by James Cowan
CHAPTER XXXIX.
A SUDDEN RETURN TO THE EARTH.
That night, when the doctor and I were alone, I said to him:
"Well, doctor, what do you think of it all?"
"It would take me a long time," he replied, "to tell what I think. Iconfess I am beginning to imbibe a little of the spirit of this place.I have spent my life in the pursuit of material facts, which we supposedwere the only substantial and valuable things in life Now I find myselfthinking lightly of such matters, with my mind held in the grasp of fardifferent thoughts. I realize now something of the substance and realityof unseen things, and believe that man has a spiritual side tohis nature, which must be developed if he is to fulfill the highexpectations of our friends in this world. Taught by Thorwald's wordsand by all I have seen here, I have come to that point where I can sayI am losing my doubts and acquiring a love for things which formerlydid not exist for me. If we ever return to the earth we shall findoccupation enough for the rest of our lives in teaching the lessons wehave learned here."
"Yes," I said, "if we ever return. But doesn't that seem impossible?"
"It certainly is difficult to imagine how it can be accomplished, butgoing home ought not to be any more impossible than our coming here.Perhaps we had better bestir ourselves, for Mars is now getting fartheraway from the earth every day. Thorwald says the two planets were nearereach other at the recent opposition than ever before since their recordsbegan, and this is probably what drew our moon here, so fortunately forus. For the return trip we might get these generous people to loan usDemios or Phobos."
"What are they?"
"Why, don't you know? They are the little satellites of Mars, namedafter the favorite horses of the war god."
"But seriously now," I asked, "how are we to get home?"
"Well, seriously, I don't know," the doctor answered. "Some accident mayhappen to send us away from here in a hurry."
"You know this is not the right world for accidents," I said.
"I am not able to see," he replied, "how they can be sure that they areentirely free from accidents. They have been so long without them thatit seems to me it would not be strange if a big one should come almostany day. One must be due, as we say."
In the morning Thorwald met us with a pleasant greeting, as usual, andthen said:
"I have been surprised that you have not shown more curiosity on onesubject of vast importance to us. You have not once asked to see ourcomet."
"We have talked of it by ourselves," said the doctor, "but we have beentoo much engrossed in studying your history and customs to think much ofa topic so far above our comprehension as the comet. Your civilizationis much higher than we can appreciate, and I am sure we should makesmall progress in attempting to investigate a development that is somuch beyond yours."
"Your excuse," returned Thorwald, "is as complimentary as it isingenious. But should you not like to see an object which possesses somuch interest for us?"
"Certainly," the doctor made haste to reply; "and just as soon as youchoose to take us. You told us it was at the door of a large city. Is itfar from here?"
"Yes," Thorwald answered, "a long way in miles, but not far in minutesif we go by the tubular route. But if it is agreeable to you, suppose wetake the air line and make a leisurely excursion of it."
We both assured him that we were delighted with the prospect, and Isuggested that Zenith and the children should accompany us.
"Yes," said Thorwald, "and in anticipation of your consent to go on theexpedition, I invited some other friends of yours last night to sharethe pleasure with us. And here they are now," he continued, rising andstepping to the door.
The doctor and I hurried forward, and were heartily greeted by Proctor,the astronomer, and Foedric of the red voice. The latter was accompaniedby a comely-looking ape, which had been trained to act as his bodyservant. The animal was intelligent, and quick to understand every wordaddressed to him, but quiet and respectful in demeanor, and, to allappearance, as well fitted to fill the station he occupied as theservants we had been accustomed to seeing on the earth.
Zenith explained to us that in many households the ape and othercreatures were employed for light services, and were exceedingly useful.But as for their own house, she said the work that could not be done bymechanical means she preferred to do herself, assisted by her children.It was much better that every child should have some stated work to do.
It was not long before we were all on our way to the aerial station,where we selected a commodious air ship, managed by one of Foedric'sfriends.
When we were seated comfortably and were enjoying once more theexquisite sensation of sailing so easily through that balmy air,Thorwald said to the doctor and me:
"We all anticipate a great deal of pleasure in showing you our bignatural curiosity and what it contains. We want to see your surprisewhen you look upon its vast proportions, and your growing curiosity asyou try to make out some of its mysteries. Things which baffle our skillmay be plain to you, and perhaps you will even be able to do somethingwith that puzzling language."
