VOLINÈ.
Heavily chained and without food we were left in our old quarters until morning, not even the benefit of a light being vouchsafed to us. For this harsh treatment we had only Perodii to thank; indeed, it was highly improbable that the King had been apprised of our return, as we arrived at so late an hour. We passed the remainder of the night in miserable suspense, listening to the regular tramp of the guards outside, and saying little to each other.
"I hope, Graham, you now see the folly of your foolish intrigue with this woman. Had it not been for her we should never have incurred the anger and the hatred of this Prince Perodii; the King would have overlooked our killing Osa, and we should now be free," said the Doctor, with more irritation in his voice than we had ever heard before.
"Come, come, Doctor," answered Temple, "it's no use reproaching Graham; and this scoundrel of a Prince Perodii may yet go a little too far."
"But how can that help us? How can his downfall shake off our fetters? How can his evil fortune bring our release from captivity, or save us from death?" continued the Doctor, with a dogged determination to stick to his opinions on women in general.
"I'll back a woman's wit to find a way," Temple went on. "Volinè's dislike for this Perodii, and her partiality for Graham, will act as irresistible incentives to triumph over the man she despises, and save the other whom she loves."
"We have not had much evidence to confirm what you say, Temple," said the Doctor, as obstinately as ever.
"True," answered Temple; "but you cannot suppose that this girl has remained idle. Depend upon it, her royal father has had to put up with a good deal of coaxing and entreaty on behalf of her lover. She will be sure to take advantage of our escape from Remagaloth, and make the most of her time, unless she is very different from the girls of Earth. Perodii's absence from Edos, too, favours her efforts, and she will have had a clear field. Then there is this Echri——"
"Pray draw the line at the supernatural. This ring affair is not worth serious words—a lot of humbugging duplicity, shielded by religion. No! you will never convince me, Temple. As I said before, so I say again, women are the root of all mischief; and it is a thousand pities this Volinè ever became mixed up in our affairs."
"Well, well, Doctor, we won't argue further, it only makes unpleasantness."
All through this controversy Graham never uttered a word. He sat still in the darkest corner of the room, and only the occasional jingle of his brass fetters told us that he was awake. Secretly he enjoyed this conversation about his dear one. It was untold joy to him to be back again under the very roof that sheltered her, to be so close to her; and the hope of seeing her again gave him strength, and brightened the dark hours of his captivity. He never lost confidence in the beautiful girl who had made him happy by giving him her love; and he knew that he and his companions would neither be forgotten nor forsaken in their need. He would not provoke discord in their little band by argument with his good and worthy friend, Doctor Hermann, on the only topic on which they were bound to disagree. He preferred to sit in silence through the night, with glad thoughts of Volinè for his company. He had escaped what looked like certain death, he was back near the woman who was all-in-all to him; the very garden in which they had met and tasted the secrets of love was but outside the prison window; the dark hopeless future, which had appeared but a stormy plain of wild despair, stretching away, away unto death, seemed already tinged with the dawn of happiness! He knew Volinè's ring had already delivered him twice from great peril; and he felt, whatever danger might betide, the secret of salvation therefrom circled round his finger a sacred charm against death. That he could impart a little of this confidence in the virtues of his treasure to his comrades was his constant wish—not for his own sake, but for theirs. Yet all that he could say had been already said. The Doctor continued to pooh-pooh its efficacy; Temple was wont to smile and listen, half incredulous, yet impressed considerably by his earnestness. Each, however, required more palpable proof than that already given. "They forget," Graham continued to muse, as he lay listening to the Doctor and Temple talking, "that they are in a new world, beyond all earthly influence; and that the power of this holy Echri is mysterious and unnatural, only because it is new and strange to us. Were it rendered familiar to us by earthly custom and every-day experience, we should look upon it as a most natural thing. We must be prepared for all kinds of surprises here. If a great and holy man of this world possesses a power which is invested solely in God in our own, why should we marvel?"
As he sat musing thus the ring upon his finger suddenly glowed with great heat, and made him cry out in agony.
"Why, Graham, what is the matter?" said all three of his companions together.
"Nothing; it was a sudden spasm. I must have been dreaming. I am all right, I assure you," he answered, resolving to conceal the actual cause of his transient pain. "It seems like some manifestation of Echri's," he mused. "Well, I believe in his power, and have faith in his ring. I cannot help myself, I am compelled to do so." Then, speaking aloud, he continued:
"I hope you are not very greatly inconvenienced by these cursed fetters, my friends. The night is nearly spent, and I hope daylight will bring release."
