Romance Island
Page 18
CHAPTER XVIII
A MORNING VISIT
In an upper room in the Palace of the Litany, fair with all theburnished devices of the early light, Prince Tabnit paced on thatmorning of mornings of his marriage day. Because of his greathappiness the whole world seemed to him like some exquisite intaglioof which this day was the design.
The room, "walled with soft splendours of Damascus tiles," was laidwith skins of forgotten animals and was hung with historictapestries dyed by ancient fingers in the spiral veins of the Murex.There were frescoes uniting the dream with its actuality, columnscarved with both lines and names of beauty, pilasters decorated withchain and checker-work and golden nets. A stairway led to a highshrine where hung the crucified Tyrian sphinx. The room was like asinging voice summoning one to delights which it described. Butwhatever way one looked all the lines neither pointed nor seemed tohave had beginning, but being divorced from source and directionexpressed merely beauty, like an altar "where none cometh to pray."
Prince Tabnit, in his trailing robe of white embroidered by athousand needles, looked so akin to the room that one suspected itof having produced him, Athena-wise, from, say, the great blackshrine. When he paused before the shrine he seemed like a child cometo beseech some last word concerning the Riddle, rather than a manwho believed himself to have mastered all wisdom and to have nailedthe world-sphinx to her cross.
"Surely there is a vein for the silver And a place for the gold where they fine it. Iron is taken out of the earth And brass is moulton out of the stone. Man setteth an end to darkness And searcheth out all perfection: The stones of darkness and of the shadow of death,"
he was repeating softly. "So it is," he added, "'and searcheth tothe farthest bound.' Have I not done so? And do I not triumph?"
Then the youth who had once admitted St. George and his friends tothat far-away house in McDougle Street--with the hokey-pokey manoutside the door--entered with the poetry of deference; and if, ashe bent low, there was a lift and droop of his eyelids which tokenedutter bewilderment, not to say agitation, he was careful that theprince should not see that.
"Her Highness, the Princess of Yaque, Mrs. Hastings, Mr. AugustusFrothingham and Miss Frothingham ask audience, your Highness," heannounced clearly.
Prince Tabnit turned swiftly.
"Whom do you say, Matten?" he questioned and when the boy hadrepeated the names, meditated briefly. He was at a loss to fathomwhat this strange visit might portend; beyond doubt, he reflected(in a world which was an intaglio of his own designing) it portendednothing at all. He hastened forward to wait upon them and pausedmidway the room, for the highest tribute that a Prince of the Litanycould pay to another was to receive him in this chamber of theCrucified Sphinx.
"Conduct them here, Matten," he commanded, and took up his stationbeside an hundred-branched candlestick made in Curium. There hestood when, having been led down corridors of ivory and throughshining anterooms, Mrs. Hastings and Olivia and Antoinette appearedon the threshold of the chamber, followed by Mr. Frothingham. As theprince hastened forward to meet them with sweepings of his gownembroidered by a thousand needles and bent above their handsuttering gracious words, assuredly in all the history of Med and ofthe Litany the room of the Crucified Sphinx had never presented amore peculiar picture.
Into that tranquil atmosphere, dream-pervaded, Mrs. Medora Hastingsswept with all the certainty of an opinion bludgeoning the frailsecurity of a fact. She had refused to have her belongings sent tothe apartments in the House of the Litany placed that day at herdisposal, preferring to dress for the coronation before shedescended from Mount Khalak. She was therefore in a robe of blacksamite, trimmed with the fur of a whole chapter of extinct animals,and bangles and pendants of jewels bobbed and ticked all about her.But on her head she wore the bonnet trimmed with a parrot, set, asusual, frightfully awry. Beside her, with all the timidity ofcharming reality in the presence of fantasy, came Olivia andAntoinette--Olivia in a walking frock of white broadcloth, with anauto coat of hunting pink, and a cap held down by yards of cloudyveiling; Antoinette in a blue cloth gown, and about them both--stoutlittle boots and suede gloves and smart shirt-waists--such an air ofactuality as this chamber, prince and Sphinx and tradition and all,could not approach. Mr. Augustus Frothingham had struck his usualincontestable middle-ground by appearing in the blue velvet of arobe of State, over which he had slipped his light covert top-coat,and he carried his immaculate top-hat and a silver-headed stick.
"Prince Tabnit," said Mrs. Medora Hastings without ceremony, "whathave they done with that poor young man? Ask him, Olivia," shebesought, sinking down upon a chair of verd antique and extending alimp, plump hand to the niece who always did everything executive.
