A Speckled Bird Part 21

"Is it possible! If any one else had told me, I should doubt it. I am sure father knows nothing of the wife. Where is she? _Cherchez la femme_ is rarely a satire."

In the flood of moonlight her fair face--expressive only of surprise--showed no vestige of emotion that could disquiet him, and so intense was his relief that for a moment he dared not trust his voice; then he put on his hat and whistled to his dog. As they walked slowly along the margin of the lake, he told her briefly the history of Father Temple and the recent discovery of his wife and child.

"Thank you for telling me such pleasant news. I am very glad poor Vernon will have that angelic boy to comfort him--but 'Juno'? So beautiful, so hard, so bitter! How can any meek priest ever hope to manage her?"

They had reached the point of the sickle, and looking back the swelling curves of wooded hills, ma.s.ses of glossy shrubbery, the irregular profile of the house, outlined by its twinkling lights, and the vast shimmering mirror of the great lake, all lay bathed in liquid gold.

Somewhere in a neighboring copse a bird, disturbed by the dog or misled by the splendor of the night, twittered, and then, to rea.s.sure his brooding mate near by, broke into a rapture of song. Clasping her hands behind her head, Eglah lifted her face to listen, and Mr. Herriott watched the moisture glisten on her lashes.

"Sweet as any aubade of the olden time, under olive and ilex, is it not?"

For a moment she did not reply, then, with a sweep of her arm toward the house on the rocks, she said:

"So beautiful, so full of peace--of such profound repose--how can you--why will you leave it?"

"Because I do not forget '_le repos est une bonne chose, mais l'ennui est son frere_.' I love and enjoy my home, but I prefer not to stagnate.

Garnering the bright and charming memories of the past few days, it can never again seem quite as lonely as I have sometimes found it. I am glad you have met Professor Cleveden, who is one of my best friends. His domestic relations are so happy, and so perfect in their adjustments, that no forlorn bachelor, once admitted to his home, could escape pangs of envy. His wife is literally partner in his joys, sorrows, studies, and diversions, and their only child--the 'little maid' Violet--is spelling in the alphabet of science. Cleveden swears she shall be locked up in his laboratory, safe from the social microbes that he fancies infest the atmosphere of female clubs and 'emanc.i.p.ated women.' Some day I hope you will meet Mrs. Cleveden. She is very beautiful and gracious, though he a.s.sures me he has one grievance against his 'sweetheart,' and Patmore expressed it:

"'Her manners, when they call me lord, Remind me 'tis by courtesy; Not with her least consent of will.'"

"Father distrusts the professor, and cautioned me not to discuss any religious questions, because he considers him a brilliant casuist."

"Cleveden has one apostle whom he follows at all hazards--simple, stern, scientifically established truth--and to him the natural laws are as sacred as those Moses brought directly from the same G.o.d who framed them all. For mere dogma in science or religion he has no tolerance, and I shall never forget the profound emotion with which, in a lecture, he quoted: 'These sciences are the real steps in the great world's altar-stairs that slope through darkness up to G.o.d.' Revealed religion lets down a ladder from heaven; natural sciences are the solid rungs by which men like Cleveden build and climb. Side by side these ladders rise, never crossing at sharp angles, both ending, resting at the feet of G.o.d. Up one spiritual faith runs easily; along the other some souls of different mould toilsomely ascend, each and all seeking and finding the same goal--the eternal Ruler of the universe. Cleveden scoffs at nothing but shallow shams, and we have heard him repeat pa.s.sages from Job and David, then declaim from the Iliad, and declare that as between the thunder roll of Hebrew and Greek, the latter was as the rustle of rushes in a summer wind to the pounding of Atlantic surf on rock-walled sh.o.r.es."

"Nevertheless, father regrets that you cling to such an unsafe guide."

"He is worthy of my trust. Conscientiously hunting only for truth, he admonishes his students:

"'Hath man no second life?

Pitch this one high!'