"Mr. Graham, ha' ye no chance o' breakin awa'?" said Sandy. "These chains are uncommon heavy and tiresome."
"None this time, Sandy—I don't feel up to it; besides, they are stronger than they were before. Be patient till the morning, and then we shall see what turns up. Something good, I hope, for all our sakes."
Beyond a word or two of enquiry, first from one and then from another, as to how each was bearing up in misfortune, the remainder of the night was passed in silence. Sometimes we dozed, and woke again with a start of alarm, wondering where we were; then we lay and listened to the guards pacing to and fro outside our door, or the noise of the distant fountains in the garden of Siccoth. The time passed slowly enough, and by the dawn we felt terribly cramped and sore, owing to our being compelled to remain almost in one position the livelong night.
The sun had been up several hours before our prison door was opened, and food brought to us. Perodii came with the guards, and was again most insulting in his language.
"Let loose these dogs of Ramos for a little season, until they have eaten," he commenced, addressing the guards standing at the half-open door. Then turning to us, he exclaimed:
"Perodii hopes ye have all passed a pleasant night; they sleep safely who repose in chains. Now up and to your victuals; but methinks ye will not find them such dainty fare as when the traitor Kaosp provided them. By my soul, we will have no more of such nonsense! Prisoners ye are; and as prisoners shall ye be treated, so long as Perodii hath the charge of ye. And hark ye, no more shall that wanton wench, Volinè, or her gifts and favours, be admitted here! Guards, heed well my words; that man shall die who admits that forn——"
"Perodii! how darest thou utter such words concerning me, the daughter of thy King?" said Volinè, and she pushed the trembling guards aside and walked into the room, her cheeks scarlet with burning indignation, her eyes aflame with anger, and her hands clenched tightly to control her passion.
"What doest thou here, Volinè?" exclaimed Perodii, starting violently, and evidently ill at ease, but preserving with a mighty effort his usual air of bravado. "Meddle not with my affairs, or, by the living God, I will acquaint the King with thy brazen interference."
"What do I here? That is no business of thine. I come to set these prisoners free, and to conduct them to my father's presence, not as his captives but as his guests! Strike off those bonds and chains this instant, or the King's just wrath shall overtake thee. Guards! in the King's name Volinè commands ye! Strike off——"
"Stay!" shouted Perodii in a voice of rage, and pointing to the door. "Volinè, this is no place for thee! Get thee hence to thy apartment, and there wait thy father's pleasure."
"Braggart, hold thy peace! Volinè is no child, to be chid by thee. Thou hast enough to answer for! Go! The daughter of thy King hath bidden thee go!"
"And what if I refuse? These guards are my servants, and await my orders."
"Thy servants! Say the King's, thy master! Now guards, advance, and do my bidding——"
"Let a soldier stir, and he shall die!" shrieked Perodii, beside himself with passion.
"We obey thee, Volinè, even as we obey the King," said their captain, leading forward his men, and in a moment our fetters were struck off and we were free. Perodii, without another word, walked away, his face livid with rage and hatred.
"That mon bears us na guid-will, Mr. Graham," muttered Sandy, as we watched the discomfited prince hurry away.
Our lives had been full of eventful surprises, from the moment that we had descended upon the surface of this strange world, and this last unexpected change in our fortunes seemed one of the most wonderful of all. As yet, Volinè had not addressed a single syllable to any one of us; but a smile of ineffable sweetness stole over her handsome face, and blushes like as the tints of an opening rose glowed all unbidden on her cheeks as she glanced at Graham for an instant, and met the look of admiration and pleasure with which he was lovingly regarding her—her, his dear one, from whom he had been ruthlessly torn asunder and had now rejoined.
"Good Himos, thyself and thy comrades may now depart," said Volinè, addressing the captain of the guard. "I will myself conduct these men of Ramos to my father's presence. Thou hast nought to fear from thy disobedience of Perodii. From this hour must thou cease to take commands from him, until such time as it may be the King's, thy master's, pleasure to order otherwise."
