A Journey in Other Worlds [101]
for most of those who
strove to obey their consciences, purgatory, when essential,
though occasionally giving us a bitter twinge, is a joy-producing
state. Not all the glories imaginable or unimaginable could make
us happy, were our consciences ill at ease. I have advanced
slowly, yet some things are given us at once. After I realized I
had irrevocably lost your love, though for a time I had hoped to
regain it, I became very restless; earth seemed a prison, and I
looked forward to death as my deliverer. I bore you no malice;
you had never especially tried to win me; the infatuation--that
of a girl of eighteen--had been all on my side. I lived five sad
and lonely years, although, as you know, I had much attention.
People thought me cold and heartless. How could I have a heart,
having failed to win yours, and mine being broken? Having lost
the only man I loved, I knew no one else could replace him, and I
was not the kind to marry for pique. People thought me handsome,
but I felt myself aged when you ceased to call. Perhaps when you
and she who holds all your love come to sheol, she may spare you
to me a little, for as a spirit my every thought is known; or
perhaps after the resurrection, when I, too, can leave this
planet, we shall all soar through space together, and we can
study the stars as of old."
"Your voice is a symphony, sweetest Violet, and I love to hear
your words. Ah, would you could once more return to earth, or
that I were an ethereal spirit, that we might commune face to
face! I would follow you from one end of Shadowland to the
other. Of what use is life to me, with distractions that draw my
thoughts to earth as gravitation drew my body? I wish I were a
shade."
"You are talking for effect, Dick--which is useless here, for I
see how utterly you are in love."
"I AM in love, Violet; and though, as I said, I have no reason to
doubt Sylvia's steadfastness and constancy, I am very unhappy. I
have always heard that time is a balsam that cures all ills, yet
I become more wretched every day."
"Do all you can to preserve that love, and it will bring you joy
all your life. Your happiness is my happiness. What distresses
you, distresses me."
The tones here grew fainter and seemed about to cease.
"Before you leave me," cried Ayrault, "tell me how and when I may
see or hear you again."
"While you remain on this planet, I shall be near; but beyond
Saturn I cannot go."
"Yet tell me, Violet, how I may see you? My love unattained, you
perceive, makes me wretched, while you always gave me calm and
peace. If I may not kiss the hand I almost asked might be mine,
let me have but a glance from your sweet eyes, which will comfort
me so much now."
"If you break the ice in the pool behind you, you shall see me
till the frame melts."
After this the silence was broken only by the sighing of the wind
in the trees. The pool had suddenly become covered with ice
several inches thick. Taking an axe, Ayrault hewed out a
parallelogram about three feet by four and set it on end against
the bank. The cold grey of morning was already colouring the
east, and in the growing light Ayrault beheld a vision of Violet
within the ice. The face was at about three fourths, and had a
contemplative air. The hair was arranged as he had formerly seen
it, and the thoughtful look was strongest in the beautiful grey
eyes, which were more serious than of yore. Ayrault stood
riveted to the spot and gazed. "I could have been happy with
her," he mused, and to think she is no more!"
As drops fell from the ice, tears rose to his eyes.
. . . . . . .
"What a pretty girl!" said Bearwarden to Cortlandt, as they came
upon it later in the day. "The face seems etched or imprinted by
some peculiar form of freezing far within the ice."
The next morning they again set out, and so tramped, hunted, and
investigated with varying success for ten Saturnian days. They
found that in the animal
strove to obey their consciences, purgatory, when essential,
though occasionally giving us a bitter twinge, is a joy-producing
state. Not all the glories imaginable or unimaginable could make
us happy, were our consciences ill at ease. I have advanced
slowly, yet some things are given us at once. After I realized I
had irrevocably lost your love, though for a time I had hoped to
regain it, I became very restless; earth seemed a prison, and I
looked forward to death as my deliverer. I bore you no malice;
you had never especially tried to win me; the infatuation--that
of a girl of eighteen--had been all on my side. I lived five sad
and lonely years, although, as you know, I had much attention.
People thought me cold and heartless. How could I have a heart,
having failed to win yours, and mine being broken? Having lost
the only man I loved, I knew no one else could replace him, and I
was not the kind to marry for pique. People thought me handsome,
but I felt myself aged when you ceased to call. Perhaps when you
and she who holds all your love come to sheol, she may spare you
to me a little, for as a spirit my every thought is known; or
perhaps after the resurrection, when I, too, can leave this
planet, we shall all soar through space together, and we can
study the stars as of old."
"Your voice is a symphony, sweetest Violet, and I love to hear
your words. Ah, would you could once more return to earth, or
that I were an ethereal spirit, that we might commune face to
face! I would follow you from one end of Shadowland to the
other. Of what use is life to me, with distractions that draw my
thoughts to earth as gravitation drew my body? I wish I were a
shade."
"You are talking for effect, Dick--which is useless here, for I
see how utterly you are in love."
"I AM in love, Violet; and though, as I said, I have no reason to
doubt Sylvia's steadfastness and constancy, I am very unhappy. I
have always heard that time is a balsam that cures all ills, yet
I become more wretched every day."
"Do all you can to preserve that love, and it will bring you joy
all your life. Your happiness is my happiness. What distresses
you, distresses me."
The tones here grew fainter and seemed about to cease.
"Before you leave me," cried Ayrault, "tell me how and when I may
see or hear you again."
"While you remain on this planet, I shall be near; but beyond
Saturn I cannot go."
"Yet tell me, Violet, how I may see you? My love unattained, you
perceive, makes me wretched, while you always gave me calm and
peace. If I may not kiss the hand I almost asked might be mine,
let me have but a glance from your sweet eyes, which will comfort
me so much now."
"If you break the ice in the pool behind you, you shall see me
till the frame melts."
After this the silence was broken only by the sighing of the wind
in the trees. The pool had suddenly become covered with ice
several inches thick. Taking an axe, Ayrault hewed out a
parallelogram about three feet by four and set it on end against
the bank. The cold grey of morning was already colouring the
east, and in the growing light Ayrault beheld a vision of Violet
within the ice. The face was at about three fourths, and had a
contemplative air. The hair was arranged as he had formerly seen
it, and the thoughtful look was strongest in the beautiful grey
eyes, which were more serious than of yore. Ayrault stood
riveted to the spot and gazed. "I could have been happy with
her," he mused, and to think she is no more!"
As drops fell from the ice, tears rose to his eyes.
. . . . . . .
"What a pretty girl!" said Bearwarden to Cortlandt, as they came
upon it later in the day. "The face seems etched or imprinted by
some peculiar form of freezing far within the ice."
The next morning they again set out, and so tramped, hunted, and
investigated with varying success for ten Saturnian days. They
found that in the animal