Darkness and Dawn

by George Allan England

  CHAPTER XXX

  CONSUMMATION

  After a while, both calmer grown, they looked again from thehigh window.

  "See!" exclaimed the engineer, and pointed.

  There, far away to westward, a few straggling lights--only a veryfew--slowly and uncertainly were making their way across the broadblack breast of the river.

  Even as the man and woman watched, one vanished. Then another winkedout, and did not reappear. No more than fifteen seemed to reach theJersey shore, there to creep vaguely, slowly away and vanish in thedense primeval woods.

  "Come," said Stern at last. "We must be going, too. The night's halfspent. By morning we must be very far away."

  "What? We've got to leave the city?"

  "Yes. There's no such thing as staying here now. The tower's quiteuntenable. Racked and shaken as it is, it's liable to fall at anytime. But, even if it should stand, we can't live here any more."

  "But--where now?"

  "I don't just know. Somewhere else, that's certain. Everything in thiswhole vicinity is ruined. The spring's gone. Nothing remains of theforest, nothing but horror and death. Pestilence is bound to sweepthis place in the wake of such a--such an affair.

  "The sights all about here aren't such as you should see. Neithershould I. We mustn't even think of them. Some way or other we can finda path down out of here, away--away--"

  "But," she cried anxiously, "but all our treasures? All the tools anddishes, all the food and clothing, and everything? All our precious,hard-won things?"

  "Nothing left of them now. Down on the fifth floor, at that end of thebuilding, I'm positive there's nothing but a vast hole blown out ofthe side of the tower. So there's nothing left to salvage. Nothing atall."

  "Can you replace the things?"

  "Why not? Wherever we settle down we can get along for a few days onwhat game I can snare or shoot with the few remaining cartridges. Andafter that--"

  "Yes?"

  "After that, once we get established a little, I can come into thecity and go to raiding again. What we've lost is a mere triflecompared to what's left in New York. Why, the latent resources of thisvast ruin haven't been even touched yet! We've got our lives. That'sthe only vital factor. With those everything else is possible. It alllooks dark and hard to you now, Beatrice. But in a few days--wait andsee!"

  "Allan!"

  "What, Beatrice?"

  "I trust you in everything. I'm in your hands. Lead me."

  "Come, then, for the way is long before us. Come!"

  Two hours later, undaunted by the far howling of a wolfpack, as thewan crescent of the moon came up the untroubled sky, they reached thebrink of the river, almost due west of where the southern end ofCentral Park hall been.

  This course, they felt, would avoid any possible encounter withstragglers of the Horde. Through Madison Forest--or what remained ofit--they had not gone; but had struck eastward from the building, thennorthward, and so in a wide detour had avoided all the horrors thatthey knew lay near the wreck of the tower.

  The river, flowing onward to the sea as calmly as though pain anddeath and ruin and all the dark tragedy of the past night, the pastcenturies, had never been, filled their tired souls and bodies with agrateful peace. Slowly, gently it lapped the wooded shore, where docksand slips had all gone back to nature; the moonlit ripples spoke ofbeauty, life, hope, love.

  Though they could not drink the brackish waters, yet they laved theirfaces, arms and hands, and felt refreshed. Then for some time insilence they skirted the flood, ever northward, away from the deadcity's heart. And the moon rose even higher, higher still, and greatthoughts welled within their hearts. The cool night breeze, fresheningin from the vast salt wastes of the sea--unsailed forever now--cooledtheir cheeks and soothed the fever of their thoughts.

  Where the grim ruin of Grant's Tomb looked down upon the river, theycame at length upon a strange, rude boat, another, then a third--awhole flotilla, moored with plaited ropes of grass to trees along theshore.

  "These must certainly be the canoes of the attacking force fromnorthward, the force that fought the Horde the night before _we_ tooka hand in the matter; fought, and were beaten, and--devoured," saidStern.

