Foes Part 44

"Alexander?"

"Yes, it is I."

"The night is so still. I heard you coming a long way off. I have lighted a fire in the cave."

They entered it--the old boyhood haunt. All the air was moted for them with memories. Ian had made the fire and had laid f.a.gots for mending.

The flame played and murmured and reddened the walls. The roof was high, and at one place the light smoke made hidden exit. It was dead night. Even in the daytime the glen was a solitary place.

Alexander put down his cloak. He looked about the place, then, squarely turning, looked at Ian. Long time had pa.s.sed since they had spoken each to other in Rome. Now they stood in that ancient haunt where the very making of the fire sang of the old always-done, never-to-be-omitted, here in the cave. The light was sufficient for each to study the other's face. Alexander spoke:

"You have changed."

"And you. Let us sit down. There is much that I want to say."

They sat, and again it was as they used to do, with the fire between them, but out of plane, so that they might fully view each other. The cave kept stillness. Subtly and silently its walls became penetrable.

They crumbled, dissolved. Around now was s.p.a.ce and the two were men.

Ian looked worn, with a lined face. But the old brown-gold splendor, though dusked over, drew yet. No one might feel him negligible. And something was there, quivering in the dusk.... He and Alexander rested without speech--or rather about them whirled inaudible speech-- intuitions, divinations. At last words formed themselves. Ian spoke:

"I came from France on the chance that you were here.... For a long time I have been driven, driven, by one with a scourge. Then that changed to a longing. At last I resolved.... The driving was within--as within as longing and determination. I have heard Aunt Alison say that every myth, all world stories, are but symbols, figures, of what goes on within. Well, I have found out about the Furies, and about some other myths."

"Yes. They tried to tell inner things."

"I came here to say that I wronged folk from whom a man within me cannot part. One is dead, and I have to seek her along another road.

But you are living, breathing there! I made myself your foe, and now I wish that I could unmake what I made.... I was and am a sinful soul.... It is for you to say if it is anything to you, what I confess." He rose from the fire and moved once or twice the length of the place. At last he came and stood before the other. "It is no wonder if it be not given," he said. "But I ask your forgiveness, Alexander!"

"Well, I give it to you," said Alexander. His face worked. He got to his feet and went to Ian. He put his hands upon the other's shoulders.

"_Old Saracen!_" he said.

Ian shook. With the dropping of Alexander's hands he went back a step; he sat down and hid his head in his arms.

Said Alexander: "You did thus and thus, obeying inner weakness, calling it all the time strength. And do I not know that I, too, made myself a shadow going after shadows? My own make of selfishness, arrogance, and hatred.... Let us do better, you and I!" He mended the fire. "By understanding the past may be altered. Already it is altered with you and me.... I was here the other day. I stayed a long time.

There seemed two boys in the cave and there seemed a girl beside them.

The three felt with and understood and were one another." He came and knelt beside Ian. "Let us forge a stronger friendship!"

Ian, face to the rock, was weeping, weeping. Alexander knelt beside him, lay beside him, arm over heaving shoulders. Old Steadfast--Old Saracen--and Elspeth Barrow, also, and around and through, pulsing, cohering, interpenetrating, healing, a sense of something greater....

It pa.s.sed--the torrent force, long pent, aching against its barriers.

Ian lay still, at last sat up.

"Come outside," said Alexander, "into the cold and the air."

They left the cave for the moonlight night. They leaned against the rock, and about them hung the sleeping trees. The crag was silvered, the stream ran with a deep under-sound. The air struck pure and cold.

The large stars shone down through all the flooding radiance of the moon. The familiar place, the strange place, the old-new place.... At last Ian spoke, "Have you been to the Kelpie's Pool?"

"Yes. The day I came home I lay for hours beside it."

"I was there to-night. I came here from there."

"It is with us. But far beside it is also with us!"

"The carnival at Rome. When I left Rome I went to the Lake of Como. I want to tell you of a night there--and of nights and days later, elsewhere--"

"Come within, as we used to do, and talk the heart out."

They went back to the fire. It played and sang. The minutes, poignant, full, went by.

"So at last prison and scaffold risks ceased to count. I took what disguise I could and came."

"All at Black Hill know?"

"Yes. But they are not betrayers. I do not show myself and am not called by my name. I am Senor n.o.body."

"Senor n.o.body."

"When I broke Edinburgh gaol I fled to France through Spain. There in the mountains I fell among brigands. I had to find ransom. Senor n.o.body provided it. I never saw him nor do I know his name....

Alexander!"

"Aye."

"Was it you?"

"Aye. I hated while I gave.... But I don't hate now. I don't hate myself. Ian!"

The fire played, the fire sang.

Alexander spoke: "Now your bodily danger again--You've put your head into the lion's mouth!"

"That lion weighs nothing here."

"I am glad that you came. But now I wish to see you go!"

"Yes, I must go."

"Is it back to France?"

"Yes--or to America. I do not know. I have thought of that. But here, first, I thought that I should go to White Farm."

"It would add risk. I do not think that it is needed."

"Jarvis Barrow--"

"The old man lies abed and his wits wander. He would hardly know you, I think--would not understand. Leave him now, except as you find him within."

"Her sister?"

"I will tell Gilian. That is a wide and wise spirit. She will understand."