Olivia was very pale. She had hardly slept, night-long. Alarm at theinexplicable disappearance of St. George at dinner-time the daybefore and at the discovery that old Malakh was nowhere about had,by morning, deepened to unreasoning fear among them all. And thenOlivia, knowing nothing of what had taken place in the room of thetombs, had resolved upon a desperate expedient, had bundled into anairship her almost prostrate aunt, Mr. Frothingham and his excitedlittle daughter, and had borne down upon the Palace of the Litanytwo hours before noon. Amory, frantic with apprehension, had stayedbehind with Jarvo, certain that St. George could not have left themountain. But now that Olivia stood before the prince it requiredbut a moment to convince her that Prince Tabnit really knew nothingof St. George's whereabouts. Indeed, since his gift of Phoenicianwine, sealed three thousand years ago, and the immediate evanishmentof the two Americans, his Highness had no longer vexed his thoughtwith them, and he was genuinely amazed to know that (in a worldwhich was an intaglio of his own designing) these two had actuallyspent yesterday at the king's palace on Mount Khalak. He perceivedthat he must give them more definite attention than his half-idledevice of the wine--intended as that had been as a mere hyperspatialpractical joke, not in the least irreconcilable with his office ofhost.
"Mr. St. George came to Yaque to help me find my father," Olivia wasconcluding earnestly, "and if anything has happened to him, PrinceTabnit, I alone am responsible."
The prince reflected for a moment, his eyes fixed upon thehundred-branched candlestick. Then:
"Mr. St. George's disappearance," he said, "has prevented a stillmore unpleasant catastrophe."
"Catastrophe!" repeated Mrs. Hastings, quite without tucking in hervoice at the corners, "I have thought of no other word since I gotto be royalty."
"A world experience, a world experience, dear Madame," contributedMr. Frothingham, his hands laid trimly along his blue velvet lap.
"But that doesn't make it any easier to bear, no matter what anybodysays," retorted the lady.
"Inasmuch," pursued Prince Tabnit with infinite regret, "as theseAmericans have, as you say, assisted in the search for your father,the king, they have most unfortunately violated that ancient lawwhich provides that no State or satrapy shall receive aid, whetherof blood or of bond, from an alien. The Royal House alone isexempt."
"And the penalty," demanded Olivia fearfully. "Is there a penalty?What is that, Prince Tabnit?"
The voice of the prince was never more mellow.
"Do not be alarmed, I beg," he hastened his reassurance. "Upon thereturn of Mr. St. George, he and his friend will simply be setadrift in a rudderless airship, an offering to the great idea ofspace."
Mrs. Hastings swayed toward the prince in her chair of verd antique,and her voice seemed to become brittle in the air.
"Oh, is that what you call being ahead of the time," she demandedshrilly, "getting behind science to behave like Nero? And for mypart I don't see anything whatever about the island that is ahead ofthe times. You haven't even got silk shoe-laces. I actually had touse a cloth-of-gold sandal strap to lace my oxfords, and when I losta cuff-link I was obliged to make shift with two sides of one ofQueen Agothonike's ear-rings that I found in the museum at thepalace. And that isn't all," went on the lad
y, wrong kindling wrong,"what do you do for paper and envelopes? There is not a quire to befound in Med. They offered me _wireless blanks_--an ultra form thatMr. Hastings would never have considered in good taste. And howabout visiting cards? I tried to have a plate made, and they showedme a wireless apparatus for flashing from the doorstep the name ofthe visitor--an electrical entrance which Mr. Hastings would haveconsidered most inelegant. Ahead of the times, with your rudderlessairships! I have always said that the electric chair is a way to bebarbarous and good form at the same time, and that is what I thinkabout Yaque!"
Mr. Frothingham's hands worked forward convulsively on his bluevelvet knees.
"My dear Madame," he interposed earnestly, "the history of criminaljurisprudence, not to mention the remarkable essay of the MarquisBeccaria--proves beyond doubt that the extirpation of the offenderis the only possible safety for the State--"
Olivia rose and stood before the prince, her eyes meeting his.
"You will permit this sentence?" she asked steadily. "As head of theHouse of the Litany, you will execute it, Prince Tabnit?"
"Alas!" said the prince humbly, "it is customary on the day of thecoronation to set adrift all offenders. I am the servant of theState."
