture, Cyrus. If you ever meet her keep your knowledge -to yourself. Let her be the first--to greet you." - -So low was his voice that Cyrus bent forward to get his words. - -"Remember, always remember, she is a good woman." - -Dr. Alton leaned back and closed his eyes. - -A faint smile came to his lips. He whispered a name-- - -"Francesca." - -His thoughts wandered. In spirit he was far from Longfields. Below him -gleamed the Adriatic, azure blue. The breath of spring came gently to -his cheeks. Before him, and very near, is a woman's face, radiant with -beauty and with love, and with unfailing devotion. Her eyes looking -deep into his own, searching his innermost thoughts. There are none to -hide, for all are hers. - -The smile still upon his lips he murmured in French--his voice fainter -with each succeeding word--a message. - -And the last word, "Francesca," was scarcely a breath. - -Cyrus knew that another spirit had joined the countless host: that -into these final words a faithful lover had breathed his soul. - - * * * * * - -At that sunny hour of the afternoon, in Longfields, night had fallen -in the city of Milan. The great opera house was crowded. To lovers of -music the farewell appearance of the Diva was a memorable occasion. -It was also cause for surprise, but physicians had given warning of a -certain weakness about the heart. Besides, it may have been that after -thirty years of triumph--though apparently as young as ever--there had -come a surfeit of glory; a yearning for the tranquil life; for days and -nights of less effort and less excitement. - -So, still beautiful, erect as ever, and looking to perfection the -heroine, with the fresh, full voice of girlhood that charmed the world, -she was singing to-night before an audience, or rather, a host of -friends, that filled the great building from the floor to the topmost -seats. Both the glorious voice and the Diva herself seemed unchanged. -To-night she was still the envy of other singers. And to-night, as -usual, she thrilled an enchanted audience. - -Near the end of the second act came a surprise. Then it was that the -great singer seemed conquered by some strange emotion--some mysterious -agency that hushed her voice and enslaved her spirit. And to that -audience it always remained a mystery. - -Softly, from the orchestra, rose the accompaniment to the aria--the -divine aria--flooding the house with its melody. The Diva, with lips -parting for the opening notes, was moving slowly toward the front of -the stage. Then, instead of the voice for which the hundreds of eager -listeners were waiting, they saw her stop, and stand in silence. With -eyes closed, and face upturned, transfigured--as angels' faces are -transfigured--she stood, unconscious of the world about her. Vainly -the audience waited. Vainly the conductor waved his baton, as his -orchestra, with every bar, was leaving the Diva still further behind. - -But the Diva was far away. She heard him not. She heard nothing save -the thing unheard by others. The orchestra and its leader, the opera -house and the people in it, all had vanished--all had vanished as -completely from her thoughts as from her sight. The very music itself -helped the spirit's flight--to bear it aloft, to transport her far--oh -far indeed!--from where she stood. - -[Illustration: "But the Diva was far away. She heard nothing save the -thing unheard by others."] - -As a dying zephyr mingles with the fragrance of the flowers, so with -the harmony of the music came, from over seas, a lover's message. Her -name--Francesca--interwoven with the melody, came gently to her senses. -She knew from whom. And she alone knew what memories it revived, -crowding upon her through the music; precious memories of the only -passion of her life; of the one being to whom she had given her heart, -her self, her very soul--and for all time. Now, once again, they were -meeting. It came, the message, not in words--merely the breath of a -dying lover. It brought this truth, that all joy of living had ended at -their parting--nearly thirty years ago. Not a moment in those years had -his devotion wavered, a devotion greater and more real than all else in -life, beyond and far above the reach of death. Now, on the borders of -that other world where loyal hearts shall know no parting--there she -would find him waiting. Again her name--Francesca--fading away into the -melody of the aria. - -The Diva lowered her face, pressed a hand against her temples and -swayed as if to fall. But her recovery was sudden. She smiled toward -the sea of anxious faces and nodded to the conductor, who started his -orchestra afresh. Then she sang the aria as never before. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -XIV - -OVER SEAS - - -There was music in Cyrus. As a boy, however, he could never get it out. -With no voice for singing his main relief was in whistling and humming -and in drumming with his fingers. Which, of course, made him more -or less of a nuisance at times. When he grew up his voice improved. -Not enough to outshine the nightingales, but it served for domestic -purposes. At church, for instance, he joined the congregation in the -hymns. His voice, in speaking, was low, with a pleasant quality, and -was more than satisfactory for ordinary human intercourse. But as a -musical instrument it aroused no enthusiasm. His father had said, on -one occasion: "The louder you sing, Cyrus, the less noise you make." - -But music had always moved him, and in a singular way; much as many -others are affected, perhaps, but more profoundly. It touched strange -chords, deep within him. It inspired him, and seemed to bring a keener -edge to his capacity for pain or pleasure; lifting him, at times, far -away from himself, to a world where other people are not too real; -where beauty and virtue, power, glory and justice are at one's own -command. Music brought these things to Cyrus--also other things for -which a young man's soul is thirsting. - -One evening in May there was a service in the church in which the -congregation--Cyrus included--had joined in the singing. After the -service he walked home alone. As he entered his own grounds the -music of the last hymn echoed in his brain. Still humming it, he -stopped and looked up at the stars. The solemn stillness of the night -brought memories of his father. And as he stood there, gazing at -the stars, he felt in the night air itself an unfamiliar element; -something that awakened within him emotions unrelated to his outward -senses. There was no moon, but from countless stars came flickering -beams--faint greetings from other worlds. He seemed alone in the Great -Silence--alone in the universe itself; in closer communion with hidden -things. From out the darkness, mingling with the silence, yet almost -silence itself, there came to him a breath--a murmur. It was not the -evening breeze among the branches of the maples. It was the gentlest -music, but not the echoes in his brain of the evening hymn. No--it -came from far away. It seemed personal--directed to himself. For a -time he stood without moving, every faculty alert. Not with his ears -did he listen, but with a deeper sense, as of one spirit striving for -communion with another. At last the music, the voice, the indefinable -melody died away, gently, into the silence of the night. - -Patiently he waited. Then, after a time, when nothing came, he opened -his eyes and lowered his face. In the continued silence about him he -began to suspect that his own brain might have been deceiving him; that -the message was from his own imagination. And was it a message? It had -told him nothing. So far as he could divine it was a call--a prayer, -but clearly to himself. Still wondering, he entered the house, did his -customary little chores, then went upstairs to bed. - -For a time he lay awake, thinking, but once asleep his sleep was sound. -From this sleep, however, he was awakened by what seemed a whispered -voice within the room. He sat up in his bed, and spoke. - -"Who is it?" - -Then came--as before, when he was standing beneath the stars--the -almost inaudible, far-away echo of a song. He listened, with every -sense alert. And, as before, it seemed addressed distinctly to -himself--an appeal to come. But where? So real was the entreaty that -he obeyed an impulse, arose from his bed and prepared to dress. As he -stood at his eastern window a few moments later, he heard again--or -thought he heard--the alluring voice. - -A faint, cool light at the horizon was creeping slowly upward, along -the edges of the earth. - -Yes, it came from off there. And he would follow it. Why not? His -father was gone. What held him in Longfields--or anywhere else? -Moreover, he had power to travel as was not given to other men. -Besides, it pleased him to believe in this need for himself, this call -to danger, death or sacrifice--or whatever it might be. To him it had -become a prayer from one soul to another. And he felt that he and the -other soul were not strangers. - -So, an hour later, Cyrus in his machine rose high above the earth and -steered his course toward the spreading light in the East. Now it was a -warmer tint, and growing rosier as it spread. - -Guided only by the rising sun and by some subtle sense which he did -not pretend to define, he sailed--or darted--over the waste of water -between Cape Cod and Portugal. Far below him, on this deep blue ocean, -specks were moving. Some were white; others darker, shedding smoke. But -all moved so slowly, compared with himself, that they seemed at anchor. -For, with him, any speed was possible and unfailing. - -This was his first trip by daylight across the Atlantic. When out of -sight of land, with the level, dark blue line of the horizon on every -side, he began to have the same sensation as when flying through space; -a sensation of aimless wandering. Also, there being no land marks, -nothing by which to measure progress, he found his only way of gauging -speed was by the amount of electric power he applied to his machine. -He had, of course, the sun to go by: and he knew the difference in -time between Boston and Lisbon was about four hours. Six hours he had -allowed for reaching Europe but he was startled by the rapidity with -which the morning sun was sliding westward across the heavens. It -helped him to guess at his velocity when he found the morning sun had -become, somewhat suddenly, an afternoon sun, and was well behind him. -Across the ocean he shot his machine, more like a cannon ball than a -passenger craft. Over the first piece of land--which must be Spain--he -hovered a few minutes for a hasty lunch; also for a supply of fresh -air. His oxygen cylinder was so large and with such enormous pressure -to the square foot that with the attendant apparatus for supplying -breathable air it could keep him alive for several days. But now he -took good long breaths of the outer air as a matter of both economy and -luxury. - -Then along the Northern end of the Mediterranean, still guided by Faith -alone for the spot whence came the summons. - -Now Cyrus, in his knowledge of geography, was about like the rest of -us. He had learned it, but details were not fresh in his mind. The two -great islands off to his right he guessed were Corsica and Sardinia. -Over Northern Italy he sped, where local showers were hiding, for -a time, the land beneath. One city on the western coast, with its -countless canals, was unmistakably Venice. On he sped across the -upper end of the Adriatic--the narrow part. Here, as he approached -the eastern shore, guidance forsook him. He slowed his machine, then -stopped. Thus far his intuition, whether right or wrong, had led him -without wavering. Now, and suddenly, all guidance ceased--his intuition -vanished. A sudden need, he felt, for knowledge he did not possess. -A sense of helplessness came upon him, intensified, perhaps, by the -reaction from his previous confidence. In fear of straying from his -course he decided to alight. If fortune favored him the voice might -come again, and he could start afresh. So he descended, slowly, toward -the summit of a towering hill whose western sides were steep and -thickly wooded. - -He landed in a cypress grove, beside a garden. