And while she slept, one should remember the season when these events occurred—during the early autumn, the period when summer changes and a purer radiancy obtains in nature. The compensations of age in the year supplied the “unthought-of deficiencies of an ardent past.”
Luna, the Italian goddess, was also visiting Olympus at this time. She was behind a cloud during the pranks of Boreas and Neptune, but overheard the conversation between Adele and Miss Winchester, and her appeal to Adele that the lovers’ quarrel should be settled before she sank beneath the horizon touched her pride as a goddess. Luna was generally considered cold and purely philosophic and at times artistic in relation to lovers, but when in her march across the heavens her pride and power were touched or called in question, she could see very clearly and influence coming events with great force. In fact all the tides in mundane revolutions were affected by Luna.
Being a great personal friend of Aphrodite, the two goddesses put their heads together and approached Zeus. The very sight of two such exquisitely beautiful creatures of his own creation, embodying both philosophy and love in league towards one accomplishment, proved eminently effective. Their anthropomorphous paternal progenitor, as usual, listened to their request and granted it, his reason for so doing being markedly paternal in its character. In order to keep peace in the family while strangers were looking on, Zeus directed Neptune to cease his uproarious behavior, and sent Zephyr to take the place of Boreas. Zephyr, well known as the mildest and gentlest of the sylvan deities, was only too glad of the opportunity to take his family for an outing at the seaside. He and the little Zephyrs played with ripples on the waves like children enjoying themselves on the beach, while Mrs. Zephyr waved the tree branches to and fro when fanning herself in a hammock beneath. Thus, while Boreas scudded off with the heavy clouds from above, the Zephyr family wafted in gentle and delicious breezes below.
Luna looked down, smiling at intervals between clouds, at the result of her visit to Zeus, and her open countenance, often mistaken for that of a man, assumed the likeness of a cameo goddess.
While this went on Paul, on deck, was watching the heavens clearing after the storm, the breaking away of the clouds, the falling of the wind, the quieting of the sea. Through rifts in the sombre sky he caught glimpses of a silvery glow in the mysterious depths, the glow became a radiancy, and darker clouds hurried by in troops, their places taken by delicate draperies, gauze-like, upon which the silvery light played in form of a halo.
This celestial scenery riveted Paul’s attention. As the last shadow-cloud passed away the gauze-like draperies also receded from view, as a veil withdrawn from before a beautiful face.
Luna of Italy—Queen of the Night—shone forth.
Paul, keenly susceptible and appreciative, became absorbed in admiration, but such his mood at this time that never before had he been so affected by the moon’s glory.
“Our harvest moon at home,” thought he, “the merrymaking moon for lads and lassies, so they say. I like it better for yachting; no, I don’t, either;—the cozy twosing moon when one feels like confiding after the day’s work is done. Yes, I feel just that way—in some one we love best: Yes, I think so, too. The moon which settles things before the winter comes on—the moon—the—confound it! that moon knows entirely too much! let me think for myself.” He imagined he heard a whisper putting his secret longings into words, and telling him he ought not to live alone—that is to say, not enjoying this moon alone—no! And off he started, as if something very urgent suggested itself.
It was Aphrodite who had whispered to him.