was but a kind of
animated mummy inspired by one idea which I
felt quite sure would be disap
pointed,
namely, to renew his
former
greatness. To me he seemed as
miserable a figure as one
could imagine, brooding and plotting in his illuminated cave, at
the end of an
extended but misspent life.
Also I wondered what he, or rather his ego, had been doing
during all those two hundred and fifty thousand years of sleep.
Possibly if Yva's theory, as I understood it, were correct, he
had reincarnated as Attila, or Tamerlane, or Napoleon, or even as
Chaka the terrible Zulu king. At any rate there he was still in
the world, filled with the dread of death, but consumed now as
ever by his insatiable and most
useless finite
ambitions.
Yva, also! Her case was his, but yet how different. In all this
long night of Time she had but ripened into one of the sweetest
and most gentle women that ever the world bore. She, too, was
great in her way, it appeared in her every word and
gesture, but
where was the
ferocity of her father? Where his desire to reach
to splendour by treading on a blood-stained road paved with
broken human hearts? It did not exist. Her nature was different
although her body came of a long line of these power-loving
kings. Why this
profound difference of the spirit? Like
everything else it was a
mystery. The two were as far apart as
the Poles. Everyone must have hated Oro, from the
beginning,
however much he feared him, but
everyone who came in touch with
her must have loved Yva.
Here I may break into my personal
narrative to say that this,
by their own
confession, proved to be true of two such various
persons as Bastin and Bickley.
"The truth, which I am sure it would be wrong to hide from you,
Arbuthnot," said the former to me one day, "is that during your
long
illness I fell in love, I suppose that is the right word,
with the Glittering Lady. After thinking the matter over also, I
conceived that it would be proper to tell her so if only to clear
the air and prevent future misunderstandings. As I remarked to
her on that occasion, I had hesitated long, as I was not certain
how she would fill the place of the wife of the incumbent of an
English parish."
"Mothers' Meetings, and the rest," I suggested.
"Exactly so, Arbuthnot. Also there were the views of the Bishop
to be considered, who might have objected to the introduction
into the diocese of a
striking person who so recently had been a
heathen, and to one in such strong
contrast to my late beloved
wife."
"I suppose you didn't consider the late Mrs. Bastin's views on
the subject of re-marriage. I remember that they were strong," I
remarked rather maliciously.
"No, I did not think it necessary, since the Scriptural
instructions on the matter are very clear, and in another world
no doubt all jealousies, even Sarah's, will be obliterated. Upon
that point my
conscience was quite easy. So when I found that,
unlike her parent, the Lady Yva was much inclined to accept the
principles of the faith in which it is my
privilege to instruct
her, I thought it proper to say to her that if
ultimately she
made up her mind to do so--of course this was a sine qua non--I
should be much honoured, and as a man, not as a
priest, it would
make me most happy if she would take me as a husband. Of course I
explained to her that I considered, under the circumstances, I
could quite lawfully perform the marriage
ceremony myself with
you and Bickley as witnesses, even should Oro refuse to give her
away. Also I told her that although after her
varied experiences
in the past, life at Fulcombe, if we could ever get there, might
be a little
monotonous, still it would not be entirely
devoid of
interest."
"You mean Christmas decorations and that sort of thing?"
"Yes, and choir treats and entertaining Deputations and
attending other Church activities."
"Well, and what did she say, Bastin?"
"Oh! she was most kind and
flattering. Indeed that hour will