"To a young man groping in the mist of agnosticism, he repeated the declaration of one of the most subtle scientific thinkers of this century: 'That he had scrutinized every agnostic hypothesis he knew of, and found that they one and all needed a G.o.d to make them workable.'

"I wish I could respect myself as I respect and honor my friend. Eglah, knowing your reticent nature, I am perhaps presumptuous in taking a rash step. There is some trouble that annoys you. Before I go away for such a long, uncertain absence, will you trust me? I may not be able to remove the burden, but I should be glad to share it. Can you tell me what distresses you?"

She looked at him steadily, then away at the brooding water, where voices of the night had begun to croon.

"Mr. Noel, let us go back; the boat is at the terrace."

When they reached the stone stile, she said:

"Do you know why father resigned the senatorship?"

"He has not confided his reasons to me."

"Having known him so long, should you think that his state of health demanded such a step?"

"His appearance at present does not indicate any cause for alarm, and you ought not to conjure a spectre with which to frighten yourself."

"His physician did the conjuring."

She sat down on the stile, and in her strained, sad gaze he measured the depth of her disquietude.

"Mr. Noel, if you know any outside circ.u.mstances that appear to necessitate or warrant this sudden abandonment of a brilliant senatorial career, I beg you will be once more your old, kind, candid self and tell me. If I understood I could bear it better."

"You think your father is perfectly well?"

"I cannot see the change he insists has overtaken him of late; can you?"

"Yes. Within the year his nervousness and want of equipoise have been apparent, and when the newspapers stated that his 'medical adviser' had recommended rest and Aix-les-Bains I was rejoiced. The atmosphere of Washington is the worst possible for him. When do you sail?"

"On the twenty-fifth."

"Mrs. Mitch.e.l.l accompanies you?"

"Of course. You scarcely understand what all this means to me. I have no life outside of father's. His political future is my sole horizon. To help, follow close, watch his ascent, was my world. This sudden, inexplicable surrender, this stepping down and back into obscurity and inaction leave me no foothold on coming years, and I feel adrift. Mr.

Noel, would it be unreasonable for me to hope that when father returns in vigorous health a Cabinet seat or a foreign mission might be offered him by the Republican party he has served so long, so faithfully?"

The wistful pathos of uplifted eyes that searched his stirred all the tenderness of his nature, but he allowed himself no manifestation.

"If you antic.i.p.ate such reward for your father, and then lose it, disappointment would intensify the annoyance. By dismissing the expectation, the charm of surprise will be added to the value of promotion. You have pa.s.sed the age of soap bubbles, and ought to know that upon political preferment no man can depend with certainty, especially in a republican country."

"I shall not, will not, accept defeat. I must be patient until next year, and then, somehow--in some way--we shall recover our kingdom. I am so proud of father--ah, so proud!"

She rose, and he put out his hand to a.s.sist her, but she crossed the stile without touching his fingers, and they silently approached the courtyard.

At a late hour, when the party dispersed, Judge Kent was the first person who reached his own room. Soon after, Eglah tapped at his door.

As he opened it, a flood of light streamed over her cold, proud face, and his keen gaze seemed to probe her soul.

"Well?"

She shook her head and stretched her arms towards him.

"Father----"

He laid a finger heavily on her trembling lips, then turned her around, pushed her gently but firmly back from the threshold, and locked the door on the inside.

The remaining hours of the night Mr. Herriott spent pacing slowly the beach-walk, realizing anew the hopelessness of any change in conditions that barred him from his heart's desire, and the wisdom of his determination to travel as far as possible. The moon, magnified by mist into a vast sphere of silver, swam in the west, tipping each wavelet with a glittering fringe, and now and then crooning whispers of the great expanse of water seemed to swell and fill the echoing hollows of the brooding night.

The intense bitterness of Mr. Herriott's reflections crept into his voice.

"Loyal soul! n.o.body can help her now. Rude winds have blown wide the guarded gate of her temple, and she will spend her life on her knees, trying to regild the clay feet of her one image."

CHAPTER XIV