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -XV - -A GARDEN OF WONDERS - - -When Cyrus stepped out of his machine he stood for a moment unsteady on -his legs; a usual condition in a sudden change of air after hours of -bewildering speed. - -So far as he could judge he was in the grounds of an institution of -some kind--a monastery, a college, a convent, or possibly a summer -palace. Along the side of the garden overlooking the sea, which lay -far below, ran a wall. On this wall at regular spaces stood statues -of ecclesiastical persons, presumably Saints. They stood back to the -sea, facing the garden. In the garden a fountain played. Off beyond -the garden he saw long, white buildings, and a chapel. But what most -impressed him was the beauty of a line of cloisters, their many arches -of white marble, softened by age, now all aglow in the light of the -western sun. But his wandering, enchanted eyes fell upon another sight, -different in character, yet fully as interesting. But in a different -way. So interesting that he forgot, for a moment, the garden, the -fountain, the cloisters and the Saints. The sight that gently stirred -him was the figure of a girl; a graceful figure that seemed a fitting -climax to this garden in fairy land. She was leaning against the -parapet, her face toward the sun, now sinking in the West. She seemed -in deepest meditation. Her dress, a light gray, with white bands at -the neck and shoulders, suggested a religious order. So he decided -that his guess at having landed in a convent might be correct. He was -not familiar with convents. The inmates, so far as he knew, might -be a mingling of religious fanatics and female criminals partially -reformed. He felt sure, however, up to the present moment, that they -were wide and square in build, plain of face and haters of men. Hence -his surprise at the alluring, girlish figure now before him. Perhaps -this one was in here by mistake. Or, she might be some lovely victim -of disappointed love. May be a human angel brutally treated by cruel -relatives. Perhaps a marriageable princess escaping a distasteful -alliance. But these were merely guesses. She was standing not far away, -and was partly hidden from the convent buildings by the trunks of the -ancient cypresses. - -Cyrus approached this damsel. He saw that she was short, and slight of -figure, distinctly _petite_, and so absorbed in her own thoughts that -she failed to hear his footsteps on the gravel walk. - -He coughed. It seemed a safe if not original manner of announcing -his presence. The girl turned and faced him. She was startled; and -a hand went swiftly to her lips as if to suppress an exclamation. A -short moment they stood regarding each other, a dozen feet apart, the -light full in the face of the intruder, while the girl's was partly -in shadow. For the descending sun was almost directly behind her. So -earnestly she studied him that he became embarrassed. Her own surprise -was so great that her lips parted, then closed again, as if her voice -were lost in astonishment. She took a backward step and laid a hand -on the parapet as if for support. As for Cyrus, this little person -was easily the most entrancing vision of his experience. Slight, -erect, with a dainty head and glorious eyes, she seemed a perfect and -harmonious element with the radiant splendors in the West. Such eyes -he had not beheld since he lived beneath the spell of the celestial -windows of Ruth Heywood's soul. These present eyes, now opened wide in -wonder, were trying to grapple with his presence, as with some visitors -from another planet. - -Cyrus bowed; his very best, most elaborate and ceremonious inclination. -And Cyrus's bows were works of art. - -Had he been attired in court costume, and swept the earth with a -chapeau of ostrich plumes instead of a checkered golf cap, he would -have eclipsed the Grand Monarque in his own field. It was, of course, -the same old salutation that had startled Longfields years ago. - -Then he advanced a step. "Do you happen to speak English, madam?" - -The girl hesitated a moment, then nodded. - -Cyrus, delighted at the unexpected answer, took another step -nearer--perhaps two or three. Joy was written in his face. His manner -became, unconsciously, almost familiar. - -"How fortunate! I am a stranger here. Can you tell me what place this -is?" - -As he moved nearer the parapet the girl had turned toward him until her -face was more in the sunlight. In his own face admiration was clearly -written. The girl lowered her eyes. But she made no answer. - -He spoke again. "This certainly is not a hospital, is it?" - -She moved her head, gently, in the negative. - -"Is it the palace, or villa, of some King, or Prince or Duke--or -something?" - -Again the silent answer in the negative. - -A chilling thought came to the traveler. Could this be a deaf and dumb -asylum? - -Now Cyrus had been "going on his nerves" for some hours and they might -be more sensitive than usual. The last distressful thought showed -plainly in his face. His heart began to bleed for this afflicted -angel. And so pretty! So superlatively charming and desirable! As she -raised the wondrous eyes and again regarded him his one ambition, at -the moment, was to avoid appearing too imbecile and clownish. And lo, -he was both! Never had he felt so helpless. If he knew at least the -sign language there might be hope for progress. Even in that field of -expression all he could recall were the doings in the pantomimes: to -shut the eyes and incline your head upon your hand for sleep; to wabble -your jaw for terror, and to lick your lips and rub your stomach with a -rotary motion when you wanted food. But this was no moment for comic -things, when his own heart and the very air he breathed were all a -quiver with high adventure, with Beauty and Romance. So he stood before -her in a painful, and--it seemed to him--a foolish silence. He looked -down, then away, then at her, and as his drowsy eyes rested on her face -he thought he detected an effort to suppress a smile. This doubled -his embarrassment. He tried vainly to discover in what manner his -question was mirth provoking. However, he made a brave effort to assert -himself--to appear as if nobody cared. So he smiled, and straightened -up a little. - -"If you speak English won't you please say something? Just tell me what -kind of a place this is? Where I am?" - -"Non entra no signori in questo giardino." - -Cyrus knew those words were Italian, and that was all. He frowned in -his endeavor to guess their meaning. - -"I am sorry, but I don't understand. Won't you please say that in -English?" - -"I said you were in a place where men are not allowed." - -In pronouncing English words it seemed another voice. And he had heard -it before! His drowsy eyes opened wider, his lips parted, and for a -moment he stared, in wonder, as if belief came hard. Was it the voice -he had heard in the darkness--in the motor, that night? As he stood in -dumb surprise, hoping for the best, the girl stepped forward with a -smile and extended a hand. - -"Ruth!" he exclaimed. "Oh, Ruth! Really, is it you?" - -It was. And great joy was in the meeting. They told each other many -things. He learned that after the death of her parents she had found a -refuge here, in this convent, through the influence of a friend. And -he, in turn, told of his father's sudden death, of his own doings, of -the Great Discovery. But he made no mention of his present affluence. -He could foresee her sorrow and her sympathy for a man, otherwise -normal, who told of gathering diamonds on the moon. - -Leaning against the parapet, and facing the golden sky across the -water, they talked, forgetful of surroundings. So engrossing was this -talk of other days that they lived again in Longfields. - -From this Fairy Land of childhood Ruth was the first to return to -earth. "You must go, Drowsy." And she turned an anxious look toward -the buildings beyond the garden. - -"Oh, don't say that! Why, Ruth, this is the happiest moment of my -life--a thousand times the happiest. Life has really begun again!" - -"That is very polite of you, but----" - -"Polite! Well, I should say! Why, Ruth, your very presence--just to -look at you and hear your voice--is a--is a--breath of heaven. You are -the loveliest thing I have ever seen. I can't express it!" - -She laughed. "You are doing fairly well." - -"Of course, you know it already, but truly, with no exaggeration, as -you stand there now with that western sun for a side light you are the -daintiest thing in Creation. And the same spell-binding eyes! Well, I -knew that night in the dark that you were not a giantess--and that was -about all." - -She raised a hand for silence. "That will do, Drowsy. You have covered -the ground." - -But Cyrus went on. "And so angelic and pleasantly superior! Why, you -are a temptation to any able-bodied lover to pick you up and run--or -fly--away with you." - -She blushed, frowned and laughed, all at the same time. "That will do! -Now I know exactly what I am--and just how childish a man can be. I -believe you are lighter headed than when you were a boy." - -"I am telling the truth." - -"Telling the truth! Then you have changed, indeed, for that was not -your habit." In sudden alarm she straightened up. "Oh, but you mustn't -be seen here, Drowsy! You must go--at once!" - -"Not now? Not this very minute?" - -"Yes, this very minute. Men are not allowed here, under any -circumstances. If I were found talking with you it would mean--oh, -anything!" - -"What does it matter? You are not going to stay here." - -"Stay here? Of course I am!" - -"But not long?" - -"So long as I live." - -"You don't mean that!" - -"Why not? I expect to live and die here. We are all very happy and very -thankful." - -"You don't mean that you are not coming back to--to Longfields--to me? -You don't really mean what you say? That you are going to stay here -forever?" - -"Certainly. Of course. Why not?" - -"Then you have changed your mind since this morning--since yesterday." - -She looked up into Cyrus's face, puzzled, and disturbed. "Changed my -mind? What do you mean? I really don't understand." - -"Are you pretending that you don't know why I am here?" - -"Pretending!" - -"Any other word that you prefer. Only tell me." - -"Tell you what?" - -"Do you mean to say that you don't know why I am here?" - -"You came to see me, I suppose." - -"And you had no idea I was coming?" - -"Not the slightest. How could I? I never was more surprised. But it's a -most welcome surprise." - -Cyrus closed his eyes and drew a long breath as one who makes an effort -at self control. "I ask just one thing, Ruth. Be honest with me." - -"Be honest! Why, Cyrus, what _do_ you mean? Indeed I can only guess at -what's in your mind. You look as if you were angry. You have no right -to be. Aren't you assuming----" - -"Oh, don't! Don't do that! At least be frank. Why did you call me -across the water? Just for the pleasure of doing this?" - -"Call you? Across the water?" - -There was touch of contempt in Cyrus's manner as he replied: "You don't -even know what I mean?" - -"On my honor I do not!" - -"And you accuse me of not being truthful!" - -"Drowsy, listen. This may be our last meeting. Let us not part in this -spirit--through any misunderstanding. Our friendship is too precious -for that, isn't it? I beg you, tell me what you mean by my calling you. -When? How? Do you mean a letter?" - -"I mean the message I received last night, and again early this -morning. Through the air--by wireless as it were--in the old way, years -ago, that I often got your messages." - -"But I have sent you no message." - -"Didn't you even think of me yesterday or this morning?" - -"No, I did not. I have thought of you often, and of our old childhood -attachment, but not yesterday nor this morning, nor for several days." - -"Perhaps you