Bowing low, Himos gave the word to his troops, who marched away, led by him, from our prison-chamber along the corridor, but in an opposite direction to that taken by Perodii. Volinè then advanced towards us with hands held out in welcome, and smiling sweetly said, in a voice from time to time trembling with emotion:
"Men of Ramos, no words that I can speak can say the sorrow that I feel for all the indignities and hardships ye have suffered since entering our royal city, Edos. My soul doth grieve within me at your unjust treatment from the hands of the King, my father; but his mind hath been poisoned and biassed against ye by him who brought ye here in chains, and sought your ruin, to gratify his own feelings of revenge. Since ye were so miraculously delivered from death at the crag Remagaloth, the King hath doubted the wisdom of his judgment on ye, and ye would at least have been free to go your way unmolested, had not Perodii prevailed upon the King to be allowed to take ye captives, to bring ye here again, and then to carry out the awful sentence of the Supreme Court himself! So far hath he been favoured, but his villainy is now unmasked; wiser counsel hath prevailed with the King. In bestowing upon ye, O distinguished and learned strangers from Ramos, his royal pardon, he offers ye his hospitality and protection, so long as ye may make this our world your home. But come now with me to his royal presence, and hear words of welcome and of freedom from his own lips. He waiteth to break his morning bread with ye.
"Stay thee: no thanks are asked or needed," continued Volinè, with upraised finger, as Temple began to speak, "for methinks it is I that have brought much trouble on ye. Besides, ye must be full of weariness and hunger, and it is not fitting or seemly that I should keep ye longer here." And as she spoke Volinè placed a tiny whistle, wrought in fine gold and set with gems, between her lips, and blew three times, short and shrill, thereon. In a few moments two court-marshals, dressed in quaint and costly garb, and with long white wands tipped with crescents of crystal, appeared, together with four of Volinè's female attendants, and stood in respectful silence by the doorway, bowing low as the King's fair daughter passed out, beckoning us to follow her.
"We hear from this Volinè only a few fragments of the reason for this change of opinion in our favour. She has left much more untold," whispered the Doctor to Temple, as they walked along side by side behind the marshals.
"True, Doctor," answered Temple in an undertone, "but I have no doubt that this royal maid has been pleading our cause with her old father, and that her strong attachment to Graham has lent eloquence to her oratory. The complete story of our pardon is reserved for his lucky ear alone."
"Say unlucky—most unlucky, Temple; for that woman's toils are creeping round him, and too late he will feel them hampering his ambition and retarding his progress."
"Doctor, I must really give you up as an incurable. Your ideas on women are out of all focus. Still, you must admit that a woman has rescued us from a terrible position——"
"Into which she alone plunged us. No, no, Temple. We shall never agree upon it—never!" and he relapsed into silence for the rest of the way.
We walked along corridor after corridor, through lofty halls, and up and down wide staircases crammed full of curious and costly gems of art, until it seemed as though the colossal palace was an endless maze of enchantment and voluptuous grandeur. At the foot of the last staircase Volinè and her maidens passed away through a lofty archway on the right, waving us a smiling farewell as she went, and we continued to follow the two marshals alone.
At the top of this last flight of stairs we reached another archway, hung with soft and heavy draperies, on either side of which stood a guard, so still and inanimate that he looked carved out of the stone itself. As we crossed the twenty paces or so of the landing, these sphinx-like soldiers, with a common impulse, flung the curtains wide apart, and we passed through into a magnificent banquet-chamber. The scene before us dazzled us with its splendour. We had thought to meet the King alone, perhaps with his daughter; but, instead, we saw him sitting at the head of a table, round which a hundred male guests were also seated, to whom a sumptuous feast was evidently about to be served. Five vacant seats, two on one, and three on the other side of the King, were empty, and to these, all travel-stained and grimy from the fight in the cave, we were conducted.
"Men of Ramos, we meet more happily than we parted. Welcome to our morning feast. Eat and refresh yourselves, and having done so we may then speak together," said the King, bowing and smiling graciously.
We each kept silence, but acknowledged the old King's cordial greeting with a respectful bow. Then the meal commenced, and was continued in solemn silence, course after course, until the last dishes had been removed, and huge bowls of wine-like liquid had been placed upon the table. Now the attendants withdrew, and shortly afterwards, from some hidden chamber, strains of sweet ravishing music poured in subtle cadence, and women's voices were heard singing a dreamy madrigal. Then came a solo in a woman's voice, more entrancingly beautiful than all the rest, rising and falling in matchless compass—a song that had for its theme the birth and trials and triumph of Love. Was this last sweet, hidden singer Volinè? And did she sing the story of her own tender passion? One of us at least was certain that the voice he heard was that of his beloved, and the words that wandered through the banquet-hall, like a hymn from Paradise, were addressed to him. Stirred to his soul's depth's, he listened, entranced, with throbbing pulses, to the message that was sung to him by a woman who was fashioned fairer than the cunningest conception of earthly man could picture!
