THE GATEWAY TO THE FUTURE
Every Sardanian hand in the great hall was uplifted in salute as five men entered through one of the pillared arches. Two of them were of bearded middle age, evidently persons of station in the land; but the eyes of the throng and the eyes of Rose Emer and Polaris passed them indifferently, to gaze on the three who followed.
It did not need the whisper of Kard the Smith, "He in the center is the prince," to distinguish the ruler of Sardanes. He was not more richly garbed than his companions, or differently. Neither was he taller than they, or of more commanding presence. All of the three were of great height, and all carried themselves regally. Something in the mien of his high-featured, thoughtful face, in his large black eyes, and in the lines of his smoothly shaven countenance bespoke his kingship as surely as though a herald had preceded him and cried out: "This is Helicon, Prince of Sardanes!"
The three were brothers, Helicon, the eldest, was well under thirty years. The two who walked on either side of him were of the startling likeness to each other found only in twins.
Surprise was written large on the features of all of the party as they came into the open space before the throne, and they halted. The two nobles stared frankly. The faces of the twin princes expressed a kindly curiosity, not unmixed with the general awe in which the Sardanians held the strangers. In the face of Helicon was a similar expression, but with less of awe and more of grave dignity.
His eyes roved over the pack of dogs, to him the most unusual figures of the group; hesitated in admiration at the splendid form of Polaris, and passed to Rose Emer.
As their glances met, the eyes of the prince opened wide, and seemed suddenly to become suffused. Then they snapped back to the face of Polaris, and seemed to carry a quick question. The son of the snows regarded him calmly; but there was in his calmness a challenge, the more deadly because of its quietude. His right hand, which rested on the neck of Marcus, contracted so powerfully that the dog whined in pain. Polaris knew that he had found an enemy.
Helicon swung on his heel and ascended the steps to the throne.
The nobles and the two tall princes took seats, and Kard the Smith, with the enthusiasm of the born orator, stood forth to tell his story.
"The man, sayest thou, cometh out of the snows, and speaketh our tongue?" interrupted Helicon in the midst of the tale.
"Even so, prince," said Kard.
"And the woman cometh from beyond, and speaketh not our language, but one of her own, which the man speaketh also? And the woman is a princess in her own land?"
"That, O prince, is true!"
"Then cease though thy tale, Kard, and let us hear from the man in our tongue, of himself and of the princess, and of how they came hither."
With little relish for such cutting short of his bombast, Kard the Smith stood back and yielded the floor to Polaris.
In a few words the man of the snows sketched the chances which had brought the girl and himself to Sardanes.
"Then thou wert reared in the great wilderness, and knowest naught of the world, or of Sardanes, or even of who thou thyself art?" questioned Helicon. His voice was even and courteously intoned; but, though the man he questioned was of little experience, Polaris understood the sneer that lay in the words.
"So it seemeth, Prince Helicon," he answered quietly.
"And the woman thou didst find in the snows, she is a princess? I can well believe that."
"Nay, prince, for she cometh from America, a great land where there are no princes or princesses. Yet is she of high rank in her land, as her birth and wealth entitle her."
Helicon frowned. "How meanest thou—a land in which are neither princes or princesses?" he asked quickly. "How, then, are the people in that land ruled?"
"By the people themselves are the people ruled in America, O prince," Polaris answered. "The whole of the country and its lesser divisions are governed by men chosen by the people to rule for certain spaces of years, when others are chosen."
"Are there, then, no kings or princes in the world?" asked Helicon sharply.
"Aye, princes and kings rule in many of the lands of the world," answered Polaris, "but their power is limited more and more by the wishes of their people. In some other lands the government is like that in America."
"Truly, this America of which thou speakest must be a strange country. Here in Sardanes I hold the power of decision over life and death; aye, even unto the Gateway to the Future extendeth the power of Sardanes's prince."
"Yet," and the voice of Polaris rang like a bell—"yet, of all lands in the world, is America the greatest—and hath no prince or king."
Over the face of the prince passed a flush of annoyance. He waved his hand in dismissal of the conversation.
"Hospitality shall be thine, outlander of the snows. Thou shalt rest and be refreshed. More of thy strange tales will I hear anon. And the girl—" His eyes softened as they strayed again to Rose Emer, and again the red blood flashed up in his cheeks. For a moment he seemed lost in his thoughts.
All through the interview the young man in the black stone seat had sat motionless and attentive, his eyes glued on the strangers, his ears drinking in every word spoken by Polaris, his expression rapt. Now he arose and stepped forward. Before the Prince Helicon could speak again he interposed.
"If it be pleasing to the strangers, I, Kalin the Priest, will make them welcome at mine own home in the Gateway to the Future." Without waiting for the objection which the prince seemed to be framing, Kalin addressed himself directly to Polaris.