remember," said Cyrus, speaking slowly, the slumbrous eyes -looking earnestly down into Ruth's, "I used to get messages from you -when we were far apart, even from your house to mine." - -"Indeed I do! And it was most mysterious--almost uncanny." - -"And they never deceived us?" - -"No, never;--as I remember them." - -"Well, it was the same sort of message I received last night. It came -to me twice, and the meaning of the message was as clear as any spoken -word. And to this spot it guided me." - -He turned and looked about the grounds, beyond the trees and garden, -toward the cloisters and the chapel. "Who but you could call me here?" - -Ruth, also, looked toward the convent buildings. "Is it not possible -your own brain may have played you a trick? Such things happen, you -know." - -"My brain has not played such tricks. So far it has never deceived me. -To be honest I was not thinking of you at the time. Father's death had -been almost my only thought for weeks." - -"What more can I say, Drowsy? I am telling you the truth. And after all -why should I call you? If you are the faithful soul you pretend to be, -why didn't you write me months ago?" - -"How could I? I never had your address. And you promised--or almost -promised--to let me have it. I waited, and waited, hoping for -it--wondering in what way it was to come." - -She frowned: then, with a solemn movement of the head: - -"You did have it." - -"I did have it! How on earth could I get it?" - -"From Gertrude Page. I told her to mention a letter from me. Then, if -you asked for my address, she would give it to you. But you didn't ask." - -Vehemently he protested. "On my honor, Ruth, this is the first I have -heard of it. She never spoke of any letter. And why should she, poor -thing? For nearly a year she has been in the asylum at Worcester." - -"You mean her--her mind is affected?" - -"Yes;--sort of a nervous breakdown. And her memory gone." - -"Oh, how dreadful!" - -In the silence that followed, Ruth found the drowsy eyes looking deep -into her own, as if reading her innermost thoughts. She recalled the -singular power he had exercised as a boy--of seeing into other people's -minds, apparently without effort, and answering questions before they -were asked. At this present moment she had reasons for keeping her own -thoughts to herself. She avoided his gaze, and looked away, over the -water, toward the west. Too late, it seemed, for he said, quietly: - -"It would have been fairer to me if you had sent it." - -"Sent what?" - -"The second letter, the one you wrote to somebody else." - -Ruth's little figure stiffened. Color flew to her cheeks, and there -were signs of anger as she faced him. - -"How do you know I wrote a second letter?" - -Taken aback by this sudden change of manner, he hesitated, then he -smiled, but with an obvious effort. And the smile was not of mirth. -It was a smile of the joyless type, often employed to carry favor. -"Why--I--er--I don't know exactly." - -"Yes you do know. You pried into my thoughts. It's your old trick. And -a hateful habit." - -"I am sorry, Ruth. I know it's a hateful habit." - -"Then why do you do it?" - -"I don't do it. I didn't mean to do it then. It's not a habit any more. -Years ago I gave it up. But now, I was so anxious, so very anxious to -know your real thoughts--to know if you really had no love for me at -all--that I couldn't resist. I swear I will not do it again. Truly I -almost never do it. But now, at the critical moment of my life, when -it's a matter of life or death, the temptation was too great." - -"It's an exasperating, dishonorable trick, and I don't like it." - -"I am sorry, Ruth. Please forgive me." - -"And you are very much mistaken if you think any woman with a -particle of pride is going to marry a man who can spy into her secret -thoughts--and merely by staring at her." - -Her eyes still avoided him. She looked over the garden, toward the -cloisters, anywhere except at his face. When she spoke again, however, -there was more sympathy in her voice. "But that doesn't matter. It has -always been my intention to remain here." - -"You don't really mean it?" - -"Indeed I do! It is no sudden decision. I am very happy here." - -He turned partly away, and said nothing. She glanced at his face, and -its expression would have softened the Rock of Ages. There was no doubt -of his sincerity; nor of his silent agony beneath the blow he had just -received. No words were uttered. He simply stood and gazed--at nothing. - -Across the garden, from the open windows of the central building, came -the sound of a harp. It came faintly, a gentle, plaintive melody, all -in harmony with the murmur of the fountain, the fading glories in the -west--and an aching heart. The voice of the harp may have had its -effect on Ruth. As she looked up at the face of Cyrus, with its misery, -she began to feel the old-time sympathy of their childhood; the long -forgotten sense of responsibility for his welfare when she was mother -and sister to him, with the woman's love he had missed as a boy; also -his chosen pal;--his adored and trusted playmate. She felt again the -yearning to keep him out of trouble. His distress brought an almost -equal suffering to herself. But when he turned his eyes again to her -face she was--apparently--still studying the cloisters. - -"Is this really the end?" He spoke in a lower, unsteady voice. "Do you -really mean that our boy and girl days, our old affection, all those -memories--and you don't know how much they have meant to me--always, -always--through everything--you don't really mean--all that is--is -just--nothing? That I am no more to you than anybody else?" - -The heart in Ruth's little body beat so loud--it seemed to her--that -a man could hear it. She tried hard to blink away the moisture in her -eyes as they rested on various objects, but not on the face of Cyrus. -"You will get over it, Drowsy. I feel it, in another way, as much as -you do. Please don't talk about it. And you really must go. A man's -presence here--and alone with me--would be very hard to explain. Please -go--for my sake!" - -Cyrus closed his eyes and drew a hand, slowly, across his forehead. -Then, instead of the protest she expected, he straightened up in a -sudden agitation, laid his hand on her arm and pointed toward the -convent buildings. - -The voice of a woman, singing, came floating across the silent garden. - -"What is that?" he whispered. - -Also in a lower tone Ruth answered: "That is Sister Francesca, -singing. She has a heavenly voice." - -"What is she singing?" - -"An old Hungarian song. A mother's prayer for her child. She often -sings it. And nothing could be more beautiful." - -"Sister Francesca!" he exclaimed, but in a solemn whisper. He -remembered his father's dying words. - -"A famous singer," Ruth explained. "All the world has heard of her. She -was never a mother but she sings this song with all the feeling and -the----" - -He did not hear the end of the sentence. He had started in the -direction of the song, across the garden. - -"Stop! Stop! Cyrus, stop. You don't know what you are doing!" - -But he paid no attention. Again she called. She entreated, then -commanded. Still he paid no attention. And he walked so fast that she -stopped and stood still in helpless terror. She could only guess at -what this humiliating misadventure might signify to the other sisters. -On second thought she followed, but with the courage of despair. The -catastrophe was at hand, and she would face it. As for Cyrus, he heard -her not. He heard only the song. He heard only the woman singing--the -voice and the song that had come to him beneath the stars, at -Longfields! - -At last he stopped. And when he stopped he was standing upon a stone -terrace, where high arched windows reached the floor, their heavy -casements now wide open. - -There he stood, and listened. - -Although a lover of music, and keenly sensitive to its charm, this -prayer affected him beyond any other song. Its pathos, with the divine -voice that had thrilled the world, reached deeper than his emotions. -Into his very soul it sank. It seemed to open the doors of memory--the -memory of things long forgotten; things almost of another life. - -Under a spell he listened, and the spell was intensified by the scene -about him,--an enchanted garden high above the world. Against the gold -and crimson in the West stood the statues at the garden's edge, their -purple shadows reaching almost to the terrace. With the warm, soft -light that enveloped all things came a peace and a beauty that were -more of paradise than of earth. And, as if to complete the illusion -of the upper realms, the voice of the singer seemed to lift him yet -further from the world of common things. Between this voice and his -spiritual self came a new born harmony. It came to him as a message -between two hearts, wafted across a gulf of years. The message it -brought was intimate, for him alone. To the voice itself, a tendril of -love, all the chords of his own heart were vibrating. Some mysterious -power reawakened elusive but imperishable bonds between itself and him. - -He closed his eyes, shut out the world about him, and his soul and the -soul of the singer were one. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -XVI - -THE SOUL OF A SONG - - -Within, at one side of the room, a group of forty sisters, more or -less, sat listening to the song. The room was spacious. Against its -white walls hung various paintings by old masters. The further wall, -facing the western windows, was partly covered by an enormous tapestry -representing Esther and her handmaidens before King Ahasuerus. The king -was on a throne, amid the splendors of his court. Now, at this hour, -its colors were all aglow at the touch of the sinking sun. Between the -three long windows stood growing plants in massive pots of Siena marble. - -Across the room, facing the sisters, stood Madame Francesca; and, not -far away, the accompanist with her harp. - -The various members of the little audience were affected by the song -in different ways and in different degree, according to temperament. -Some, enraptured by her voice and art, leaned forward in aesthetic joy. -Others, with moister eyes and quicker breath, gave out their hearts to -the deeper meaning of the song. Madame Drusilla, an older woman whose -two young sons had fallen in the war, sat always, on these occasions, -with head bent low, her face in her hands. But all the others kept -their eyes upon the singer. For the personality of Madame Francesca--as -she wished to be called since her retirement from the world--possessed -in itself an irresistible charm. Now, standing in her light gray -uniform, in the flood of golden light from the great windows, she -seemed transfigured--a celestial being from another sphere. - -The song itself was the outpouring of a mother's love. And it was -rendered with a pathos, a beauty and a depth of feeling that stirred -the heart of every listener. It seemed to the sisters a marvel of -dramatic art that a woman, however great an artist, could so touch the -hearts of others when not herself a mother. And they marveled that a -woman whose physicians forbade excitement could so move an audience and -not be overwhelmed herself by emotion. - -The song ended. As the fingers of the harpist moved gently across the -strings, in the last notes of the accompaniment, Madame Francesca stood -for a moment with closed eyes. Her breathing and the color in her -cheeks showed a degree of feeling which Sister Lucrezia, the physician, -did not approve. - -Then came a climax to the song--a climax far transcending any singer's -art. In this short, somewhat solemn silence that followed the song, -there appeared in one of the long windows that opened to the floor, -a figure rarely seen within the convent walls. It was a man. And the -man was neither workman, priest, grand duke or king. Neither was he -old. Men visitors were rare, and the few that entered were usually -middle aged or churchly. This visitor was young, hatless, his hair in -disorder. He wore a checkered suit and leather leggings, and he was in -no way ecclesiastical. His manner was eager,--somewhat excited, with -eyes fixed earnestly on Sister Francesca. He paid no attention to the -other sisters. If such a thing was possible he was ignorant of their -presence. As for the sisters they were too surprised to speak, or move. -They merely sat and stared. - -Cyrus stepped within, slowly, as in a trance. Slowly he advanced toward -Madame Francesca. She, as surprised as any of the others, regarded -him in silence until he stopped before her. As they stood facing each -other, the western light on both their faces, the spectators--including -Ruth, now at the open window--began to marvel. Fear began to mingle -with surprise, for many in the audience knew that famous beauties could -be tormented by crazy lovers. But fear, in turn, gave way to wonder, -for it proved a strange interview, never forgotten by those who saw it. -No words were spoken. No words were needed. In the eyes that looked -into his own Cyrus read their greeting as clearly as in an open book. -And she, as clearly, looked deep into his heart--as she had looked -into the heart of his father. Now in his responsive, eager face she -saw the confirmation of his father's letters, that she had bequeathed -to her child her own extraordinary faculty. It brought a sudden joy, -this assurance of a perfect understanding. Each received, in full, -the other's message. In the face of Cyrus--with his grandfather's -drowsy eyes--she saw his happiness in this meeting. He was telling -her in unspoken words of his childhood yearnings; how he had thought -and dreamed of her from early boyhood; that he had prayed and hoped -for this meeting. And now--here, had come the fulfillment of all his -dreams, his hopes, his prayers! And he, as he fathomed to their secret -depths the tragic but tender eyes, found love and a heart-expanding -welcome. - -The little audience, however, saw nothing but the outward, silent -greetings. To them was not revealed the greater happiness, the -imperishable bond. - -But this silent meeting, with its overwhelming joy, was the prelude to -the drama--its silent overture. The curtain had risen on the Diva's -final triumph, the Immortal Opera with its happy ending. - -To the amazement of the audience she drew the young man's face to -hers and kissed him on either cheek. Then, overcome by emotion, as -it seemed, her head fell slowly forward on his breast. Without his -supporting arms she would have sunk to the floor. The sisters saw, and -hastened to her side. Cyrus, with their help, carried the fainting -figure to a nearby bench, where they laid her, with a cushion beneath -her head. Sister Lucrezia, the physician, bent anxiously over the -unconscious form. And so sudden was it all that her hearers could -hardly believe her when at last she arose, and solemnly announced that -the spirit of Madame Francesca had risen to another life. - -She spoke in Italian but Cyrus knew its meaning. His head drooped and -he stood motionless, crushed, as if his own spirit and that of the -sleeping figure on the bench were still together. - -It was the Diva's long sleep. The last notes of her enchanting voice -had died away; the curtain was down, the orchestra gone, the lights -out. The audience had vanished. No more in the empty house would be -heard the clapping of hands, the cries of enthusiasm, the _bravos_ and -_encores_. - -But there are memories that never die. And now, to those who looked -upon the tranquil face, it seemed as if memories of conquest and of -triumph--or of something higher--still lingered in her heart. For the -face was more than peaceful. There was a smile upon the lips that bore -witness to a perfect contentment beyond the touch of death. - - * * * * * - -Cyrus was recalled to himself by the voice of the Mother Superior, -a tall, gray-haired, kind-faced woman. She approached him, and in a -voice of sympathy addressed him, in Italian. He understood the meaning -of the message; that she shared his grief, but the presence of men -was forbidden; the rules were strict, and she begged him to go. He -expressed his gratitude by a respectful inclination and a few words -in English. Then he walked over to the silent figure. Upon her folded -hands he laid one of his own and stood, for a moment, looking down upon -the face. The rosy light from the western sky seemed to bring the flush -of life to the Diva's cheeks. He knelt beside the bench. Reverently he -touched his lips to the sleeper's forehead. - -He arose and moved toward the terrace. Near the window he stopped, and -to the watching sisters he bowed. In this obeisance he told his sorrow -and his profound respect. Then he turned and went out as he came. - -The Mother Superior, still apprehensive, asked Ruth to accompany him -to the gates and make sure of his departure. But Cyrus did not walk -toward the gates. He walked toward the spot where he and Ruth had met, -then beyond among the trees. During this walk neither spoke. As Cyrus -was obviously in deepest sorrow Ruth refrained from words. Absorbed in -her own thoughts, she suddenly realized that she was approaching an -unfamiliar object. This unfamiliar object, a thing about twenty feet -in length and a little taller than a man, might pass for some unknown -monster of the deep, or a minor whale. It seemed to be of iron with a -trap-door in the side just large enough for a man to climb within. Its -color was a dull gray. - -"Look!" she exclaimed. "What on earth is that?" - -"My flying machine. That is what I came in." - -"You came in that?" - -As she looked up at him he nodded, slowly, and made no other reply. -The light was fading, but she could see that a change had come into -his face since they stood together at the garden wall. This new -expression showed a side of his character that she had forgotten. She -now remembered that it was the same look that had come into his face -when he vanquished the Tormentor in the Unitarian Church, years ago; -when the good natured, easy going boy became, of a sudden, a reckless -gladiator, the fearless defender who fights--and dies, if needed--for a -sacred cause; his God, his Country, or--on that occasion--for his girl. -It told deep emotions, of strength of purpose and the courage that has -no respect for obstacles. Yet the slumbrous eyes were friendly as he -said: - -"Come, Ruth. Come home with me. I will make you happier than you will -ever be in this place." - -"No, Cyrus. No. I cannot." - -"Do you mean that you will stay here all your life, from a sense of -duty?" - -"No--not wholly. Oh, why begin all over again? Please be reasonable, -Drowsy. Please go away quietly." - -His voice was gentle, but there was something in his face that -recalled the boy of long ago, the boy who vanquished giants. Now it -was the man--who might defy the gods. She was afraid:--of what, she -knew not. But she took a backward step, a hand to her breast as if to -calm a nervous heart. There was reason to be afraid. For then happened -the unforgivable thing--doubly unforgivable when applied to a woman -of sensibility and pride. He bent forward, to pick up something at -her feet, she thought. Then, without warning, and all too sudden for -escape, she felt an arm behind her knees, another across her back, -and she was lifted from the ground. Before she could protest, or even -struggle, he pushed open the door of the iron monster with his foot and -passed her within as if she were a child. Gently he placed her on the -floor and climbed in himself. She found herself sitting in front of -him, her shoulders held firmly between his knees. He shut the little -door at his side and all was dark. A button was pressed, one or two -small levers manipulated, then a buzzing sound, a slight quivering -of the car and through the port hole in front she saw that they were -rising above the tops of the trees. - -Then, high into the air. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -XVII - -"I MEAN IT" - - -Six hundred miles an hour, to old-time travelers, might seem fast. High -up in the air, however, some miles above the earth with nothing beneath -but the Atlantic Ocean, it seems a moderate pace. There are none of the -usual landmarks to gauge one's speed; no telegraph poles, houses, or -towns. The few ships one passes, seen far below, are movable objects -with no definite relation to your own progress. Also, in a practically -air tight conveyance no wind can beat against your face. - -While three hours may seem brief for a transatlantic passage it must -be remembered that the time Cyrus lost in going Eastward he gained in -going West. The surface of our little earth moves eastward about a -thousand miles an hour; so, with North America rushing forward to meet -him he could easily make the journey of five thousand miles and more -in the four hours, and almost without hurrying. There is a startling -difference in celerity between an automobile and a yoke of oxen; -more still between a steamship and a cannon-ball: and Cyrus' device -was capable of any speed that he dared to travel. The only delays -were in starting off, and in approaching his own Coast. Once above -Massachusetts, however, he could easily find Longfields. The landmarks -were familiar. - -During this journey very little conversation took place between his -passenger and himself. Sitting on the floor in front of him, her -shoulders between his knees, he could not see her face. She made no -acknowledgment of his speeches and gave no answer to any questions. He -was correct in his belief that she was both alarmed and angry. But he -did not know at the time that her anger far exceeded her alarm. This he -realized, however, when he helped her from the car at the door of her -aunt's house in Longfields. - -For a moment she leaned against the door, weak, trembling, dazed, her -hair disarranged, her cheeks hot. No words had been spoken during the -last two hours. This long silence he was the first to break. - -"You will forgive me, Ruth, won't you?" - -It was too dark to see each other's faces, but this time had her eyes -met his there would be nothing to conceal. Her anger and her dislike -were deep and sincere. She answered in a low tone, but the tone and -manner revealed a repugnance of whose existence there could be no doubt. - -"Do not speak to me again; ever. Do you hear?" - -"Yes, I hear." - -"I mean it." - -With a quivering hand she turned the knob, entered the house and shut -the door behind her. - -That Ruth meant all she said was soon made clear to Cyrus--very clear -indeed. Two days later--after giving her time to recover--he came to -her aunt's house with a little bouquet of flowers, hopefully gathered -by his own hands in his own garden. With it was a note, an eloquent -little plea for forgiveness, so humble and so sincere as to soften a -heart of granite. He knocked at the front door, and waited. At last--it -might have been a year that he waited--the door was opened. - -"Good morning, Stella." - -"Good morning, Cyrus." - -Stella was the daughter of Abner Phillips, the harness maker, and she -and Ruth and Cyrus had been playmates together in the old days at the -red school house. The little harness business had suffered--even more -than other things--with the decline of Longfields, and had finally -expired. Stella had been out at service for the last few years. She was -an angular maiden with thin lips and sharp eyes. - -"Will you please take this note and the flowers to Ruth, Stella, and -ask if I can see her?" - -"Yes, of course, won't you come in?" - -"No, thank you. I'll just wait here." - -On the doorstep he waited, but not long; Stella quickly returned with -the note and the flowers. - -She seemed embarrassed. "Ruth says she--she----" - -"Out with it, Stella." - -"She says she won't see you." - -"Won't see me! Is that just what she said?" - -The maiden hesitated. As a friend of both and strictly neutral, her -position was awkward. - -"Why--yes." - -"Just what did she say, Stella?" - -"She said, give him back his flowers and his note and