"Yes," said the doctor, "if it is beyond your skill we shall no doubt beable to read it at sight."
"Well, at any rate," continued Thorwald, "we shall enjoy the novelexperience of exhibiting the marvel of our whole world to those whowere, until so recently, entirely ignorant of its existence."
"I hope," I said, "that our behavior will not be such as to disappointyou, when we are brought face to face with the object for which you haveso deep a sentiment.
"But, Thorwald, the doctor and I have been talking about going home. Notthat we are tiring of your society, but we are filled with a desire totell the people of the earth what we have found on Mars and try to teachthem some of the good lessons you have given us. The doctor, who has amonopoly of the scientific culture in our party, can see no prospect ofour getting away from your planet. With your more advanced science, canyou suggest any way by which we can take a dignified leave of you?"
"We should regret exceedingly," replied Thorwald, "to lose you just aswe are becoming well acquainted, but I have no criticism to make on theexcuse you offer for wanting to revisit your home. I must say, however,that you present to us too hard a problem to solve. With all ourattainments in astronomy and in the navigation of the air, you went onepoint beyond us when you took passage from the earth to Mars, for wehave no means by which to express passengers from one planet to another.
"We consider the circumstances of your leaving the earth and yourjourney hither the most remarkable thing of the kind ever heard of, andwe have nothing in our experience on which we can begin to build anyscheme for sending you off on so long a flight through space. If youwill only be content to stay here till we have progressed further withour investigations of the high civilization brought to light in ourcomet, perhaps we can help you. The remarkable people whose exaltedcondition is there represented may have had powers in this directionof which we cannot conceive. The subject will add even more zest to ourresearches.
"Why do you desire to leave us so soon? You have seen but few of ournotable improvements, and learned comparatively little of the practicalworkings of our high civilization. And then I have been hoping thedoctor would come fully into our belief before he went away."
"If you could hear what he has told me," I said, "you would see thathe is already fit to be sent as a foreign missionary from this blessedworld to the struggling earth."
"Good!" cried Thorwald. "I am delighted to hear it. If anything couldreconcile us to the loss of your society, it is the knowledge that youwill both he glad messengers of hope to your promising race. I rejoicethat I have had a share in the work of preparing you for your mission.
"And now, suppose we all humor your conceit and give you our partingwords, as if the ship were at hand which was to sail the mighty void,and bear you safely to your distant home.
"Come, wife, friends, the day is young and the air delightful. There isnothing to hasten us on our way. Let us
ride leisurely along and take alittle time to speed these earth-dwellers on their prospective journeywith a few words of cheer.
"Foedric, what advice have you to offer them before they take theirleave of us?"
Foedric was modest, as we had learned before, but he entered intoThorwald's plan with evident pleasure, and said, addressing the doctorand me:
"My friends from foreign skies, you do not need advice from me after youhave been so long with Thorwald and Zenith, but I will send a message toyour unfortunate fellow beings who have never had the pleasure of theiracquaintance. When you have related your experiences and told them thecondition in which you have found us, ask them to call us no longerMars, but Pax, the world of peace. Our planet is red, but not withwar. Its red is rather the blush of the dawn that ushers in the day ofuniversal love. My word to men is to expect the advent of that day, and,expecting, to prepare for it. Useless, cruel, inhuman war must cease,with all strife and hatred and envy and bitter feeling; and then shallyou begin to see the full measure of beauty in the song of the angels ofwhich you have told us, and 'Peace on earth' will be a blessed fact andnot a prophecy. Thorwald, I have finished."
"You have spoken well, Foedric," said Thorwald. "And now, what wisecounsel will you give, Proctor?"
"From what I have learned in regard to the people of the earth," repliedProctor, "it seems to me they will be obliged to have a great deal ofwar there yet--war against a world of evils, which must be driven outwith a strong hand before they can have peace. When each individual hassubdued his own spirit, then there will be no more war, and no otherenemies to conquer."
"Study the majesty and power of God as exhibited nightly in the starrysky, and learn to revere a being who holds in his hands a millionworlds, and not only guides their movements but directs with a heart oflove the minutest affairs of all their inhabitants. Look over the broadfield of creation, and think of the earth, grand and beautiful as itis, as only one among the vast number of peopled orbs, all swinging inunison, parts of one plan, every one in its day sending forth a song ofpraise to its maker. So shall your hearts expand and burst the narrowbounds of selfish desire and trivial occupation, and you will begin togrow into the full stature of the sons of God."
