But to-night between him and his beloved stars stretched a region of
shadows through which the eyes of his soul did not look. Something
within him had been stricken; sorely wounded; beaten to its knees;
chilled with death. He sought to think quite calmly, and for a long time
clear consecutive thought was beyond his reach. A moment had come when
he could only _feel_. He was swept this way and that. He had given to
Gloria his love without stint, without reservation, without limit. The
love which no other woman had ever awakened had poured itself out before
Gloria like a flood of clear swift water breaking free. He loved after
the only fashion possible to him, with his whole heart and soul, with
his whole being. He adored. He made of his beloved a princess, a
goddess. He saw her upon a plane where no woman ever lived, in an
atmosphere too rare for flesh-and-blood humanity. A man does not love
through human reason; rather through a reason, hidden even to him,
deeper than humanity. Then Gloria had put her hand into his; Gloria had
married him; Gloria had elected to come with him. After that he had seen
nothing in its true light; Gloria had remade the world into paradise
ineffable.
He had been on the heights, lifted among the stars. And without warning,
without mercy, the world had crashed about him. From the zenith to the
nadir. Small wonder that thoughts did not come logically! He floundered,
lost, crushed, bewildered.
Just yonder, on the bed of fir-boughs he had made for her, lay Gloria.
He did not look that way. The wind was rising; he heard it go rushing
through the tree-tops; it struck with sudden, relentless impact; it set
the shivering needles to shrill whistling; it made the staunch old
trunks shudder. He heard the canvas flap-flapping by Gloria's bed; above
him tossing boughs scraped and creaked.
One thing only seemed clear to him: the time had come when a man must
seek to hold himself in check, when he must not leap, when he must
strive with all the stubborn will in him to reserve judgment. His own
life's crisis had come to him, revealing itself with the blinding
swiftness of a flash of lightning. A step forward or back now would be
one step toward which his entire destiny, from the hour of birth until
now, had led him; there would be no retracing it; it would be final; and
everything--everything--was at stake. He must think; he must try to
understand all that Gloria had experienced; to see what impulses had
moved her; to make allowances for her; to come to read aright what lay
in her heart. He must see clearly into two human hearts! Task for the
gods! As though the wilderness about him were a colossal malevolent
entity endowed with the power to look into human breasts, it jeered at
him with its voice of the wind.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account