tell him not to -come again." - -This was clear to the dullest lover. And the words cut deeper still -as he saw in the face of the sharp eyed ambassadress an impressible -gleam of pity--or exultation--he could not tell which. Cyrus blushed -like a girl. For a moment his drowsy eyes gazed blindly at Stella, -then at the flowers and the note as if trying to realize what had -happened. The effort was painful. The flowers seemed to be jubilant in -their gayety, and jeering at him. He had believed, until this moment, -that he was prepared for the worst. He had also believed, from his -knowledge of women in history and fiction that they changed their minds -with ease--in short, that honest lovers never need despair. This blow -seemed to paralyze his senses. But Pride came to his rescue. It made -him realize the degradation of appearing a fool before Stella. So, -collecting his scattered wits he raised his head and smiled upon the -waiting maiden. There was a quivering of the lip, however, as he said -in a manner laboriously offhand--and, of course, unsuccessful: - -"Oh, well, I must try again. Thank you, Stella. Good-by." - -As he reached the gate she saw him toss the flowers to the ground. - -His state of mind as he walked blindly along the village street, -beneath the arching elms, could not be described in articulate -language. Sorrow, anger, humiliation, all struggled for control. -Resignation was not among them. So Ruth was really in earnest. If she -hated and despised him, why live? This tumult within, while it numbed -his senses--and might lead to tragedy--provided mirth for others. -Just in front of the store a group of children ran across his path. -They were followed, slowly, by a large Newfoundland dog, a well-known -character in the village. He officiated, as is customary among dogs, -as guardian and boon companion to children, all of whom he loved. His -name was Major. He belonged to little Jason Howard, but he was on terms -of intimacy with every child in Longfields. Major happened to stroll -across the sidewalk just in front of Cyrus. The discarded lover, blind -to outward things, collided with him. Always a gentleman and never -forgetting his manners, Cyrus stopped, and--Ruth being the only thing -in his mind--he raised his cap and bowed politely. - -"I beg your pardon. It was my fault. Excuse me." - -And all with a sober face. The children laughed, supposing Cyrus was -being funny for their amusement. But never in his life had Cyrus felt -less like being funny. Soberly he walked away not even hearing their -laughter. - -After this interview with Major he at once relapsed into the Canon -of Despair. For his was the agony of a man of honor who feels he has -committed a disgraceful act, and has lost, for all time, the respect -and good opinion of the being whose affection he valued above all other -things. - -It seemed but a moment after leaving Major that he found himself -standing before two women and saying "how do you do"--or something -equally significant. With a mighty effort to ignore the past--and the -future--he recognized the two elderly maidens as Miss Fidelia Allen and -Miss Anita Clement. They had stopped and were passing the time of day -with him. He realized, blindly, that Miss Clement had opened a book and -was telling him about it. Miss Clement had the faculty of expressing -a barren idea in a wealth of language. So, while the listener's -drowsy--and now dreaming--eyes rested on the speaker's lips he was -seeing, not Miss Clement's face, but a face more threatening, yet of -greater interest. As to the effect of Miss Clement's well chosen words -on the listener's far away mind, the sound from her lips might have -been the murmuring of pines. And as for The Only Woman in the world, -if other women had changed their minds why not this one? He recalled -the look in her eyes when---- - -"Do tell us what you think of it--just how you feel about it, Cyrus?" - -As the wild horse of the prairies is suddenly jerked to earth by a -lasso, so came back Cyrus. - -"Oh--oh--very well, indeed, thank you. Never better." - -"I meant about this new thought from the Orient. Just how deeply it -impresses you. Just where, among the great thinkers, you would place -Rub-a Shah Lagore." - -"That's it exactly! Rubbish galore! Couldn't express it better. -Somebody described all that stuff as transcendental flim-flam." -And he smiled his most winning smile--a smile of sympathy, of fine -intelligence and a lively interest in the conversation. - -But Miss Clement stiffened a little, and frowned. "Do you feel that -way?" - -"Possibly you don't know Rub-a Shah Lagore," said Miss Fidelia, more -gently. - -"Know him? Oh, yes," said Cyrus. "I know him. That is, I think I met -him. Was it in Cambridge?" - -"I doubt it," said Miss Clement, "as he died about fifteen hundred." - -"Fifteen hundred!" Cyrus smiled, nodded and tried to appear at ease. -"Still I may have met him in a previous incarnation." - -Then, apropos of incarnations, Miss Clement discoursed on the Oriental -mind, on matters psychic, philosophic, mystic and occult. And as she -talked, and drifted hither and thither on a sea of words, Cyrus floated -off in his own direction, and was recalling once again the look in -Ruth's eyes--that mingling of anger and contempt when Miss Clement -again suddenly brought him back to the village street. - -"Don't you think so yourself?" - -Cyrus pulled himself together. "Er--well--perhaps I don't quite -understand you." - -"Do you know of any richer period in human thought? Any greater age?" - -"Any greater age? No, certainly not. You mean fifteen hundred years? -It certainly beats all records. That is, of course, all human records. -Elephants, parrots and turtles, I believe, live to a green old age, but -nothing like----" - -Just what happened after that Cyrus did not remember. He found himself -walking home with clear memories of Ruth, intermingled with blurred -but painful impressions of two maiden ladies, frowning in surprise and -annoyance as they said good-by and turned away. - -Of one thing only was he certain: that in the utterance of senseless -words he had surpassed all previous records, ancient or modern. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -XVIII - -THE CANON OF DESPAIR - - -As to human wisdom, the best that can be said is that some of us are -less crazy than others. Also, that the habitually foolish person, -he who is foolish by preference--or by unalterable Fate--is less -disturbing than your usually sensible friend who suddenly becomes -fatuous. - -This was realized by Joanna during the next few days. Cyrus caused her -serious alarm. On his new and larger air craft he worked with such -feverish haste that he forgot to eat or go to bed until reminded of -those habits. In the matter of eating he seemed to have lost all memory -as to when or how to do it. He poured tea instead of maple syrup on -his rice cakes; he recognized no difference in flavor between salt and -powdered sugar, marmalade or mustard. Joanna's strawberry shortcake, -the very best in the world--and his favorite dish--he regarded with -unseeing eyes and forgot to eat it. His reply to nearly all her demands -for information on whatever subject, was a smiling "Certainly, of -course." - -But these were trifles. In his cup of bitterness there still were -dregs: and sleepless Fate had not forgotten them. The cup was to be -emptied. Late one afternoon, three days after the rebuff to his note, -his flowers and himself, he was returning from Springfield alone in his -motor. About a mile from Longfields, where the road ran through some -woods, he saw a figure on ahead, walking toward the village. It was a -female figure, short, slight, erect, and moving with a light and rather -jaunty step. It wore a continental hat, a white shirt waist and a white -skirt. He recognized this person at first glance, ran his car ahead of -her a short distance, then stopped at the side of the road, got out and -walked back to meet her. This time there was no elaborate salutation _a -la Grande Monarch_. It was a simple raising of his cap and a tentative, -humble minded greeting. - -"Good day, Ruth." - -"Good day, Cyrus." - -She smiled, but the smile brought no sunshine to his heart; a -perfunctory smile of duty and good manners, such as might have -greeted any other human animal. And as she stood there, against the -dark background of the woods, calm, cold, beautiful, and oh! so far -away!--he saw aversion in her face and in every line of the rigid -little figure. - -In a low, uncertain voice he spoke. "So you will never forgive me?" - -For a moment she looked away, beyond him, along the road toward the -village. "I forgive you a great deal. I forgive your taking me by force -and against my will from a welcome refuge where I was looking forward -to a peaceful, happy life. But the greater wrong you have done me, the -irreparable injury--that is harder to forgive." - -"Irreparable injury? What do you mean, Ruth?" - -Her eyebrows went up. "Indeed! You really do not know what I mean?" - -"On my honor I do not." - -"I mean my reputation--the loss of my good name." - -"Oh, Ruth! Why you--oh--don't say that!" - -Calmly, but with an obvious effort at self control she answered: - -"Do you think there is no gossip in Longfields, no comment on my -unexpected arrival? Do you think an unmarried woman can travel about -the world alone with a young man as I did, and keep her good name?" - -"I never thought of it--in that way. On my honor--I did not." - -"Do you know of any other respectable young woman of your acquaintance -who has done anything like it?" - -"But it was all my doing. You couldn't help it. Don't they all know -that?" - -"No. Why should they know it? Will they believe that you, whom they -have known from boyhood, whom they respect and like, would carry me -off by force, entirely against my will?" Then with a bitter little -laugh: "Oh, no! They are not so simple! And some woman has started a -story that we----" Her face became crimson and she covered it for a -moment with her hands--"Oh, I can't bear to think of it." - -Cyrus closed his eyes. His head drooped. "I never thought of all that. -I was stupid. I can see it now. I don't blame you for hating me." - -Ruth went on, speaking with nervous haste. "A pleasanter bit of scandal -never happened in this village. I could not bear to live here. It would -kill me to live here." - -"You are not going away!" - -"Indeed I am!" - -"Where?" - -"To Worcester, to earn my living as a nurse." - -"Listen, Ruth. Let me do something, no matter what. Let me take you, or -send you back to the Convent." - -"The Convent! The Convent!" she repeated, and her cheeks reddened. "Do -you think the Convent a refuge for women who leave it as I did?