Proctor spoke with such feeling that the doctor and I now began to thinkthat these people must be in earnest and were really preparing to sendus home in some way, but the latter idea was, as will speedily be seen,an unjust suspicion.
"Zenith," said Thorwald, "will you take your turn, after Proctor'sinspiring words?"
"If we were in truth making our farewells to these friends," repliedZenith, "I should feel more sadness than I am conscious of now.
"My message, O men, shall be a plea for purity. If you would seek tomake your world the better for your visit here, teach men everywhere tobe pure, a hard lesson to learn, but one that will bring a rich reward.First make the fountain sweet. Be pure in heart, and then your lives,and even your thoughts, will be pure. When you can fully obey thecommand, 'Think no evil,' you will need no other commandment to keepyour lives unspotted. Such a requirement no doubt seems too difficultfor you now, but the earth must come to its maturity by following thesame high ideal which has ever been set before us. There is one lawfor all worlds, an infinitely pure and holy God commands us all to beperfect even as he is perfect, although to that perfection nor earth norMars, nor, perhaps, any other world, has yet attained."
"But, Thorwald, I fear you will not have time to give your farewellwords before our friends depart."
"I shall not require much time," replied Thorwald, "but I should notlike to lose the opportunity of adding something to what has alreadybeen said. I think we have been wise in having this talk, for those whocould take advantage of such a novel way of coming to us may discoversome means of going home again before we suspect it."
Then, turning to us, Thorwald continued:
"Go back to the earth, my brothers, and tell men to despair not in theirconflict with evil; for God reigns, therefore the good will triumph.Tell them you found a race of happy beings here, not perfect, but aimingtoward perfection, having escaped many of the perils that belong to anearlier stage of existence. The earth, too, will one day be old. Will itbe happy then? Your generation can help to make it so. With our historyto guide us, and with the knowledge you have given us of the earth'spresent condition, we have high hopes of your race, and I venture theprediction that your world will see, in the near future, such an advanceas you have never dreamed of. The era of a united effort to overthrowthe evil forces is approaching, when all will press with eager, sincerehearts into the work, when money will be poured out like water, when menwill begin to lose their selfishness and take each other by the hand asbrothers, and when the dark places of the earth will grow bright withthe light of the gospel.
"I do not wonder you want to get back there. I hope I should have thesame desire if I were in your place. What a time in which to live, withso much good work to do, and such encouragement and sure reward!"
Thorwald's enthusiasm made him eloquent, and we all regarded himintently as he spoke. How well I remember that group of persons:Proctor, the devout astronomer; the stalwart and earnest Foedric;Zenith, the queen of all womanly graces; and Thorwald himself, ourfriend and brother, the rich fruit of an advanced development.
My companion and I were deeply impressed with the words we had heard,and could hardly realize that these friends were not aware that our lifein Mars was nearly over, their farewells were so genuine.
But, hark! Thorwald is still speaking:
"Go back to the earth, I say, and--" a crash, a sensation of falling, adull pain in my head, a new voice at my ear, saying,
"Why, Walter, are you hurt?"
During the effort to recover full consciousness I said:
"There, Doctor, the accident you expected has certainly come."
And then I opened my eyes and discovered that I was sitting in anundignified position on the deck of a vessel of some kind.
Again the voice, now more familiar and identified with a lovely face,said:
"You must have had that broken chair; I knew it would let you down sometime. Don't you know me, Walter?"
"Why, yes, it's you, Margaret, isn't it? But where's the doctor?"
"Oh, how are you hurt?" cried Margaret in alarm. "Tell me, and I willrun for the doctor at once."
This conversation had all passed in a moment, and by the time it wasfinished I had extricated myself from the broken chair with Margaret'sassistance, and was now wide awake. I had never expected to leave Marswithout the doctor; but now he was gone with all the rest, and I waswell content to find myself back by Margaret's side, and to hear herpleasant words, the words of a plain inhabitant of the earth, not toogood to love me a little selfishly. A wave of intense happiness in thepossession of such a love passed over me. It was a feeling I had neverbefore experienced in my waking moments and it must have illumined myface, for Margaret continued:
"I don't believe you are hurt at all. You look too happy to be in pain.What have you been dreaming about, that makes your face shine so? Howthankful I am for this bright moonlight. I never saw you have so muchexpression before."