At last the music ceased, the singer's voice was hushed, and amidst a death-like silence, which held the assembled guests in thrall, the King addressed us:
"Strangers from the star-world Ramos, having now broken your fast, it is my duty, here in the presence of my faithful Ministers of State, to explain to ye the reason of your welcome here as free men and honoured guests. All the terrible indictment against ye, with the exception of the killing of Osa, hath been proved to be false! I am satisfied that my daughter's honour and fair fame are as untarnished now as before ye came to Edos, and that a noble of our Court, by name Perodii, hath lied. The High Priest, Echri, hath also spoken favourably of ye, and your cause hath been ably pleaded by the wise men that dwell in our good city Helmath. My philosophers are learned in the science of the heavens, and they have said that the wondrous tale ye tell bears stamp of truth, and none of sorcery. That being so, we grant our royal pardon for the slaying of our subject Osa, believing that, as ye have already said, he brought his fate upon himself, and in expressing our sorrow for the great misery and hardships we have caused ye, we welcome ye as friends and brothers, and bid you remain in Edos as our guests so long as ye may have the wish. We regret we did not heed the words of the men of Helmath sooner, but Perodii's cunning made us ignore their counsel—and nought can kindle a father's wrath so readily, or feed its flame so well and warp his judgment, as the dishonour of his child. Perodii's guilt was only proved to me at yesternight; hence his treatment of ye. He now is deep in our displeasure, and his seat at our royal board is empty. Ye need fear him no more. Our heralds shall proclaim your pardon, and your entrance into royal favour, throughout all Edos, and then may ye wander in safety at your will."
"My comrades and myself rejoice heartily at the words you have spoken, O King of Gathma," said the Doctor. "Let peace and unity prevail between us, so that we may labour for the common weal of the children of your world and of ours. Glorious possibilities are before us; and that the intercourse between the peoples of two sister-planets, when once fairly established, may bring forth nothing but good, I feel sure will be echoed as heartily by your majesty and your people as by my companions and myself. We thank you, King of Gathma, for your clemency, and for the friendly sentiments you have just expressed, and will do our best ever to merit your friendship, your protection, and your hospitality!"
The Doctor's words were received with a salvo of applause from the brilliant gathering around us, and shortly afterwards the King left his seat, saying as he retired, followed by his Court, that he would meet us again in a few hours, after the business of State was over.
As soon as the King and his ministers had gone, servants arrived and conducted us to a suite of luxuriously fitted baths, where we made ourselves more presentable. Fortunately, each had donned an entirely new outfit before we deserted the Sirius, so that our task was by no means a difficult one. We were discussing our altered fortunes, after completing our toilet, when a marshal entered and, walking up to Graham, said with a low bow:
"Art thou Harry Graham?"
"I am; what is your pleasure?" he answered.
"Then Volinè would see thee. Follow me, and I will show thee to my mistress."
"Go and enjoy your well-deserved happiness," said Temple, in English; but the Doctor muttered something by no means complimentary to Volinè. Graham was too full of joy to feel angry with his old and eccentric friend, and thanking Temple for his good wishes, turned and followed his conductor. Once more he must furnish this portion of our narrative himself:—
"Leaving the saloon of baths, I followed my stately guide along a wide corridor, on either side of which was ranged statuary of priceless value, until we came to the wide staircase up which we had passed on our way to the banquet-chamber. Through an archway at the foot of this, I knew the way led to Volinè's apartments. At the bottom of this spacious stairway we met two of Volinè's maids, and here the marshal bowed and left me. These maidens then stepped forward, and each taking one of my hands, they bade me come with them, and so I was led into Volinè's presence.
"I found my darling in a magnificent chamber, where every luxury that art and ingenuity could devise assisted in making the whole harmonious and splendid. She was reclining on a low couch, draped with rich dark furs of silky softness, her flossy hair falling all free and unrestrained around her bust and shoulders, one shapely arm resting along the back of the couch, the other pillowing her lovely head. What incarnation of female beauty! was my single thought as I beheld her there in all her splendour; and for a moment I stood upon the threshold of her room, spell-bound between my maiden guides, dazzled and bewildered by the vision of perfectness before me. With a smile for which any man would cheerfully have sold his soul, she rose into a sitting posture, saying:
"'Cyni, thou and thy sister may now leave.'
"Neither of us spoke nor moved further until the two maids had gone, leaving me standing as in a dream, watching the sweet picture before me. Then Volinè rose to her feet, and with smiles and blushes lending an added charm to her countenance, came towards me, murmuring my name! The spell was broken; and oblivious to aught else, I ran forward and clasped her in my arms again.
