Comrades Part 36

This cliff was one of the numerous headlands which thrust their peaks in almost perpendicular lines sheer into the ocean.

They sat for an hour and drank in the peace and solemn grandeur of the infinite blue expanse.

"What a little world, the one in which we live down there and fret and fume," he whispered. "The one we think so big when in the thick of the fight! We forget the dim expanse of ocean kissing ocean--encircling the earth--of the skies that kiss the sea and lead on and on into those great silent deeps where a universe of worlds roll in grandeur!"

"Yet isn't man greater than all these worlds?" she asked, with sudden elation.

"If he is a man, yes; a real man with the conscious divine power in his soul which says, I will! Isn't that the only power worth having?

The herd of cattle we call men, whose souls have never spoken that divine word of character and of action--are they men? Have they souls at all? Is it worth the while of those who have to fret and fuss and fume trying to make something out of nothing?"

Barbara turned suddenly, looked into Norman's eyes, and asked in anxious tones:

"What do you mean?"

"That I'm thinking of giving up this experiment."

"Now that you are just making it a marvellous success?"

"But is it a success? What is the good of achievement for any community if that achievement springs from the will of one man? If their souls are in subjection to his, has he not degraded them? Is life inside or outside? Are we Socialists not struggling merely with what is outside? Are we not in reality struggling back into the primitive savage herd out of which individual manhood has slowly emerged? I'm puzzled. I'm afraid to go on. I've asked you to come up here to-day to tell me what to do."

Barbara's breath came quick.

"You wish me to decide the momentous question of our colony? Perhaps the future of humanity?"

"Yes, just that. You are a woman. Women know things by intuition rather than by reason. I'm growing more and more to believe that we only know what we feel. I trust you as I would not trust my own judgment just now. I'm going to ask you, in the purity and beauty of your woman's soul, to read the future for me. I'm going to allow you to decide this question. Feel with me its difficulties and its prospects, trust utterly to your own intuitions, and you will decide right."

Barbara began to tremble and her voice was very low as she bent toward him.

"Why do you trust me with the greatest question of your life with such perfect faith?"

He took her hand, bowed, and kissed it.

"Because, Barbara, I love you," he whispered with pa.s.sionate tenderness.

The girl looked away and smiled while her heart beat in an ecstasy of triumph.

"And this is one of the things that has puzzled me most," he went on, rapidly. "Every hope and dream my soul has cherished of you has been at war with this scheme of herding men and women together. I want you all my very own. I want to seize you now in my arms and carry you a thousand miles away from every vulgar crowd on earth. A hundred times I've been on the point of telling you that I love you, but I drew back and sealed my lips. It was treason to the Cause. For how can this cause of the herd be one with the heart-cry of the man for the one woman on earth his mate? I've tried to reconcile them, but I can't.

Come, dearest, you are my n.o.bler, better self, the part of me I've been searching for and have found. You must answer this cry for light and guidance. Your voice shall be to me the voice of G.o.d. Shall I go back to the faith of my fathers in the old world, and will you come with me--my wife, my mate, my life? Or shall we remain here, and hand in hand fight this battle to a finish? The one thing that is unthinkable is that I shall lose you. I lay my life at your feet. Do with it as you will."

Barbara tried to speak and a sob choked her into silence. She lifted her head at last and spoke timidly.

"I thought it would be easy. But I find it very, very difficult--this settling the destiny of a man. Of one thing I'm sure. You must not give up this work."

"I'll sign the deeds of transfer to-morrow," he interrupted.

The girl's eyes opened in wonder and a feeling of awe stole into her heart.

"You trust me so far?" she asked, brokenly.

"Yes."

"Then I must speak softly, must I not? I must weigh every word. You frighten me----"

"I'm not afraid. You are the woman I love."

"How long have you loved me?" she asked, studying him curiously.

"Always, I think. Consciously since the day I tore that flag down on our lawn."

"And yet you drew away from me at times."

"Yes. I felt the irrepressible conflict between this ideal and my desires. Your voice called me to the work. I determined to put the work to the test first----"

"And I was the inspiration behind your faith and daring leadership?"

"Always."

"You haven't asked me if I love you?" Barbara said, after a pause.

"I've been afraid."

"Why?"

"Because I don't think you are yet conscious of the meaning of love."

"And yet you place yourself absolutely in my power?"

"Absolutely. I love you and I have not made a mistake."

"Frankly, then, I don't know what love means. In my heart of hearts I've always been afraid of men----"

"You're not afraid of me?"

"After to-day--no, I don't think I will be."

"You have made me very happy," he cried joyously. "Come, we must hurry back now. I'm going to make out the deeds to-night and place them in your hands to-morrow morning."

Scarcely a word was spoken as they descended the mountain. She had gone up in the morning a laughing girl, conscious of her beauty and its cruel power, and determined to use it. She came down a sober little woman with a great, wondering question growing in her heart.

When Wolf met her with eager questions she answered as in a dream.

"He will deliver the deeds to-morrow?" he gasped in amazement.

"Yes, to-morrow," she answered mechanically.

CHAPTER XXVII