“I am very, very sorry for him!” whispered Isabella, turning to me; but she listened to Regan as if he had authority. I wondered why! What possible regard could that wealthy, beautiful girl of high caste have for that vagabond Regan?
Then I remembered that caste was gone. We were transferred to the Age of Stone. We could select a cave, build a hearth of rocks, fry a fish and sleep. Wake, fry more fish; after years enough had passed we could die! Horrible!
I rose and walked about to wake myself. It might be all a dream. It must be all a dream!
In the sunlight above the clouds I saw Father Renaudin standing upon the summit of a peak. His white hair was blown on the wind; it looked like silver.
Isabella had not spoken one word of regret. There was no sorrow in her eyes, no apprehension in her manner. She was as composed as if the inevitable had occurred.
Father Renaudin and I blamed Regan, and we had expressed our blame in strong words. She said nothing. I went to her side and said to her:
“How can you be so quiet? Do you realize your fate, your loneliness?”
“It is worth loneliness to be the only woman in a world!” she replied.
The cold, hopeless acceptance of her tone shocked me immeasurably. Another thought! True, a world was in our possession!
The sun had passed the noon mark when Father Renaudin came down the hills. A wonderful peace was on his face; a strange delight was in his eyes.