"'Oh, Volinè, Volinè! my darling; this is rapture indeed. How good of you to send for me thus!'
"'Happy do I feel to have thee with me again,' she answered, as her head sank nestling on my breast.
"We kissed each other's lips, and together we drank the cup of our joy to the dregs in one long, intoxicating draught, without a single drop of bitterness to taint its sweetness.
"But why dwell on the ecstasy of our embrace and of our meeting, after so much terrible sorrow? I led her unresistingly to the couch she had so lately left, arranged the fallen furs around her, and sat me down by her side. There, with one arm around her waist, and with my eyes feasting upon the beauty of her face and form, we conversed of all that had befallen us since last we talked together and parted in the garden Siccoth, on that dreadful night before Remagaloth. We talked those lovers' trifles, so sweet and apt when spoken, yet so cold and passionless and uninteresting when read by others unconcerned.
"Then Volinè told me of all that had happened on the night we parted, as we thought for ever. How all her efforts were in vain; how she had visited Echri and been comforted in her despair; how he had promised to intercede with the King. How he came too late; and how she spent the time that we were at Remagaloth praying fervently for our salvation. She told me of her joy when the news of our wondrous escape was brought to Edos; of Echri's visit to the King; and of how the high and mighty priest had exerted his power, and delivered us from an unrighteous doom!
"'Daily since then, dear Harry,' she told me amidst sobs and smiles, 'have I pleaded thy cause with my father; beseeching him to spare thee and thy companions; to discredit Perodii's words, and to lend ear to the utterances of the great and good Echri, and the men of Helmath. I besought him to let ye go your way in peace, and not to cherish feelings of revenge and hatred unworthy of a mighty king. But all I could say availed me nothing definite. He felt keenly the disgrace and humiliation in the Hall of Justice, and his heart was still hardened towards ye, although I could perceive his mind was wavering, until driven to desperation I told my father the naked truth.'
"'And what may that truth have been, darling?' I whispered, seeing her hesitate, with heart beating fast within me, and with the long-cherished hope that she had told the King of her love for me, and that royal favour had smiled upon my suit.
"'Dost thou press me to answer, Harry?'
"'Indeed I do, my bonny one.'
"'But, mayhap, my words will cause thee pain!'
"'Not more than the suspense and anxiety I now suffer, until I hear them, sweet one,' I answered, with faltering hope, dreading, yet eager to hear her reply.
"'Then hearken to my words, and interrupt me not until I have told thee all. I doubt me not that thou hast remembrance of Perodii's conduct in Siccoth, and of the lying words he then did speak. From that night, until the day of thy trial and sentence, he used his knowledge of our stolen interview as a power of evil and annoyance against me. His threats to make my honour the common gossip of the streets of Edos bound my tongue to silence, for we women of Gathma dread to have our fame tossed to and fro upon the breath of scandal. And so he forced his unwelcome attentions upon me. I bore them, Harry, for thy sake; for he gave me solemn assurance that my meeting with thee should be told to no man, and that he would seek to save thee!'
'Darling! by the——'
"'Nay, interrupt me not, Harry,' she continued, placing a finger on my lips. 'Thou knowest how he broke faith with me, and lied before my father and a hundred thousand dwellers of Edos, and what woe his words have wrought. He lied because his passion found no favour in my sight, and because the King seemed in clement mood towards ye; and well dost thou know the evil of his words. I told thee of my father's wrath, and how he heard me without relenting, when last I met thee in the garden. After thy trial and sentence, Perodii sought by threats to make me yield unto his wish, and mate with him, but rather would I spill mine own blood than be his wife. He even dared to attack me yet a second time, on the night of thy escape from Remagaloth, and by cunning artifice entered my chamber, where I prayed for thee! Cyni, by great good fortune, chanced to be with me——'
"'By the living God, Volinè, Perodii shall answer to me for this,' I said, in a voice that echoed the anger and hatred burning in my soul.
"'Hush! and hear me on. I have but little else to tell thee. Seeing that he had been witnessed by Cyni he sped away, telling me that he was starting from Edos that night to take thee prisoner again, and carry out himself the sentence that had been pronounced upon thee. I held my peace, hoping that some evil might overtake this Perodii in his search, and praying that his quest might be vain; until I heard from a hunter noble, by name Kios, that ye had struggled valiantly near Helmath, yet had been overcome, and were being carried back to Edos. Then I told my father all, and proved my words by good Cyni's aid. Great was his wrath at the manner in which Perodii had duped him, and quickly did he take steps to protect and befriend ye, as ye have already seen.'
"'But why not have told your father all this long ago, darling?'
