"Hast thou ever beholden a mother who would feed her infant thus?" Stepan asked the Captain, who looked as if his pipe had grown too hot for him; and the Captain knocked out his ash, and said, "Give me some cold whiskey."
"Lo, the moon is shining on the white peaks now, and the light will soon flow along the valleys. It is time for me to go," said Stepan, "and Allai will come with me. I have told the head-man what to do; but the men here are as nothing. Gentlemen, you are weary. The Lord give you good rest to-night, for to-morrow we must travel fast. I will bring every faithful son of the tribe, and meet you by noon at Karthlos."
CHAPTER LII STILL IN THE DARK
At midnight we stood by the door of the hut, and watched the broad bulk of Stepan, and the slender slip of Allai, sliding away into white breath among the black jaws of the mountains.
I thought that I had never seen so fair a night, so lovely, soft, and kindly, offering guidance of bright stars among the pale blandishments of the moon, opening avenues of lofty hope, compassionate to mortals. With such glory full in view, and the grandeur of unknown realms beyond, how could any of those, who have so short a time to dwell below, spend it, or spare a moment of it, in the trivial worm-casts of rank and money, which cannot even slime the scythe of death?
If Farmer Ticknor had been with us—that Ticknor, I mean, who had proved himself so trenchant a Micaiah to the Official Zedekiah—perhaps we might not have entered into this rapturous view of the heavens. Or perhaps it was that we required a lesson. But whatever the explanation is, the fact came far in front of it. When we tried to get up in the morning, there was nothing to get up by except time, who sheds no light, but spends the better part of himself in quenching it. Laden as we were with sleep, whose freight we had not yet discharged, we said to one another that a special relief was granted us. It was manifest that human skill in the record of time had been overruled; the Powers that govern day and night could not be set at nought by watchmakers. We blew out the matches we had struck, and rolled on our backs for another snooze, submissive to the will of Heaven.
How far we might have prolonged our snores, we never grew wide enough awake to say. But the soft folds of darkness fell around us still, and we closed our eyes beneath them, as a child submits to the kisses of his mother. Then a mighty bellow, and a cackle, and a stamping, and a shovelful of cold slush thrown into our faces made all of us jump up, and stare about, and splutter, and every one swear, except, as I heartily hope, myself.