--for -women who elope with--oh! It's for better women than that! They would -never allow me within its gates." - -"Then let me atone in some way." - -"Indeed! And how?" - -"In any way you say--there's all my money--take some of it--all of it. -Not as a gift, but in some business way. Let me buy something at a----" - -"Clever thought! Regild my reputation with Cyrus Alton's money!" - -"Then marry me. Be my wife, only in name. I swear to you--I--will never -see you if you wish it. Or--or trouble you in any way. Only let me do -something. I had no idea of--of what--of what all this meant to you." - -"Your wife!" she laughed a scornful, tragic, broken-hearted little -laugh. "Never in this world. Never! Never that!" - -She turned and walked away. - -He walked beside her. "Please listen. I will do anything you say. I -know I deserve it all, but that afternoon at the convent I was not -myself. After what happened I was all wrought up. My brain----" - -She stopped, turned about and faced him. - -"Yes, there is one thing you can do. Leave me now. And let us not be -seen together again--ever." - -For a brief moment they stood confronting each other. And Cyrus -looked deep into the eyes that once had been his guiding stars; the -friendly eyes in whose depths his boy heart had sought--and never in -vain--encouragement, or consolation. Now, he was finding in their -contemptuous beauty only the cold ashes of their childhood devotion. - -Then, once more, she turned her back upon him. Erect and with decisive -steps, the little figure departed. He stood watching her as she -walked--walking out of his life. In his brain and in his heart was a -numbing pain--the knowledge that his highest hopes were dead--killed, -and by himself! - -There and there he made a decision, a decision of vital import to -himself. And why not? Who in the world, except Joanna would mourn, or -even miss him? If there be such a thing as consolation when hope is -dead, he found it in a great resolve. - -As he passed her in his car he raised his cap and murmured - - "_Morituri te salutamus_." - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -XIX - -A YOUNG MAN TALKS - - -Ruth was in earnest when she told Cyrus of her intention to become a -nurse. Some experience in that line, while in Europe, had fitted her -for the work and she found little difficulty in securing a position -in a Worcester Hospital. Possibly her prepossessing appearance was a -help. The Superintendent, being human, was not immune, perhaps, to the -influence of an interesting personality, especially in combination with -an attractive face and voice and figure. - -After this interview at the hospital, about the middle of the day, she -took a return train for Springfield. - -When she entered the car at the Worcester Station, and found a vacant -seat, she gave no special attention to the two men in the seat just -behind her own. She merely noticed that the carefully dressed young -man nearest the aisle had an intelligent wide awake face, and that his -companion--next the window--was suffering from a cold in the head of -aggravated dimensions. His aqueous eyes and swollen nose, his sneezes -and his busy handkerchief told the familiar and unromantic drama of a -mucous membrane at war with its owner. - -The weather this day--a week or so after the interview with Cyrus--was -cloudy, damp and otherwise depressing. She felt, of course, -gratification in the success of her mission at the hospital. Her -thoughts, however, were not entirely rosy as she looked from the -car window on this homeward journey, gazing absently on the sunless -landscape. She had much to think about, and often, during this little -journey from Worcester she tried vainly to escape from unwelcome -memories. At the mention of a familiar name, however, these wandering -thoughts were centered suddenly on the conversation of the two men in -the seat behind her. - -"Alton, Cyrus Alton. Guess you've met him." - -"Yez, I thig zo. Kide of sleeby eyes, hasn'd he?" - -"Yep. His eyes are sleepy, but, gee whiz! He does things." - -"Whad thigs?" - -"Oh, anything--if it's impossible." - -"Didn'd he bake a lod of bunny all of a zudden?" - -"Bet your life he did! Made it while you wait." - -"How budge?" - -"God knows." - -"How did he do id?" - -"God knows that too:--He and Alton. You can hear anything. Some say a -rich widow, others, a pirate's cave. Perhaps it's just a friendly tip -from his Partner." - -"Who is his bardner?" - -"The Almighty." - -"You bead he is bious?" - -"Nixy not! He's a scientist, and science and piety don't seem to -cuddle much. He has discovered--or his Big Partner has told him--some -secret of electricity that is just the humpingest thing out of jail. -It's going to revolutionize the whole human outfit; business, travel, -transportation. As to little things like manufactures in peace and -wholesale destruction in war, why, we've got to begin all over again. -You just can't digest it. And it's so simple that you laugh when you -think of it." - -"Doe! Really?" - -"Yep; that's no exaggeration." - -"Thad's inderesdig. I have heard vague rubers aboud id bud nothing like -thad. Just whad is id?" - -"Just what is it. Well, that's an easy question to ask. When he blabs -his secret then we'll all know. But he says it's so simple that it's -sure to be discovered some day." - -"I spoze you doe him breddy well." - -"Yep, in a way. He orders his electric stuff through us. A year ago -when he was so poor he used to foot it to save trolley fare the boss -trusted him for twelve hundreds dollars' worth of radium." - -"Good for the boss! He was a zpord. Did he ever get his bunny bag?" - -"Twice over. Oh, Alton didn't forget it. He's as straight as a string." - -"Well, he bay be all ride in sub ways bud he busd be jusd aboud grazy -to sdard on thad jourdy." - -"Oh, I dunno. He has done some big stunts already. And he's pretty -level headed." - -"Yez, bud id seebs like suizide to be. How var away is Bars, eddyway?" - -"Oh, just a step. I believe the astronomers call it about forty-eight -millions of miles." - -"Vorty-eight billions of biles? Whew!" - -"No, forty-eight millions--not billions." - -The Rose Cold tried to laugh. "Yez I doe id iz--but with thiz invernal -drouble I gan'd prodounce by ebs." - -"Of course; beg your pardon." - -"Thad's all ride. But dell be, is he really goig to dry vor id?" - -"Sure thing. He may have started already." - -Here both men noticed in a careless way, a movement of the shoulders of -the girl in front of them when a hand went nervously to her face. And -it so happened that the Rose Cold's next words were the expression of -her own thoughts when he said: - -"The bad's a vool!" - -"No," said the younger man; "he's not a fool. He has done a lot of -figuring over it,--and experimenting. You see his machine is too good -to be true. It can shoot through space at the same rate as electric -waves, or waves of light." - -"And how vasd is thad?" - -"About a hundred and eighty thousand miles a second." - -"Doe!" - -"Yep." - -"And you really believe id?" - -"Sure." - -"Id's sibly imbossible." - -"I don't blame you for thinking so. But that's just why Alton likes it. -If it was possible it wouldn't interest him. Miracles are his daily -food. Gad, he's a wonder!" - -"A hundred and eighty thouzand biles a zegond! Doe--thad's doo buch vor -bee." - -"No wonder you don't believe it. It surely is going some. Beats oxen." - -"Aboud how log would id taig him to ged there ad thad rade?" - -Here came a silence while the younger man did some figuring. "About -five seconds. But of course no human being, even in an air-tight -cylinder, could keep his head--or anything else, at that rate. He -allows about twelve hours to get there." - -"Dwelve hours! Vorty-eight billion biles in twelve hours! Why zo zlow?" - -"Well, he's got to go slow through the six or seven miles of our -atmosphere. Then, he doesn't know what sort of atmosphere surrounds -Mars. So that'll take time like entering an unknown harbor. To be -really safe he'll have to jog along slowly--on an average of four or -five million miles an hour." - -The Rose Cold laughed. "Beads vairy dales, doesn'd id?" - -"To a frazzle." - -"But the bravesd bad in the world gan'd go all day withoud breathig." - -"True enough. But Alton has the same system of oxygen cylinders as the -U-boats--only better. More condensed and lasts longer. Uses same air -more times without deteriorating." - -"Well, whadever habbens, he busd be glever." - -"Clever! He beats the devil." - -"Will he ever gum bag, Jibby?" - -"Dunno." - -"I subbose the gradest danger is in being hid by a medeoride. I -understand those rogs are always shoodig about in spaze." - -"Yep; and all the way in size from a liver pill to a state house. But -that isn't what'll knock him out." - -"Berhabs dod, bud I shouldn'd gare do be there iv one habbened to hid -him." - -"Right you are. He'd have about as much show as a bottle of ginger -ale colliding with a locomotive. But astronomers say they are not -so very numerous. What he's most afraid of himself is some sudden -electric disturbance in his own machine that will put his own nervous -system out of commission. You see nobody really knows what is going -on in space. And if his nerves or lungs or brain go back on him, in -anyway--Ping!--he's a goner." - -After a pause the Rose Cold spoke in a more serious tone. - -"Well, I taig off my had to him. It's a big thig, thad zord of gourage." - -"I should say! And he knows himself there isn't one chance in a hundred -of his ever touching this little earth again." - -Here the attention of both men was drawn to the girl in front of them, -who suddenly started from her seat--with both hands pressed hard -against her face. She stood for a moment as if in pain, or under some -mental disturbance. Then, sinking back into her seat, she appeared to -be looking quietly out of the window during the short remainder of -the journey. Although her action caused them no further interest, nor -curiosity, it served to divert their talk from Cyrus Alton--a subject -apparently exhausted--to other matters of no interest to Ruth Heywood. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -XX - -ANOTHER MESSAGE - - -When Ruth left the train and took the stage for Longfields her spirit -was in revolt--in revolt against herself, against Cyrus and against the -progress of the vehicle. But any vehicle, however fast, would have been -too slow on that afternoon. She left the conveyance at Cyrus Alton's -driveway. This was her first visit to the Alton's home since her sudden -departure, so many years ago. And now, as she walked toward the house, -almost every foot of ground, every object in the spacious yard, the -old maples and the house itself, seemed accusing her of treason and -of heartless murder. From every side, however, came pleasant memories -of bygone days,--like flowers in a forsaken garden. And all of Cyrus! -Never was a yard so full of history. And now that Cyrus was gone--gone -forever, driven from the world by her own cruelty,--her over sensitive -spirit writhed beneath the stings of conscience. Every recollection -seemed to increase her guilt. Hardest to bear, in all this vista of the -past, was the clear, undying fact that the cherubic, sleepy eyed little -boy always stood between herself and trouble. - -These memories overwhelmed her. There was the old maple in whose shade -she and Drowsy played keeping house. They pretended Zac was President -of the United States who had dropped in for dinner. Only gingerbread -and sour grapes were served and Drowsy gave her the biggest half of the -gingerbread because she, also, was a guest. Zac, always loyal, ate one -or two of the green grapes just because Cyrus did. And the stone wall -that saved their lives;--at least, she thought so when Mr. Randall's -horse came snorting toward them across the field, on the other side. -He seemed close at their heels when Cyrus boosted her up and pushed -her over before he climbed up himself. He pushed so hard--against that -part of the body on which we sit--that she landed on her face, and the -short, stiff blades of grass that had just been mowed, cut the inside -of her nose. She tried to smile as she remembered, with a gulp, that -although he was badly scared himself he was the last to climb over the -wall. Yes, he always gave her first chance at everything--in peace or -war! - -And there the well, where she and Susie Jordan had a quarrel one Sunday -after Church, and Susie threw a dipperful of water on Ruth's head. -It spoiled her new hat and she burst into tears. Then Cyrus walked up -to Susie--Ruth could see him now as if it were yesterday--made one of -his lowest bows, as if to apologize in advance, then slapped her hard -on both cheeks. After slapping her he backed away a few steps and made -yet another profound obeisance, as a judge, after performing a painful -duty, might salute a prisoner of high degree. - -But now she was in too great haste to linger long over memories, or -anything else. She hurried on to the house. Tearful, smiling, but on -the very edge of sobs, she rang the door bell. Too impatient to wait -she entered and walked into the sitting room. The same old sitting -room, and changed but little since she saw it last. On the walls the -same green paper, just a little more faded, perhaps, at certain places -where the morning sun