"'My father hath many cares, and much business of State to do, and I did not like to add to his troubles.'
"'But this Perodii; what punishment will be meted out to him? Surely, he merits death for so insulting the daughter of his King.'
"'Harry, our laws are not thy laws; our customs in Gathma are not like those in Ramos—Earth, as it is called by thee. Know thee, that even the King hath no power to put to death a noble of Perodii's rank. He can but depose him from Court——'
"'But Kios, whom we met near the city of Pamax, told us that for some offence he had been condemned to die, and only saved his life through the clemency of the King.'
"'Ah! I also heard yesterday from worthy Kios of your stay with him in the woods of Theloth, and wish him well. But Kios was not of such noble rank as Perodii, who in station is next to the King.'
"'That shall not prevent his reckoning with me, Volinè. The day shall yet come when I will make him confess as publicly that his words were lies, as when he spoke them in your father's Judgment Hall.'
"'Heed him not, O Harry; let him go his own evil way. Cross not his path a second time, or he may do thee harm, and I——'
"'Should what, dear one?' I asked as I kissed her forehead.
"'Should never cease to grieve for thee; she answered, nestling closer to me, and gazing into my face with her splendid eyes.
"'But I have no fear of such a coward as he; and by the customs of the Earth I long have left, I swear he shall answer for his added insults on you.'
"'Harry, Harry, dost thou not care for me enough to obey me? Thou dost! Then let Perodii rest in the deep disgrace into which he hath already fallen. By the customs of Edos, methinks no greater punishment could be given him. And now thou must leave me.'
"'But when may I see you again, darling? To-night? Yes, say to-night, and in the garden Siccoth, by the arbour where you first met me.'
"'Well, thou hast my promise. Now haste thee to thy comrades, for the hour hath arrived when my maids do come to me.'
"'May the hour soon come, my darling, when we shall never have to part again,' I said to her, unable longer to control my feelings.
"'What meanest thou?'
"'I will tell you, my precious one, in Siccoth's arbour, where, at sunset, I shall wait in weariness until you come,' I answered, as I kissed her again and again, before tearing myself away from her white, encircling arms.
"Once more three blasts were blown by Volinè upon that golden whistle, and almost immediately Cyni and her sister entered, and conducted me to the foot of the staircase, where I found the marshal waiting to escort me back to my companions.
"I found them in one of the smaller rooms of the Palace, happy enough, and full of what they had been doing during the morning that I had spent with Volinè. Temple had been amusing himself in wandering from room to room of this wonderful Palace, passing his time in admiring the costly and beautiful works which adorned its interior; all of them new and strange, and like nothing to be found in the palaces of Earth. The Doctor and Sandy had walked abroad into the streets and squares of Edos, and were full of the curious scenes and customs they had witnessed, and the strange types of architecture they had seen. Everywhere they had been treated with respect, although much curiosity was excited by their appearance and movements."
"I was just telling Temple that Edos would scarcely suit a man of his commercial instincts," remarked the Doctor to Graham as he entered the room. The Doctor had quite recovered his good temper, and the walk abroad had put him in the best of spirits. "What do you think of a city where there are no shops, nor marts of business? Edos is a centre of luxury—a dwelling-place of the noble and those of high degree. None of its inhabitants toil or trade therein. It is an ideal city; smokeless, noiseless—a repository for the best and brightest results of the brain and genius of a world, and a gathering-place for its cultured people," continued the Doctor, led away by his enthusiasm. "I want a hundred hands, Graham, to chronicle all I have seen. My one regret is that my life will not be long enough to do justice to this glorious world, or to describe its endless wonders."
And so the afternoon slipped away in pleasant, entertaining chat, varied by a light meal, which was served to us al fresco by two of the Palace servants. In the early evening the Doctor, Temple, and Graham dined with the King—another sumptuous feast, at which the old monarch made himself especially agreeable, and never seemed to tire of hearing us recount our journey across the heavens, and tell of the world we had left. Curiously enough, no ladies were numbered among the guests; but this and the morning feast, we learned afterwards, were State banquets, at which it is not etiquette for females to appear. Graham—unknown, of course, to all the rest—chafed exceedingly under the long and almost endless interrogations of the King; for he thought of the tryst he had to keep with Volinè. Already the sun was sinking low in the western sky; and he was all impatience to hasten away. At last the meal was finished, and the brilliant gathering of nobles and ministers rose from the table, and separated into groups to carry on a friendly conversation. In the confusion Graham managed to slip away unobserved, but took Temple into his confidence before doing so, who promised to make excuses for him, if his absence chanced to be noticed by the King.