"Then, Prince Tabnit, I can not marry you."
At this Mrs. Hastings looked blindly about for support, and Mr.Frothingham and Antoinette flew to her side. In that moment the ladyhad seen herself, prophetically, in black samite and her parrotbonnet, set adrift in the penitential airship with her rebelliousniece.
For a moment Prince Tabnit hesitated: he looked at Olivia, who wasnever more beautiful than as she defied him; then he walked slowlytoward her, with sweep and fall of his garments embroidered by athousand needles. Antoinette and her father, ministering to Mrs.Hastings, heard only the new note that had crept into his voice, athrill, a tremour--
"Olivia!" he said.
Her eyes met his in amazement but no fear.
"In a land more alien to me than the sun," said the prince, "I sawyou, and in that moment I loved you. I love you more than the lifebeyond life upon which I have laid hold. I brought you to thisisland to make you my wife. Do you understand what it is that Ioffer you?"
Olivia was silent. She was trembling a little at the sheer enormityof the moment. Suddenly, Prince Tabnit seemed to her like a namethat she did not know.
"Will you not understand what I mean?" he besought with passionateearnestness. "Can I make my words mean nothing to you? Do you notsee that it is indeed as I say--that I have grasped the secret oflife within life, beyond life, transcending life, as hisunderstanding transcends the man? The wonder of the island is butthe alphabet of wisdom. The secrets of life and death and beingitself are in my grasp. The hidden things that come near to you inbeauty, in dream, in inspiration are mine and my people's. Allthese I can make yours--I offer you life of a fullness such as thepeople of the world do not dream. I will love you as the gods love,and as the gods we will live and love--it may be for ever. Nothingof high wisdom shall be unrevealed to us. We shall be what the worldwill be when it nears the close of time. Come to me--trust me--bebeside me in all the wonder that I know. But above all, love me, forI love you more than life, and wisdom, and mystery!"
Olivia understood, and she believed. The mystery of life had alwaysbeen more real to her than its commonplaces, and all her years shehad gone half-expecting to meet some one, unheralded, to whom allthings would be clear, and who should make her know by some secretsign that this was so, and should share with her. She had no doubtwhatever that Prince Tabnit spoke the truth--just as the daughter ofthe river-god Inachus knew perfectly that she was being wooed by avoice from the air. Indeed, the world over, lovers promise eachother infinite things, and are infinitely believed.
"I do understand you, Prince Tabnit," Olivia said simply, "I dounderstand something of what you offer me. I think that these thingswere not meant to be hidden from men always, so I can even believethat you have all that you say. But--there is something more."
Olivia paused--and swiftly, as if some little listening spirit hadreleased the picture from the air, came the memory of that nightwhen she had stood with St. George on that airy rampart beside thewall of blossoming vines.
"There is something more," she repeated, "when two love each othervery much I think that they have everything that you have said, andmore."
He looked at her in silence. The stained light from some high windowcaught her veil in meshes of rose and violet--fairy colours,witnessing the elusive, fairy, invincible truth of what she said.
"You mean that you do not love me?" said the prince gently.
"I do not love you, your Highness," said Olivia, "and as for thewisdom of which you speak, that is worse than useless to you if youcan do as you say with two quite innocent men." She hesitated,searching his face. "Is there no way," she said, "that I, thedaughter of your king, can save them? I will appeal to the people!"
The prince met her eyes steadily, adoringly.
"It would avail nothing," he said, "they are at one with the law.Yet there is a way that I can help you. If Mr. St. George returns,as he must, he and his friends shall be set adrift with dueceremony--but in an imperial airship, with a man secretly incontrol. By night they can escape to their yacht. This I willdo--upon one condition."
"Oh--what is that?" she asked, and for all the reticence of hereagerness, her voice was a betrayal.
Prince Tabnit turned to the window. Below, in the palace grounds,and without, in the Eurychorus, a thousand people awaited theopening of the palace doors. They filled the majestic avenue, pouredup the shadowed alleys that taught the necessity of mystery, weregrouped beneath the honey-sweet trees; and above their heads, fromevery dome and column in the fair city, flowed and streamed thejoyous, wizard, nameless colours of the pennons blown heavenwardagainst the blue. They were come, this strange, wise, elusivepeople, to her marriage.
The prince was smiling as he met her eyes; for the world was alwaysthe exquisite intaglio, and to-day was its design.
"They know," he said simply, "what was to have been at noon to-day.Do you not understand my condition?"