"Margaret," I replied, as soon as she would let me speak, "don't youremember you sent me on a quest for my heart? Well, I have found it andbrought it back to you."
"How lovely to find it so soon," she exclaimed; "and I know by yourlooks it's a large one and full of love. But tell me about it. How didit happen?"
"Why, I fell in love with a voice."
"With a voice? Whose voice?"
"Well, it didn't seem to matter much. First it belonged to Mona and thento Avis, and part of the time to both of them."
"You make me jealous," said Margaret.
We were now standing, hand in hand, leaning on the rail of the vessel,in the full enjoyment of our new-found happiness.
"You will not be jealous," I answered, "when you know all about it. Ihave enough to tell you, Margaret, to occupy a week, I sh
ould think.I have seen and heard a great deal, and seemed to be living amid otherscenes for many months, and yet I notice the moon is but two or threehours higher than when you left me there in the chair to go and findyour book. I shall take great pleasure in relating to you the entireexperience when we have time. Perhaps I will write it out for you. Ihave been stirred as I never expected to be, but I assure you I havebrought back my whole heart to you. Only," I added, as a sudden flash ofmemory startled me with its vividness, "I should like to hear that voiceonce more."
"Ah," said my companion, "why do you think of that so much? I fear youare not quite heart whole. What was there peculiar about the voice?"
"Margaret, it was the most exquisite music anyone ever dreamed of. Icannot describe my emotions or the intensity of my enjoyment whenever Iheard it. First the voice belonged to a beautiful girl whom I thought wemet on the moon, and who talked only in the language of the birds. Thenshe went to Mars with us, and there I heard the same sweet voice alsofrom one of the noble women of that happy planet.
"Oh, what queer things we do in our sleep, and how supremely selfisha dreamer is. I once had a theory that we are all responsible for thecharacter of our dreams, but I hope, my dear, that you will not call meto too strict an account in this case, I should blush to tell you how Iloved each singer, and yet I know now it was only the voice that charmedme. I shall seek my pillow with delight to-night, to try and catch in mysleep some faint echo of that song, for I never expect to hear its likein my waking hours. You are laughing at me, and I don't wonder. Let mesee. I dreamed that I dreamed that you and Mona and Avis were all onegrand, sweet singer. I wonder what would have happened if I had staidthere long enough to tell Avis something that was on my mind. Perhaps Inever should have come away.
"But forgive me, dear Margaret, for my enthusiasm for simply a memory,and put the blame on my sensitive ears. And now, tell me what you havebeen doing during these long hours. Did you find the professor and getyour book?"
"Yes, but I had to stay a few minutes and hear him talk. I hurried back,however, to be with you, and for my reward found you fast asleep."
"I was only dozing. But what did you do then?"
"Oh, I sat quiet for a while, and then took up the amusement I usuallyfollow when I find myself alone."
"What is that? Pray tell."
"Singing, of course."
"Singing?"
"Why, yes, didn't you know I could sing?"
"Do you mean to say you were singing all those two or three hours?"
"Not all the time, but at intervals. I sang so loud sometimes that Ithought I should wake you."
"Then," I exclaimed with feeling, "it was you that I heard. You know myears are never fully asleep. Margaret, it was your voice that I havebeen falling in love with."
At this Margaret laughed heartily, as she answered:
"You have been a good while finding it out. I knew it all the time.That's what I sang for, and I had my pay as I went on, for every timeI began, whether soft or loud, I could see your face light up with thelight of your soul, and then I knew my voice was finding its way to somecorner of your brain."
"How stupid of me," I said, "not to wake up the very first time I heardyou; but I thought it was Mona. Oh, how it did thrill me! And to thinkI am to hear it again when I am really awake. Come, why do we waste allthis time in talking when I have that great happiness still unfulfilled?May I not hear you sing now?"
"Oh, you might be disappointed, after all. My idea is that you enjoyedmy singing because all your critical faculties were dulled in sleep, andyou heard only through your heart, as it were. Don't you think it wouldbe better to live awhile on the pleasant memory you have brought backwith you?"
"Not at all. I can retain the memory, and have the present happinessbesides."
"But you said you never expected to hear such music in your wakinghours."
"Do not be so cruel, Margaret, as to recall those words against me,although they were really a tribute to you, for it was your own voicethat forced me to utter them. But what can I do to induce you to sing?"