"I left the banquet-hall just as the King and the Doctor were eagerly engaged in a discussion upon the civilised forms of government on Earth, slipping out unperceived, and hurrying along the corridor towards the staircase that led down to a lower corridor, to which I knew there was an entrance to the garden of Siccoth-trees. I was just about to open this door, stooping down to examine the fastening thereof, when the hated voice of my rival, Perodii, hissed into my ear the following words:
"'Spawn of evil, we meet again! How often more art thou going to cross my path and live? Beware, or by my eternal soul I will slay thee even here.'
"'Prince Perodii, I desire to have no further intercourse with you, and I waste precious time in answering your vulgar words.'
"'So, so; that wanton wench, Volinè, waits thee. My curse upon her for meddling——'
"Perodii never finished his sentence, for without thinking of the consequences of my act, and forgetting in my passion what I had promised Volinè, I gave the Prince a stunning blow full in the face with my clenched hand, and sent him reeling to the ground.
"'Take that; and may it teach you better manners,' I said, as I delivered the blow straight from my shoulder. 'And, hark you,' I continued, as he lay half-stunned upon the mosaic floor, 'if you ever dare to speak one more insulting word in my hearing, about the woman I love, may your worthless blood be upon your own head, for I will slay you as I would a brute beast.'
"The Prince by this time had recovered his feet, and stood mad with pain and rage, half blinded by the blow I had dealt him, and unsheathing the long knife that dangled in a jewelled scabbard from his waist. What the end would have been it is difficult to conjecture, but at that moment our good friend Himos came along with a posse of troops, at sight of whom Perodii sheathed his weapon and walked away, saying as he did so:
"'The hour of my revenge is yet again delayed; but I will wait, aye, wait for centuries yet to come, if need be, and wipe out all thy insults in thy blood.'
"Nodding to Himos, I sped through the doorway into the garden, and hurried along between the rows of curious shrubs and flowers towards the arbour where Volinè had promised to meet me. Already the sun was dipping behind the distant hills, and I feared that my darling might have come, and not finding me there, had gone away again.
"The arbour was empty, and just as I saw it on that fateful night that seemed already sunless ages gone. I sat me down on the seat where we had embraced; then I walked to and fro along the path that her dear feet had trod, scarcely able to control my impatience as the day fell slowly into night and Volinè came not. Had harm befallen her? Then terrible thoughts of Perodii's mad vengeance floated through my brain, and I cursed myself for not killing him outright, and thus preventing him from working her evil. At last my ear caught footsteps sounding on the pathway, clearer and clearer in the still evening air. Then she for whom I waited came from out of the shadows towards me, and in another moment my sorrow was changed to joy as I folded her in my arms.
"'I fear I have kept thee waiting, but a disturbance in the Palace has caused me delay. Perodii hath lodged complaint against thee for striking him without cause, and my father is annoyed and angry that such a vulgar fray should have taken place under his roof. Perodii now hath no business within our royal house, and my father refused to hear more of his words. Harry, why didst thou not keep thy promise to me, and leave this man alone?'
"'Volinè, he is a coward and a liar. He alone is in the wrong, and thrust himself upon me as I came hither. He insulted you, and I struck him to the ground in my passion; but I am sorry now, for I have offended you. But pardon and forgive me, dear one, and let nothing come to mar our happiness. I will see the King anon, and tell him the simple truth. Come! kiss me, and make me happy again.'
"'Thou dost not deserve it, Harry; but there—' and as she kissed me she continued, 'And now heed my wishes better in future, or my forgiveness will be more slowly given, I promise thee.'
"And so this little cloud above our happiness drifted away, and we enjoyed all the sweets of each other's company to the full. I was determined now, to-night, to ask Volinè to be my wife. In spite of our differences of race, and inequality of rank and station, I resolved to tell her of my passion, and to hear my fate.
"'Volinè,' I whispered, as I drew her gently and yet closer to me—'Volinè, do you not know that I love you more passionately than ever mortal man has loved before? Do you not know that you have brought brightness into my life, and have taken that place in my heart which only one woman can ever fill?'
"'But wilt thou always love me so?'
"'Always, darling; always—until the race of my life is run, and all power of loving is stayed by the hand of death. Here, in this arbour, I swear it. By my home world yonder, and all that I hold dear thereon—see you, glimmering as a star above the tree-crests in the southern sky—I pledge to love and to worship you, Volinè, so long as I have life to love, and breath to speak it. Volinè, you are all in all to me; my first love and my last. Without you, life is but another name for pain; with you, bright and radiant joy for ever. I am yours, and you are mine. Volinè, be my wife. Crown my happiness to-night by saying "Yes."'
