But I must be off, for I dare not intrude upon her quiet sorrow, and perhaps I had no right to watch her as I did; but I meant no harm, and the pretty sight has been a lesson of goodwill to me. Now for her noble father's room! I ought to have been there long ago. What will he say to me? But whatever it may be, what I say of his beautiful child is this—"She is more than any angel; she is a tenderhearted woman."
CHAPTER XIX TO CLEAR THE WAY
The manners and customs of that little colony, or settlement, or camp, or whatever it should be called—for I never found out the right name for it—differed from ours very widely, some better no doubt, and some worse perhaps. For instance, who could blame them for their rational practice of leaving hard work to Occidental races? They did a stroke or two when they could not help it, just to keep their bodies sound; but the chief and commander, as we too expect, had to carry through with his own hands the hardest part of everything. But another custom of theirs appeared to be of more doubtful wisdom; for instead of having set hours for meals and accomplishing them sociably, as well as with some regularity and sense of responsibility, every man was allowed to eat what he liked, when he liked, and where he liked. The natural result was this—you could never be certain of finding a man with his mouth in condition to answer you. How they got food enough to be at it so perpetually, was for a long time a mystery to me, especially as they dealt so little with any of the farms or shops around. Not a man of them was ever seen in our village, and as for the very few women in the camp—Baboushka, and Mrs. Stepan, and some who did the washing—not one of them came out of her white cocoon, though brought up very largely as Christians.
This statement is in its place, to show why the man, whom I revered, was still in a position to command my reverence. If he had been subject to feminine irruptions, to which even the greatest men are liable, all his devotion to the highest enterprise might have failed to secure his equanimity. But he had contracted upon reasonable terms with a vast Universal Provider, and he only had to pay the weekly totals in advance, and send to the place of delivery, once or twice a-week, according to the temperature. Thus everybody found himself fed to the utmost of his nature, and most of them preferred canned victuals; though something more British had been required for our Police.
That evening, when I entered Sûr Imar's room, after leaving his daughter among her birds, the first thing I did was to watch him very keenly for any sign of anxiety or excitement, such as he might be expected to show if he had been just visited by that abominable Prince Hafer. What right had I to identify the man I had seen with the one of whom I had only heard? And even if that conclusion should prove right, by what process could I tell that there was nothing good about him? Yet in my mind there was no shadow of a doubt about either of those points, and I looked at Sûr Imar as if he must acquit himself of some contagion before I could enjoy his society. But he met me quite as usual, without even complaining of my unpunctuality; for he was a man of such dignity that he suspected nobody of slighting him.
Whatever he might be doing, or of whatever he might be speaking, there was such simplicity, and largeness, and straightforwardness pervading it, that one seemed to fall into it and follow, instead of doubting, and querying, and perpending. And his gentle and friendly and kind steady gaze brought all that was good in one to meet him, and drove away the dirty streaks of our nature, to hide themselves under their own mud.
"I have been considering, my dear young friend," he said, as he took and held my hand, and I felt ashamed to leave it in so warm a place, after all my cold suspicions, "about my behaviour to you the other day. Nothing unkind was intended, but unkindness is often done without that. You told me that you loved my dear, and now my only child. I should have received that with more goodwill, whether it suited my own views or not. For my manner then, I beg your pardon."
I answered that nothing in his manner then, or at any time since I had known him, could be taken by any gentleman as uncourteous or inconsiderate. I had told him what was the main object of my life, and I felt that I was right in doing so; and although I could scarcely hope for his approval, being a poor man and of no high rank, I had done what seemed to me to be the proper thing, instead of coming as his guest upon false pretences. I spoke plainly, and he answered nobly.