Greatheart

by Ethel M. Dell

  CHAPTER XX

  THE VISION OF GREATHEART

  The darkness of the night lay like a black pall upon the mountain. Thesnow was falling thickly, and ever more thickly. It drifted in uponDinah, as she crouched in the shelter of an empty shed that had beenplaced on that high slope for the protection of sheep from the springstorms. They had come upon this shelter just as the gloom had become toogreat for even Isabel to regard further progress as possible, and inresponse to the girl's insistence they had crept in to rest. They hadlost the beaten track long since; neither of them had realized when. Butthe certainty that they had done so had had its effect upon Isabel. Herenergies had flagged from the moment that it had dawned upon her. Adeadly tiredness had come over her, a feebleness so complete that Dinahhad had difficulty in getting her into the shelter. Return was utterlyout of the question. They were hopelessly lost, and to wander in thatdensely falling snow was to court disaster.

  Very thankful Dinah had been to find even so poor a refuge in that wasteof drifting fog; but now as she huddled by Isabel's side it seemed to herthat the relief afforded was but a prolonging of their agony. The coldwas intense. It seemed to penetrate to her very bones, and she knew byher companion's low moaning that she was suffering keenly also.

  Isabel seemed to have sunk into a state of semi-consciousness, and onlynow and then did broken words escape her--words scarcely audible toDinah, but which testified none the less to the bitterness of despairthat had come upon her.

  She sat in a corner of the desolate place with Dinah pressed close toher, while the snow drifted in through the door-less entrance andsprinkled them both. But it was the darkness rather than the cold or thesnow that affected the girl as she crouched there with her arms about hercompanion, striving to warm and shelter her while she herself felt frozento the very heart. It was so terrible, so monstrous, so nerve-shattering.And the silence that went with it was like a nightmare horror to hershrinking soul. For all Dinah's sensibilities were painfully on thealert. No merciful dulness of perception came to her. Responsibility hadawakened in her a nervous energy that made her realize the awfulness oftheir position with appalling vividness. That they could possibly survivethe night she did not believe. And Death--Death in that fearfuldarkness--was a terror from which she shrank almost in panic.

  That she retained command of her quivering nerves was due solely to thefact of Isabel's helplessness--Isabel's dependence upon her. She knewthat while she had any strength left, she must not give way. She must bebrave. Their sole chance of rescue hung upon that.

  Like Scott, she thought of the guide, though the hope was a forlorn one.He might know of this shelter; but whether in the awful darkness he wouldever be able to find it she strongly doubted. Their absence must havebeen discovered long since, she was sure; and Scott--Scott would becertain to think of the mountain path. He would remember his sister'swild words of the day before, and he would know that she, Dinah, had hadno choice but to accompany her upon the mad quest. It comforted her tothink that Scott would understand, and was already at work to help them.If by any means deliverance could be brought to them she knew that Scottwould compass it. His quiet and capable spirit was accustomed to grapplewith difficulties, and the enormity of a task would never dismay him. Hehad probably organized a search-party long ere this. He would not restuntil he had done his very utmost. She wondered if he would come himselfto look for them; but discarded the idea as unlikely. His infirmity madeprogress on the mountains a difficult matter at all times, and he wouldnot wish to hamper the movements of the others. That was like Scott, shereflected. He would always keep his own desires in the background,subservient to the needs of others. No, he would not come himself. Hewould stay behind in torturing inaction while fitter men fared forth.

  The thought of Eustace came again to her. He would be one of thesearch-party. She pictured him forcing his way upwards, all hismagnificent strength bent to the work. Her heart throbbed at the memoryof that all-conquering presence--the arms that had held her, the lipsthat had pressed her own. And he had stooped to plead with her also. Shewould always remember that of him with a thrill of ecstasy. He theprincely and splendid--Apollo the magnificent!

  Always? A sudden chill smote her heart numbing her through and through.Always? And Death waiting on the threshold to snatch her away from thewonderful joy she had only just begun to know! Always! Ah, would sheremember even to-morrow--even to-morrow? And he--would he not forget?

  Isabel stirred in her arms and murmured an inarticulate complaint.Tenderly she drew her closer. How cold it was! How cruelly, how bitinglycold! All her bones were beginning to ache. A dreadful stiffness wascreeping over her. How long would her senses hold out, she wonderedpiteously? How long? How long?

  It must be hours now since they had entered that freezing place, and withevery minute it seemed to be growing colder. Never in her life had sheimagined anything so searching, so agonizing, as this cold. It held herin an iron rigour against which she was powerless to struggle. Thestrength to clasp Isabel in her arms was leaving her. She thought thather numbed limbs were gradually turning to stone. Even her lips were sonumbed with cold that she could not move them. The steam of her breathhad turned to ice upon the wool of her coat.

  The need for prayer came upon her suddenly as she realized that herfaculties were failing. Her belief in God was of that dim and far-offdescription that brings awe rather than comfort to the soul. The suddenthought of Him came upon her in the darkness like a thunderbolt. In allher life Dinah had never asked for anything outside her daily prayerswhich were of a strictly formal description. She had shouldered her owntroubles unassisted with the philosophy of a disposition that wasessentially happy. She had seldom given a serious thought to the life ofthe spirit. It was all so vague to her, so far removed from the dailyround and the daily burden. But now--face to face with the comingnight--the spiritual awoke in her. Her soul cried out for comfort.