"'Stay, Harry; thy last words have brought a strange and unknown pain to my heart, and revealed the misery that is now before me whichever way I answer thee. Harry, the sweets of wifehood with thee are a joy which I may never hope to reach. There is one barrier that must ever stand between us, which maketh impossible a union between a son of thy world and a daughter of mine. It hath been so ordained, and therefore we cannot alter it to meet our will. This barrier of which I speak is the span of life. Here, as thou knowest there are old men amongst us who have seen five hundred summers whiten into winter. Four hundred years are the men of Gathma's usual span, even as thou hast told me but seventy are the limit of the men of Earth and thine. I am but five and twenty summers—comparatively in childhood, yet—and for fifty summers more I shall enjoy the sweets of youth. Thou art in the middle of thy tiny course, and in a few more years will reach the close of thy allotted span. Think then of my time of endless widowhood, sadly mourning for thee; yearning for the love I tasted, only to lose. Were I to wife with thee, my short happiness would ever be clouded by its early end! It must not, cannot be!'
"'Volinè, your words blot out all brightness from my heart, which now feels turned to stone. All now is dismal woe again—woe without a ray of hope, and there is naught but death before me to free me from my pain. Without you I cannot, will not, live, for life would be but a living death of dark despair. Is there no hope for me? No hope, Volinè dearest? Am I but to review this promised land of happiness from afar off, only to turn my face away from its green pastures for ever? Ah, no, it is too horrible!'
"'My poor Harry, it is as hard for me as for thee; for I love thee as a woman only loves when she doth love, that is with all her soul. No hope can lighten our darkness or leaven our sorrow. Yet, stay! There is one way—one only; but, alas! it is all too terrible—too terrible to speak.' And here she burst into a passionate fit of sobbing, and clung tightly to me, stricken down with grief.
"I soothed her as best I could, and dried her hot tears with my own parched lips, sighs of agony meanwhile breaking unbidden from my own heart, and big beads of sweat rolling off my forehead like drops of molten pain.
"'Speak, my darling, speak unto me,' I implored. 'Give words unto your thoughts, and let me know and share them. Volinè, speak? or my heart will burst with its heavy weight of woe.'
"Then, mingled with her sobs and moans of anguish, she spoke to me thus:
"'Harry, thou canst purchase happiness, but the price thou wilt have to pay is as costly as it is terrible! I have heard that Holy Echri hath the power of prolonging life, of endowing mortal man with forces that rejuvenate. The ordeal is awful. It is one of fire! To him who would so prolong or purchase life, the penalty is that he shall suffer all the horrors of death by fire. I know not the secrets of the mystic rite; but I will question Echri on the morrow. Doth it not seem unholy? And yet; and—yet—love—is—sweet——'
"'Volinè, your words bring new hope to my heart. If Echri possesses this wondrous power, then will I prove my love for you in his fires. His furnace shall but burn the dross of my love away, but refine it into a yet purer passion!'
"'Oh, Harry; how brave and how noble thou art! Thy calmness gives me confidence. If thou hast will and courage to pass through this fire for me, then surely shalt thou be rewarded by calling me thine own—that is, provided my father hath no obstacle to urge against our union. But, brave one, the hour is already late, and we must return. Meet me here to-morrow even, at setting sun, and I will bring thee news from Echri. Until then, adieu.'
"'Courage, courage, Volinè, my darling. All shall yet be well,' I whispered to her, as we walked along the garden-paths towards the Palace; and then planting kiss after kiss upon her willing, desire-athirsted lips, and snowy brow, I released her from my arms, and she went away.
"Love runs no smoother here, in Gathma, than on Earth, I mused, as I walked along the brilliantly-lighted corridors, thinking over the events of the past hour. A great and indefinable awe seemed creeping through every fibre of my body, as I thought and thought over the ghastly pledge I had just given, tempted by the vision of beauty in my arms. Did I regret my hasty, passionate vow? I now asked myself in cooler moments. No, no, a thousand times no, I mentally answered my own question; for if the way to my own happiness lies through fire, through fire I am thoroughly prepared to go."
[Here in the original MS. follows a long account of a scientific nature, which, though of the greatest importance to philosophers, might not be of sufficient interest to the general reading public. I have therefore deemed it expedient to omit this portion of the narrative, and keep as closely as possible to the fortunes of Harry and Volinè.—ED.]