SCENE II.
Dull daylight falls upon a wide and desolate expanse. This has the appearance of a desert—unbroken and arid. The horizon is low and heavy with cloud, and is defined by a tossing sea-line against which no sail appears. In the distance are cliffs, fissured by dark cuts, but these are far away, and the foreground is flat like sand or ashes, or it might be corrugated like slag. There is no vegetation visible, and no sign of organized life.
Enter Dr. Thorne. (He paces the sands, mournfully gazing about him at the lonely scenery. He murmurs, then raises his voice rhythmically, like one who quotes from an uncertain memory.)
Dr. Thorne.
“A life as hollow as the echo in a cave
Hid in the heart of an unpeopled world.”
Where did I get that? Oh, I remember. I had not thought of it for years. That woman used to quote it to me. She was the most consistent infidel I ever knew. She shied at nothing; took the consequences, both living and dying.... A shocking death, though! I suppose the boy is all right with Mrs. Fayth and that little chum of his. If it hadn’t been for that discussion with Harvey I shouldn’t have left him. Wishing seems to be doing, in this singular state of existence. A man makes a simple astronomical inquiry about a planet, and forthwith he is in the planet. Remarkable! (Breaks off; continues.) How magnificent Helen was about that affair. If she had doubted me—but she never did. She was superb.
Enter an Evil Spirit. Her garments
are of flame color. Her hair has the
same tint. On her forehead blazes a
single scarlet star. Her appearance
is queenly and confident. As she reveals
her face, it is seen to be that of
the woman whose wraith has followed
Dr. Thorne at intervals ever since
the hour of his death. Her robe,
which is opaque, reveals her bare
arms and feet, but covers her shoulders
and bosom with a certain modesty,
which is felt at once to be not
wholly natural to the woman. Each
footprint that she makes upon the
sand is marked by a small jet of
flame, which flares after she has
passed, and dies down quickly. Dr.
Thorne stares at the woman in evident
and not well-pleased perplexity.
The Woman (speaks). So? Am I forgotten on first principles? It is some years since we had the pleasure of meeting.
Dr. Thorne (coldly). I begin to recognize you, Madam.
Cleo. You did not know it, but I have given you several other opportunities to do so since you died.