had loitered. Almost covering the center table -were books, papers and magazines. - -Joanna entered. The greetings were cordial. Then, for a few moments -they sat facing each other, Ruth in an arm chair, Joanna on the old -sofa. - -In a casual way, Ruth remarked: - -"I suppose Cyrus is out in the old barn, hard at work on his new -machine." - -"Not now. It is all finished." - -"Is it there now,--the machine?" - -"No, he went away in it." - -"When did he go?" - -"Last night." - -"Where has he gone?" - -"I don't know." - -Ruth leaned back in her chair and the color left her face. - -"Oh, Miss Ruth, are you ill?" - -"No, no! I am not ill. But didn't he say when he was coming back?" - -"He said he might not be back for some days. But he has often done -that." - -Ruth suddenly jumped from her chair, began walking about the room, and -exclaimed: - -"He's a contemptible thing!" - -"Not Cyrus?" - -"Yes, Cyrus. And what a fool! Oh, what a fool!" - -Into Joanna's placid, serious face came a look of amazement. - -"You don't mean to say, Miss Ruth, that, Cyrus--is -a--contemptible--thing and--and a fool!" - -"That's just exactly what I mean. He's a fool--a contemptible, weak, -half-hearted, easily discouraged, stupid fool!" - -Ruth was clearly excited. She spoke rapidly and with vehemence, -marching to and fro as if lashed to fury by some strange obsession. As -Joanna watched the little figure she could hardly believe that this was -the ever gentle Ruth Heywood of her acquaintance. - -Ruth went on: "Not a speck of perseverance! And what a coward! I never -suspected he was such a hopeless coward!" - -"Cyrus a coward! Oh, but--Miss Ruth, you really----" - -"Of course he's a coward! Why has he run away? Do brave men run away? -No. Cowards run away. A mean, contemptible thing. That covers it. A -contemptible cowardly act by a contemptible, cowardly man. And so -ungrateful! Even as a boy he was ungrateful." - -Now, to Joanna, who had known Cyrus intimately since the age of seven, -he was the one perfect thing in creation. Morally he was an example -for the angels; mentally the wonder of the age. So, being a somewhat -literal person, these words came like stabs from a dagger and struck -deep into her own heart. But she answered--more in sadness than in -anger: - -"I really can't imagine anybody thinking Cyrus ungrateful." - -"Well, I do! He has no real love for anybody but himself. He thinks -only of himself; only of himself!" - -"Why, Miss Ruth, when Mrs. Eagan was laid up for nearly a whole summer, -years ago, Cyrus took her a bowl of ice cream himself, every Sunday, -after our own dinner. We had ice cream once a week. He was nothing but -a boy then, but he----" - -"Of course he did! Why not? Any boy would carry ice cream--just for the -sake of holding it." - -Joanna shook her head. "No. All boys are not like that." - -Here Ruth turned fiercely upon her. "And how do you know he did? He -probably ate it himself before he got to Mrs. Eagan's. He would tell -you he didn't, of course. He's an awful liar and always was. You know -that, Joanna, as well as I do." - -"Liar! No, no, Miss Ruth! You don't know him. He got entirely over -that, years ago. He's as truthful as anybody. Long ago, before he went -away to school, his father made him ashamed of his lies and----" - -"Oh, for a time perhaps! Bad boys don't become good over night." - -"But, Miss Ruth, please listen. You only knew him when you were both -very young. He really cured himself. He has not lied since. He was too -young to know better. But even with his lying he was always a good boy." - -"A good boy! Ha! He was not a good boy. I knew him better than you did. -He was like all other boys and no boys are good. They are nothing but -little pirates, prize fighters, screaming, noisy Indians, because they -are savages themselves. They have no honor. They worship criminals -and always want the criminal to escape, because they are criminals -themselves. And Cyrus was just like the others. Good indeed! He was -always evil minded." - -"Evil minded! Cyrus evil minded!" - -Ruth stopped, and stood before Joanna. "I tell you he's bad--just bad. -As a boy he was bad, as a man he is bad--treacherous, cowardly, mean -spirited and absolutely dishonorable. And that's why I hate him!" - -For a moment, with angry eyes and quivering lips she stood looking -down into the other woman's puzzled face. Then, dropping to her knees, -she buried her face in Joanna's lap. - -"Oh, I am so unhappy! So unhappy! Let me die!" - -Joanna understood. Although unemotional herself she knew how to -sympathize with the passion torn woman at her knees. Her own calm -spirit and soothing words had their effect, and Ruth was soon herself -again. - -"And now, dearie," said Joanna, "I am going to bring you a cup of tea." - -Alone in the green sitting room Ruth seated herself beside the center -table. This table held, with other things, several books and papers, -one or two mechanical drawings, some magazines and books. One of these -books was lying open, just before her. A paragraph at the top of one of -the open pages was marked in pencil. Being a scientific book Cyrus must -have marked it. At that moment any thought of interest to him appealed -to Ruth as something sanctified by his absence, a special message to -herself. Besides, that the book should be lying open at this particular -page seemed to her over wrought spirit as if placed there by Cyrus -himself for her to read. - -Had she stopped to think she would have known the open book was -accidental, as she was the last person whom Cyrus could expect to visit -him. But Fate and Providence do stranger things than fiction dares -invent. - -Carefully she read the marked passage, in a reverent spirit, as she -would read a farewell message from a departed friend. It said: - -"All sounds from earth are drifting forever into space. A strain of -music will reach, in time, the most distant star. The music of the -spheres is not an empty phrase. We know that wherever light will travel -those waves that carry light through space will carry sound. Messages -from other planets, for all we know, are reaching us to-day, but we are -not attuned to hear them. Our own little song, or prayer, may reach the -farthest star, but for its reception the sender and recipient must be -in true accord." - -With quivering hands she clutched the book, held it up before her eyes, -and read the words again. Then she dropped the book upon the table and -started up. In her eyes was a new light. - -"But for its reception," she repeated, "the sender and recipient must -be in true accord!" - -In true accord! Yes, she and Drowsy were in true accord, even as -children. If there was one person in this world specially endowed -by Providence to receive such a message, surely it was Drowsy; he -who received even the unspoken thoughts of others! She recalled her -wonderment as a child when her whispered message was understood by him, -at his own home, nearly a mile away. It seemed to her then,--and now--a -supernatural gift. And if this author were correct no distance, however -vast, would be an obstacle. - -When Joanna returned with the tea she found her patient again in a -state of excitement, but excitement of another kind. This time it was -the thrill of a new hope; the exhilaration of a great joy. - - * * * * * - -Late that night, when this world--and other worlds, it seemed--were -silent, Ruth went out into the darkness. Down at the further end of -the long garden, she stood, for a time, looking up into the heavens. -The storm had passed. Slowly, from the west, great clouds were -drifting across a black but starry sky. She shuddered at the thought -of a human being far out in that frigid, infinite waste, a helpless -wanderer,--dead perhaps,--and driven by her own act! - -Her eyes sought vainly to delve into the solemn spaces between the -stars. Who could believe a human voice or a thought could penetrate -those black, appalling depths? But she remembered the sentence, - -"All sounds from earth are drifting forever into space." - -Then, looking up toward the ruddy planet, and putting her one absorbing -thought into fewest words, she said in a low voice, but clearly spoken: - -"Cyrus, come back. I have always loved you." - -Three times she repeated it; and each time with an overflowing heart. - - * * * * * - -If, among the undiscovered forces between other worlds and ours, there -moves, like waves of light, a psychic power intensified by human love, -repentance and devotion, then this woman's message should reach the -uttermost limits of celestial space. Her very soul was in it. - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -XXI - -ABOVE THE CLOUDS - - -Ruth's first night on duty at the hospital, ten days later, was -eventful. - -She had the care of two patients, each in a room by himself, with an -open door between. One of these patients was a man with a broken arm, a -displaced rib, a bandaged head and wandering brain. He made no trouble -and was perfectly quiet, except an occasional mumbling to himself. - -The other patient, the one who appealed more strongly to her -sympathies, was a boy about fifteen. Both legs had been broken in an -automobile collision and he was suffering from internal injuries. In -spite of constant pain his courage never weakened. He was always in -good spirits and trying his best to smile. His gratitude for any -attention went straight to the heart of his nurse:--"That pretty little -nurse with the sad face" as one surgeon described her. - -Ruth was much impressed by Dr. Gladwin, a tall, heavy man, with a -bushy head of the whitest hair. His eyes were threatening, his glance -warlike, all in amusing contrast, however, to his friendly, cheerful -voice, his gentle manners and his unfailing sympathy. He said to her -that evening, after giving his instructions: - -"We have not been able to define precisely this boy's injuries. The -constant pain about his chest is a bad sign, but we are hoping for the -best. His legs will be as good as ever." - -While these words were spoken Ruth looked across the room toward the -patient. His eyes were closed. The round boyish face was drawn with -pain. At that moment his eyes opened and he returned Ruth's look with -a smile. It was a smile of friendliness and courage, the resolute, -pathetic courage of youth clinging to life. The look itself and the -tale it told brought a sudden moistness to the eyes of the new nurse. -Then she followed Dr. Gladwin into the adjoining room. - -Standing by the bedside of the other patient she looked down upon a man -whose eyes were partly covered by the bandage about his head. The pale -face had the somewhat disreputable appearance that goes with a scrubby, -unshaven chin. - -"This man," said the doctor, "has, as you know, a broken arm and rib, -with an injury to his head. He remains unconscious. The first few days -he made no effort to speak. But now he murmurs something at intervals; -always the same words, I am told. The effort to speak is a favorable -sign in this case, as it indicates a returning memory. He will probably -recover." - -A few further instructions as to her own duties, and he departed. - -Ruth found the boy more greedy for companionship than the unconscious -patient--which was not surprising. No human being could be braver -than this boy. Yearning for sympathy he liked to have his hand held -by this new nurse. As the night wore on he told her in a fragmentary -way, between periods of pain, of his parents in San Francisco, of his -ambitions, if he ever recovered. He also gave details of his accident -last Saturday, just how he was thrown from the motor when they collided -with the other car. - -But the new nurse did not neglect the less interesting patient in the -next room. He seemed like one in a deep, unending sleep, except for the -occasional smile that came to his lips and the muttered words--whatever -they were. - -About two o'clock in the morning the boy closed his eyes and he, -also, slept. Ruth arranged the covering about his neck and shoulders -then stepped gently into