"Is the hospitality of Kalin welcome to thee, O man with the hair of the sun? Much there is that Kalin fain would learn from thee, and perhaps some little that he may tell thee in return. Say, wilt come, thou and the woman?"
Polaris looked into his eyes, and somewhere in their dreamy depths he thought he read more meaning than the words of the priest conveyed to him. He stepped forward and tendered his hand, a form of salutation which, although new to the Sardanians, Kalin accepted.
"Thy most kind offer of hospitality I accept for myself and for the lady," Polaris said. "She hath, I fear, much need of rest."
They left Helicon on the throne in the Judgement House, looking as if he liked the new arrangement little enough. As they passed out of the hall, five or six men, all dressed in somber black, detached themselves from the crowd of Sardanians and joined Kalin the priest. Under his direction they fetched the sledge and drove it toward the lower end of the valley, whither Kalin and his two guests followed.
On the way Polaris told Rose Emer of the meaning of the conversation in the hall, which she had understood only so much as she was able to guess from the demeanor of the prince and of Polaris. As they talked, Kalin, although their tongue was unknown to him, courteously walked ahead.
"They seem to be a happy people, but I don't think I'm going to like this prince of theirs," said Rose Emer when she heard the details of the talk. "And you, who never have seen America, have so defended it that you have put the gentleman out sadly. From what you have said to him, he will think that we have no very exalted opinion of princes. If he were not such a grave-looking personage I should think that he tried to flirt with me."
"What is the meaning of 'flirt,' lady?" asked Polaris.
Rose Emer's answer was a silvery laugh. "Sometimes, in your cold and snows, your knowledge makes me feel like a child; but when you get back to where I came from you will have a great deal to learn," she said lightly.
In spite of the privations and terrors through which she had passed, and the grief at the loss of her brother, the spirits of Rose Emer were rising amazingly in the warmth and sunshine of Sardanes. For all her lightness of speech, the girl could not but feel alarmed at the expression she had read in the eyes of the Prince Helicon, although she would not admit to Polaris that she had taken note of it.
They crossed the little bridge again and the plain beyond it, and began the ascent of the one green mountain that stood verdure-clad in strange contrast to its score of bleak-crowned sisters.
"What do they mean by the 'Gateway to the Future,' Polaris?" asked the girl.
Polaris, in turn, put the question to Kalin.
"It lieth before us," said the priest, pointing to the green mountainside. "Hast thou not noted that in all Sardanes no man or woman is old, or crooked of body, or diseased? When the first chills of age creep upon a Sardanian and bow his form and whiten his hair, then he cometh to me and passeth through the gateway. Thither likewise come the dead when one dieth in the land through a mischance or sudden illness. To me also are brought the babes that are misshapen at birth or that give promise of but puny life.
"To that which lieth beyond life, be it of glory or of oblivion, all Sardanians pass through the Gateway to the Future; and I, Kalin, am guardian to the gateway. The gateway itself shalt thou see anon."
Polaris translated. Rose Emer shuddered. "And I thought them such a happy people!" she said. "How can they be with such strange, terrible customs?"
Kalin, it seemed, had the trick of reading people's thoughts, for he answered:
"It hath been so almost from the first. When our ancestors peopled Sardanes they came to realize that for them to live on in the small land and remain a people their numbers must be limited. Thus hath it been done.
"Sardanians know of no other way, and are content therewith. Think of what is spared—terrible old age that creepeth on a strong man and decays him; that withers his limbs and fades the bloom of youth in his cheeks; of the horrors and distempers which make of life a misery and a mockery; of the sorrow of living on misshapen and helpless. In thy world do all such abide with thee?"
Polaris told him that in the world each one waited for his appointed hour of death, and that it was sin to hasten it for another or for oneself. The priest shrugged his shoulders.
Higher and higher they ascended the wooded slopes of the mighty hill, and came to a ledge many yards in width, so earthed and covered with vegetation and trees that it was like a huge terrace. There were a number of dwellings similar to those below in the valley. At the back of the terrace the side of the mountain was sheer for many feet and covered with vines.
In the center, at the level of the terrace, stood a giant façade of white stone, carved and scrolled and pillared. Through its arches they looked into the entrance to a lofty gallery in the heart of the rock.
Kalin ushered them into a room in one of the houses, and attendants fetched them fruits and bread with a sweet, unfermented wine. In another building near the edge of the terrace he showed Polaris a building, used as a stable for a number of the small ponies, where he might bestow the dogs; and at his word another of his servants brought both bread and flesh for the animals. When they were refreshed the priest led them to couch-rooms, bidding them to rest.
"Take thou thy rest well, man of the snows; there is much in thy path to try thee," he said to Polaris with a slow smile. Thinking on the enigma of his words, and of the wonders of the lost world, Polaris fell into the deep sleep which his body craved.