"Go to sleep," she replied. "I will sing for you all you please when youare asleep, and you can hear me and think of Mona at the same time. Thatwill be a double pleasure."
"My dear, I prefer to think of you. Mona was a beautiful girl, but shecould never love me as you do."
"Why so? Wasn't her heart large enough?"
"Yes, it was too large--so large that she loved everybody, and one nomore than another; while you, darling, have chosen me, out of all thepeople in the world, as the object of your highest and deepest love, andyet in doing that have only increased your power of loving others. Nowwhat will you do to pay me for that speech?"
"Well, I'll relent. But you must at least pretend to be asleep. Comeback and find another chair that you can rest in easily, and I will sitbeside you. There, that will do. Now turn your head away from me, closeyour eyes, and promise me you won't open them till I tell you to do so.I intend to have the calm judgment of your ears uninfluenced by yoursight or any other sense. If you can manage to fall asleep while I amsinging, so much the better."
"Margaret," I replied, "I shall try hard to keep my eyes closed, butthere isn't a drug in the ship's dispensary powerful enough to put me tosleep."
"Then keep quiet and think of Mona. That will be the next bestoccupation for you. Stop laughing, or I shall disappoint you, afterall. I should think the memory of the first time I sang for you would beenough to sober you. Now I am going to turn away my head, so that if youdo look around you won't see my face."
I said nothing in reply, being too eager to have her begin. And now Ihad not long to wait for the fulfillment of my oft-expressed desire.
Sweet and low came the first accents of her song, and, with all myanticipations and with the foretaste I had had in my sleep, I was notprepared for the effect they had on me. It was Mona's voice, but withevery fine quality so exaggerated that all my faculties, now in thefullest sense awake, were completely taken captive. I made no movement,except to turn my head slightly so that I might drink in the sweetsounds with both ears. As the notes increased in volume my pleasure grewto rapture. Not only was my critical taste fully satisfied, which ofitself was almost bliss, but that other and higher effect followed--myheart was enlisted. I had never known love till that hour. We had beenintroduced to each other years ago and had kept up a cold and formalacquaintance, and in my recent sleep we had made notable progress,but only now did love and I really clasp hands in a warm and lastingembrace.
If I had loved Margaret before, then the feeling I now had was somethingelse, it was so different. But it was nothing else, and, therefore, Iwas obliged to conclude that I had lived all these years with a falsenotion in my head. As the song changed now and then, but did notstop, my heart swelled with its strong emotion, and I had the greatestdifficulty to keep my promise and remain quiet. At length the musicceased, and I jumped from my chair with the intention of giving Margaretsome palpable sign of my new love, when I was arrested by her warninghand and these words:
"Wait, Walter, someone is coming. I can see all you want to tell me inyour face."
I was obliged to stop, and reserve for a more private place any violentmanifestation of my exuberant affection, but answered quietly:
"Not all, dear Margaret. You will never know all my love." There was nowmore or less passing back and forth by the passengers, preparing for theapproaching landing, but yet we were able to continue our conversation.At Margaret's request I told her more about Mona and Avis, and theprincipal incidents of what seemed to me a real experience, reservingthe graver parts of the story for other occasions. Her sympathies wentout particularly toward Mona, and suggested the question:
"Did not the poor child recover her voice?"
"I think she did soon after we left," I replied. "I neglected to tellyou that, the morning we started for our last aerial trip, Antonia toldme she was teaching Mona the use of the vocal organs, and the resultswere already such that sh
e believed she would in a short time beentirely successful."
"How fortunate for me," said Margaret, laughing, "that you came awayjust then."
"Oh, Margaret," I exclaimed as loud as I dared, "I thought I was happylast night, but what shall I call my condition now? Do you have thatintensity of feeling for me which is nearly bursting my heart?"
"Yes, my dear, I have had it for years. But my love is certainlyincreasing now, when I see yours flowering out so luxuriantly."
In such sweet converse the time passed rapidly. Steadily our noblevessel carried us every moment nearer home. And with the last words ofThorwald, "Go back to the earth," still ringing in my ears, we steamedamid familiar scenes--the lights from Long Island, New Jersey, StatenIsland, and soon Liberty's torch, Governor's Island, and the great cityin front of us. This voyage was ended, but our life's voyage seemed tobe just beginning as I led Margaret forth with wonderful tenderness andwhispered in her ear, passionately, the magic words, "I love you."