the adjoining room. For a moment she stood -at the bedside of the unconscious man with the scrubby chin. He lay -motionless, and in a slumber so deep, so silent, that it seemed to Ruth -he could easily pass away and none be wiser. Then, for a time, she -stood at the open window, looking out into the peaceful summer night -and up at the stars. Her thoughts, when alone these days, were always -in the past, and they were heart breaking. To-night, even the rising -moon, although in its fullest beauty, seemed a perfect symbol of her -own future--a world of dust and ashes. - -At last, with a sigh of resignation--a sigh of despair and buried -hopes--she left the window. Again she stood beside the unconscious and -less interesting patient; he of the bandaged head and scrubby chin. As -she was turning away she noticed a movement of his lips--the beginning -of the periodic smile. She felt a sudden curiosity to hear the coming -words. If, as the doctor said, they were always the same, they might -be a message he had wished to send, important to wife or parents, that -could lead to his identification. Besides she had a strong desire to -learn what words or what thought behind the words--could bring so much -happiness, even momentarily, to a half conscious spirit. - -The light in the room, while softened by shades, was clear enough to -reveal the uncovered portion of his face. And, as she looked more -carefully, the face was less "common" than she had judged from the -unshaven chin. She leaned over the bed, her face not far from his, -and listened. Through the open window came no sound from the sleeping -city; only the pale light from the rising moon; that cold, dead world -of dust and ashes. It may have been the solitude and the silence of the -hour that brought to Ruth a feeling of awe--almost of guilt at this -intrusion upon the privacy of another's thoughts; secrets, perhaps, -of a defenseless brain. As she was wondering what sort of accident had -brought him there the blissful smile became more pronounced. Although -his eyes were partly covered by the overhanging bandage it was clear -that the dormant spirit within was stirred by memories of a supreme -happiness, of a transcendent joy that no physical pain could extinguish. - -Further still she bent over, until her face was near his own. - -Then, through every nerve of brain and body, she felt a sensation of -mingled awe, of terror, of bewilderment, as if she were suddenly in -touch with another world, when she heard, hardly above a whisper: - -"Cyrus, come back. I have--always--loved you." - - * * * * * - -Breathless, as in a trance, Ruth gazed at the lips, where lingered--but -slowly fading, as if reluctant to pass away--the expression of a great -content. The brief liberty of a rapturous thought. Then back into the -darkness. - - * * * * * - -Needless to say that Cyrus Alton was not neglected during his -convalescence. And Dr. Gladwin's prophecy was correct. Cyrus not only -recovered but his recovery, after once regaining consciousness, was -surprisingly rapid. So rapid that the "little nurse with the sad face" -threw aside her sadness, as if waking from a dream, and became the -happiest and most inspiriting person in her vicinity. - -On a certain afternoon, when the convalescent was first allowed to talk -as much as he wished, he told his story. And no better audience could -be desired than the one then seated on the bed beside him, and quite -near the speaker--perhaps to save him the effort of raising his voice. -The day was warm, the windows open. Faintly through the closed blinds -came the murmur of the city, from beyond the spacious grounds of the -hospital. - -The story was simply told. He started at night for the red planet. He -got there and he landed. The air seemed much like ours. But he found -himself in a world quite different from his own. All was architecture; -temples, towers and enormous viaducts fading away into the horizon, -as far as the eye could see. And everything was tall and slender. The -trees were very high with branches pointing upward like poplars, and -always formally laid out in avenues, or in geometric patterns. And the -color! It was like looking at an endless city through orange glasses. -The few people he saw had larger heads than ours, more like children, -but like children with very short legs. They were surprisingly light on -their feet. He was surprised at their high jumps until he remembered -that a man who weighs two hundred pounds on the earth weighs but -seventy-five pounds on Mars. He really saw but little, however, for -although he had tested the atmosphere he found, after looking about -him a moment, that the air, while pleasant enough to breath, was -affecting his nerves and brain, almost like laughing gas. Then, as -he stood there, and began to realize his danger, the wonderful thing -happened! - -Like a soft whisper it came to his ears; gently but clearly, the words -that made him forget the things about him,--and all else, for that -matter. He thought, at first, the lighter air was affecting his nerves -and exciting his imagination; that his own brain was fooling him. For -he knew, or thought he knew, that such a thing was impossible. But as -he stood there, wondering, hoping, trying hard to believe it might be -possible, the message came again, in the same words. Then he knew it -was no delusion. He knew it was no invention of his own, nor the cry -from his own heart of its one desire. - -"And, oh, Ruthy, it was the best news that ever came to that planet!" - -After various remarks of a not impersonal nature from his audience, he -continued: - -"And to think of its getting there! I knew it was possible, -theoretically, but I didn't really believe it. Three times it came. -Then I wasted no more time in wondering. I clambered back into the -machine. Foreign countries had no further interest for me! - -"Foreign countries indeed!" and Ruth closed her eyes, and shuddered. - -"Well," the traveler continued, "I reached home at night, as you know." - -"Reached home!" - -He laughed. "That shows how relative all things are, doesn't it? By -home I meant the Earth. I traveled as fast as I dared for I wanted -to meet somebody at Longfields. Instead of coming down over North -America I found I was sailing up over the Eastern coast of Africa. -When at last I struck Massachusetts, I met a thunderstorm. Any fool -would know better than to stay out in it, but I was in a hurry to get -to Longfields--where I had important business--and I took a chance. I -was nearing Worcester when the storm struck me I had run into it, not -realizing how fast I was going." - -"Yes, yes--go on!" - -"Well, I shall never know just what happened. I don't even know what -became of the machine. The next thing I did know I was in this bed, and -you beside it. Until you spoke to me and I heard your voice I believed -I was dreaming." - -"What do you think did happen, Drowsy?" - -"I think a touch of lightning, an electric shock of some kind, knocked -me silly, burst the door open and sent me heels over head out of the -falling machine." - -Then Ruth told him how he was found in a field, the ground, not far -away, all dug up, a big tree splintered and a stone wall torn to pieces. - -"Yes, yes--it probably took a run for a high jump, went off into space -and is now about a thousand billion miles the other side of Neptune." - -"Thank heaven, it's gone!" exclaimed Ruth. And obeying a sudden -impulse she leaned over and kissed the happy man. - -At that moment Dr. Gladwin entered from the adjoining room. Quickly -Ruth straightened up and backed away, her cheeks redder than roses. - -The old doctor laughed, his face aglow with a boyish delight. "Don't -let me interrupt, for that's what makes the world go round. Doesn't it, -Mr. Alton?" - -"Yes, Doctor. It always has and it will, forever and forever." - -"True, indeed! And how far above science, electrical, medical and any -other kind, or any human invention--even yours." - -"There's no comparison," said the smiling patient. - -"And what a heaven-sent cure for a damaged head and arm and ribs!" - -"And a damaged heart," said Cyrus, waving a hand toward the rosy Ruth. -"It's more than a cure. It's a continuous miracle!" - -Here the much embarrassed Ruth interrupted: "Please don't think, Dr. -Gladwin, that----" - -"That you treat other patients as kindly? Oh, never!" - -"God forbid!" exclaimed Cyrus. - -"I want you to know," Ruth persisted, "that in September there is to be -a----" - -Dr. Gladwin nodded. "Wedding. Yes, I knew it." - -"You knew it!" - -"Several days ago." - -"Why, who told you?" - -"You both told me." - -"We both told you!" exclaimed nurse and patient as they stared first at -each other, then at the doctor. - -"Some days ago," said Dr. Gladwin, with a serious face and impressive -manner, "a certain nurse was waiting for me at my office--early in -the morning. She told me she had discovered the identity of a certain -patient. Her voice was tremulous. One hand she pressed tight against -her heart to silence its beating. She knew, as I did, that loud -reverberations might awaken sleeping neighbors. She had eyes. Possibly -you have noticed those eyes, Mr. Alton." - -"I live in them," said Cyrus. - -"Well, deep, down deep within those eyes I could see the Thing that -makes the world go round; the tender, unchanging glow that is life to a -broken lover." - -Here Cyrus smiled, nodded, gulped, started to say something and gave it -up. - -Dr. Gladwin continued. "She did not tell me she hoped that particular -patient would recover. She told me he _must_ recover. She made it clear -that nothing in this world, or in any other world, was to be considered -until that young man was out of danger." - -"Oh, how can you make fun of me!" protested Ruth. - -"Make fun of you! Make fun of the most sacred thing in human life!" - -"No, Ruth," said Cyrus, "he is not making fun of you. He is simply -reciting the most beautiful of all earthly poems." - -"Yes, he speaks truly," said the doctor: "the oldest in the world yet -always young. An entrancing poem, containing also the secret of the -young man with the broken head. But he hides his secret in a louder -way. He sings it to any listener--and all day long." - -"Oh, come now," from Cyrus. "I say, Doctor, you----" - -Ruth laughed. "Don't interrupt. Please go right on, Doctor. It's just -lovely!" - -Dr. Gladwin obeyed. "Metaphorically he engages an auditorium and a -military band to announce the coming tidings. Then, to the assembled -multitude, he shouts the joyful secret. But when alone with me, those -public methods are not necessary. If I mention, in a casual way, the -nurse with the eloquent eyes, the color rushes into his pale face, his -lips quiver, his eyes become moist and his pulse jumps and dances like -a thing possessed." - -Cyrus laughed and leaned back against his pillow. "Yes and ten times -more so when I'm in her presence and can see her." - -"Of course," said Dr. Gladwin, "a healthy, normal habit. Long life to -it! There's no better way to impart the ever welcome tidings 'I am in -love, and she's mine!' But what a tonic, this carefully guarded secret! -Never, since the world began was cure so swift." - -Then, in a more serious tone, but with his friendly smile: - -"And all deserved! To both of you has come the high reward of Courage -and Devotion." - -Ruth returned his smile, the color still in her cheeks. - -Cyrus closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of fathomless content. - -"It all seems too good to be true," he murmured. - - -[Illustration: THE END] - - - - - * * * * * * - - - - -Transcriber's note: - -Punctuation and possible typographical errors have been corrected. - -Archaic and variable spelling, including hyphenation, has been -preserved. - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DROWSY*** - - -******* This file should be named 53802.txt or 53802.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/5/3/8/0/53802 - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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