A Voyage to Arcturus [76]
up and look perplexed. At these times his eyes, which were of a tawny gold, seemed to contain secrets difficult to associate with one of his age.
"He puzzles me," said Polecrab. "He has a soul like sap, and he's interested in nothing. He may turn out to be the most remarkable of the bunch."
Maskull took the child in one hand, and lifted him as high as his head. He took a good look at him, and set him down again. The boy never changed countenance.
"What do you make of him?" asked the fisherman.
"It's on the tip of my tongue to say, but it just escapes me. Let me drink again, and then I shall have it."
"Go and drink, then."
Maskull strode over to the tree, drank, and returned. "In ages to come," he said, speaking deliberately, "he will be a grand and awful tradition. A seer possibly, or even a divinity. Watch over him well."
The eldest boy looked scornful. "I want to be none of those things. I would like to be like that big fellow." And he pointed his finger at Maskull.
He laughed, and showed his white teeth through his beard. "Thanks for the compliments old warrior!" he said.
"He's great and brawny" continued the boy, "and can hold his own with other men. Can you hold me up with one arm, as you did that child?"
Maskull complied.
"That is being a man!" exclaimed the boy. "Enough!" said Polecrab impatiently. "I called you lads here to say goodbye to your mother. She is going away with this man. I think she may not return, but we don't know."
The second boy's face became suddenly inflamed. "Is she going of her own choice?" he inquired.
"Yes," replied the father.
"Then she is bad." He brought the words out with such force and emphasis that they sounded like the crack of a whip.
The old man cuffed him twice. "Is it your mother you are speaking of?"
The boy stood his ground, without change of expression, but said nothing.
The youngest child spoke, for the first time. "My mother will not come back, but she will die dancing."
Polecrab and his wife looked at one another.
"Where are you going to, Mother?" asked the eldest lad.
Gleameil bent down, and kissed him. "To the Island."
"Well then, if you don't come back by tomorrow morning, I will go and look for you."
Maskull grew more and more uneasy in his mind. "This seems to me to be a man's journey," he said. "I think it would be better for you not to come, Gleameil."
"I am not to be dissuaded." she replied.
He stroked his beard in perplexity. "Is it time to start?"
"It wants four hours to sunset, and we shall need all that."
Maskull sighed. "I'll go to the mouth of the creek, and wait there for you and the raft. You will wish to make your farewells, Gleameil."
He then clasped Polecrab by the hand. "Adieu, fisherman!"
"You have repaid me well for my answers," said the old man gruffly. "But it's not your fault, and in Shaping's world the worst things happen."
The eldest boy came close to Maskull, and frowned at him. "Farewell, big man!" he said. "But guard my mother well, as well as you are well able to, or I shall follow you, and kill you."
Maskull walked slowly along the creek bank till he came to the bend. The glorious sunshine, and the sparkling, brilliant sea then met his eyes again; and all melancholy was swept out of his mind. He continued as far as the seashore, and issuing out of the shadows of the forest, strolled on to the sands, and sat down in the full sunlight. The radiance of Alppain had long since disappeared. He drank in the hot, invigorating wind, listened to the hissing waves, and stared over the coloured sea with its pinnacles and currents, at Swaylone's Island.
"What music can that be, which tears a wife and mother away from all she loves the most?" he meditated. "It sounds unholy. Will it tell me what I want to know? Can it?"
In a little while he became aware of a movement behind him, and, turning his head, he saw the raft floating along the creek, toward the open sea. Polecrab was standing upright, propelling it with a rude pole. He passed
"He puzzles me," said Polecrab. "He has a soul like sap, and he's interested in nothing. He may turn out to be the most remarkable of the bunch."
Maskull took the child in one hand, and lifted him as high as his head. He took a good look at him, and set him down again. The boy never changed countenance.
"What do you make of him?" asked the fisherman.
"It's on the tip of my tongue to say, but it just escapes me. Let me drink again, and then I shall have it."
"Go and drink, then."
Maskull strode over to the tree, drank, and returned. "In ages to come," he said, speaking deliberately, "he will be a grand and awful tradition. A seer possibly, or even a divinity. Watch over him well."
The eldest boy looked scornful. "I want to be none of those things. I would like to be like that big fellow." And he pointed his finger at Maskull.
He laughed, and showed his white teeth through his beard. "Thanks for the compliments old warrior!" he said.
"He's great and brawny" continued the boy, "and can hold his own with other men. Can you hold me up with one arm, as you did that child?"
Maskull complied.
"That is being a man!" exclaimed the boy. "Enough!" said Polecrab impatiently. "I called you lads here to say goodbye to your mother. She is going away with this man. I think she may not return, but we don't know."
The second boy's face became suddenly inflamed. "Is she going of her own choice?" he inquired.
"Yes," replied the father.
"Then she is bad." He brought the words out with such force and emphasis that they sounded like the crack of a whip.
The old man cuffed him twice. "Is it your mother you are speaking of?"
The boy stood his ground, without change of expression, but said nothing.
The youngest child spoke, for the first time. "My mother will not come back, but she will die dancing."
Polecrab and his wife looked at one another.
"Where are you going to, Mother?" asked the eldest lad.
Gleameil bent down, and kissed him. "To the Island."
"Well then, if you don't come back by tomorrow morning, I will go and look for you."
Maskull grew more and more uneasy in his mind. "This seems to me to be a man's journey," he said. "I think it would be better for you not to come, Gleameil."
"I am not to be dissuaded." she replied.
He stroked his beard in perplexity. "Is it time to start?"
"It wants four hours to sunset, and we shall need all that."
Maskull sighed. "I'll go to the mouth of the creek, and wait there for you and the raft. You will wish to make your farewells, Gleameil."
He then clasped Polecrab by the hand. "Adieu, fisherman!"
"You have repaid me well for my answers," said the old man gruffly. "But it's not your fault, and in Shaping's world the worst things happen."
The eldest boy came close to Maskull, and frowned at him. "Farewell, big man!" he said. "But guard my mother well, as well as you are well able to, or I shall follow you, and kill you."
Maskull walked slowly along the creek bank till he came to the bend. The glorious sunshine, and the sparkling, brilliant sea then met his eyes again; and all melancholy was swept out of his mind. He continued as far as the seashore, and issuing out of the shadows of the forest, strolled on to the sands, and sat down in the full sunlight. The radiance of Alppain had long since disappeared. He drank in the hot, invigorating wind, listened to the hissing waves, and stared over the coloured sea with its pinnacles and currents, at Swaylone's Island.
"What music can that be, which tears a wife and mother away from all she loves the most?" he meditated. "It sounds unholy. Will it tell me what I want to know? Can it?"
In a little while he became aware of a movement behind him, and, turning his head, he saw the raft floating along the creek, toward the open sea. Polecrab was standing upright, propelling it with a rude pole. He passed