  With Isabel still clasped in her failing arms, she began a desperateprayer for help. Her words came haltingly. They sounded strange toherself. But with all the strength that remained she sent forth her cryto the Infinite. And even as she prayed there came to her--whence sheknew not--the conviction that somewhere--probably not more than a coupleof miles from her though the darkness made the distance seemimmeasurable--Scott was praying too. That thought had a wonderfullycomforting effect upon her. His prayer was so much more likely to beanswered than hers. He was just the sort of man who would know how topray.

  "How I wish he were here!" she whispered piteously into the darkness. "Ishouldn't be afraid of dying--if only he were here."

  She was certain--quite certain--that had he been there with her, no fearwould have reached her. He wore the armour of a strong man, and by it hewould have shielded her also.

  "Oh, dear Mr. Greatheart," she murmured through her numb lips, "I'm sureyou know the way to Heaven."

  Isabel stirred again as one who moves in restless slumber. "We must scalethe peaks of Paradise to reach it," she said.

  "Are you awake, dearest?" asked Dinah very tenderly.

  Isabel's head was sunk against her shoulder. She moved it, slightlyraised it. "Yes, I am awake," she said. "I am watching for the dawn."

  "It won't come yet," whispered Dinah tremulously. "It's a long, long wayoff."

  Isabel moved a little more, feeling for Dinah in the darkness. "Are youfrightened, little one?" she said. "Don't be frightened!"

  Dinah swallowed down a sob. "It is so dark," she murmured throughchattering teeth. "And so, so cold."

  "You are cold, dear heart?" Isabel sat up suddenly. "Why should you becold?" she said. "The darkness is nothing to those who are used to it. Ihave lived in outer darkness for seven weary years. But now--now I thinkthe day is drawing near at last."

  With an energy that astounded Dinah she got upon her knees and by hermovements she realized, albeit too late, that she was divesting herselfof the long purple coat.

  With all her strength she sought to frustrate her, but her str
ength hadbecome very feebleness; and when, despite resistance, Isabel wrapped herround in the garment she had discarded, her resistance was too puny totake effect.

  "My dear," Isabel said, in her voice the deep music of maternaltenderness, "I am not needing it. I shall not need any earthly things forlong. I am going to meet my husband in the dawning. But you--you will goback."

  She fastened the coat with a quiet dexterity that made Dinah think againof Scott, and sat down again in her corner as if unconscious of the cold.

  "Come and lie in my arms, little one!" she said. "Perhaps you will beable to sleep."

  Dinah crept close. "It will kill you--it will kill you!" she sobbed. "Oh,why did I let you?"

  Isabel's arms closed about her. "Don't cry, dear!" she murmured fondly."It is nothing to me. A little sooner--a little later! If you hadsuffered what I have suffered you would say as I do, 'Dear God, let it besoon!' There! Put your head on my shoulder, dear child! See if you canget a little sleep! You have cared for me long enough. Now I am going tocare for you."

  With loving words she soothed her, calming her as though she had been achild in nightmare terror, and gradually a certain peace began to stillthe horror in Dinah's soul. An unmistakable drowsiness was stealing overher, a merciful lethargy lulling the sensibilities that had been soacutely tried. Her weakness was merging into a sense of almost blissfulrepose. She was no longer conscious of the anguish of the cold. Neitherdid the darkness trouble her. And the comfort of Isabel's arms was restto her spirit.

  As one who wanders in a golden maze she began to dream strange dreamsthat yet were not woven by the hand of sleep. Dimly she saw as down along perspective a knight in golden armour climbing, ever climbing, thepeaks of Paradise, from which, as from an eagle's nest, she watched hisdifficult but untiring progress. She thought he halted somewhat in theascent--which was unlike Apollo, who walked as walk the gods with a gaitboth arrogant and assured. But still he came on, persistently,resolutely, carrying his golden shield before him.

  His visor was down, and she wished that he would raise it. She yearnedfor the sight of that splendid face with its knightly features and blue,fiery eyes. She pictured it to herself as he came, but somehow it did notseem to fit that patient climbing figure.

  And then as he gradually drew nearer, the thought came to her to go andmeet him, and she started to run down the slope. She reached him. Shegave him both her hands. She was ready--she was eager--to be drawn intohis arms.

  But he did not so draw her. To her amazement he only bowed himself beforeher and stretched forth the shield he bore that it might cover them both.

  "It is Mr. Greatheart!" she said to herself in wonder. "Of course--it isMr. Greatheart!"

  And then, while she still gazed upon the glittering, princely form, heput up a hand and lifted the visor. And she saw the kindly, steadfasteyes all kindled and alight with a glory before which instinctively shehid her own. Never--no, never--had she dreamed before that any man couldlook at her so! It was not passion that those eyes held for her;--it wasworship.

  She stood with bated breath and throbbing heart, waiting, waiting, as onein the presence of a vision, who longs--yet fears--to look. And while shewaited she knew that the sun was shining upon them both with a glowingwarmth that filled her soul abrim with such a rapture as she had neverknown before.

  "How wonderful!" she murmured to herself. "How wonderful!"

  And then at last she summoned courage to look up, and all in a moment hervision was shattered. The darkness was all about her again; Greatheartwas gone.