  And with a practical eye, wise and cool even despite the pain of hiswounded arm, he examined three or four of the boats as best he couldby moonlight.

  The girl and he agreed on one to use.

  "Yes, this looks like the most suitable," judged the engineer,indicating a rough, banca-like craft nearly sixteen feet long, whichhad been carved and scraped and burned out of a single log.

  He helped Beatrice in, then cast off the rope. In the bottom lay sixpaddles of the most degraded state of workmanship. They showed notrace of decoration whatsoever, and the lowest savages of thepre-cataclysmic era had invariably attempted some crude form of art onnearly every implement.

  The girl took up one of the paddles.

  "Which way? Up-stream?" asked she. "No, no, you mustn't even try touse that arm."

  "Why paddle at all?" Stern answered. "See here."

  He pointed where a short and crooked mast lay, unstopped, along theside. Lashed to it was a sail of rawhides, clumsily caught togetherwith thongs, heavy and stiff, yet full of promise.

  Stern laughed.

  "Back to the coracle stage again," said he. "Back to Caesar's time,and way beyond!" And he lifted one end of the mast. "Here we've gotthe Seuvian pellis pro velis, the 'skins for sails' all overagain--only more so. Well, no matter. Up she goes!"

  Together they stepped the mast and spread the sail. The engineer tookhis place in the stern, a paddle in his left hand. He dipped it, andthe ripples glinted away.

  "Now," said he, in a voice that left no room for argument, "now, _you_curl up in the tiger-skin and go to sleep! This is my job."

  The sail caught the breath of the breeze. The banca moved slowlyforward, trailing its wake like widening lines of silver in themoonlight.

  And Beatrice, strong in her trust of him, her confidence and love, laydown to sleep while the wounded man steered on and on, and watched herand protected her. And over all the stars, a glory in the summer sky,kept silent vigil.

  Dawn broke, all a flame of gold and crimson, as they landed in asheltered little bay on the west shore.

  Here, though the forest stood unbroken in thick ranges all along thebackground, it had not yet invaded the slope that led back from thepebbly beach. And through the tangle of what once must have been asplendid orchard, they caught a glimpse of white walls overgrown witha mad profusion of wild roses, wisterias and columbines.

  "This was once upon a time the summer-place, the big concrete bungalowand all, of Harrison Van Amburg. You know the billionaire, the wheatman? It used to be all his in the long ago. He built it for all timeof a material that time can never change. It was his. Well, it's oursnow. Our home!"

  Together they stood upon the shelving beach, lapped by the river.Somewhere in the woods behind them a robin was caroling with liquidharmony.

  Stern drew the rude boat up. Then, breathing deep, he faced themorning.

  "You and I, Beatrice," said he, and took her hand. "Just you--and I!"

  "And love!" she whispered.

  "And hope, and life! And the earth reborn. The arts and sciences,language and letters, truth, 'all the glories of the world' handeddown through us!

  "Listen! The race of men, our race, must live again--shall live! Againthe forests and the plains shall be the conquest of our blood. Oncemore shall cities gleam and tower, ships sail the sea, and the worldgo on to greater wisdom, better things!

  "A kinder and a saner world this time. No misery, no war, no poverty,woe, strife, creeds, oppression, tears--for we are wiser than thoseother folk, and there shall be no error."

  He paused, his face irradiate. To him recurred the prophecy ofIngersoll, the greatest orator of that other time. And very slowly hespoke again:

  "Beatrice, it shall be a world where thrones have crumbled and wherekings are dust. The aristocr
acy of idleness shall reign no more! Aworld without a slave. Man shall at last be free!

  "'A world at peace, adorned by every form of art, with music's myriadvoices thrilled, while lips are rich with words of love and truth. Aworld in which no exile sighs, no prisoner mourns; a world on whichthe gibbet's shadow shall not fall.

  "'A race without disease of flesh or brain, shapely and fair, thewedded harmony of form and function. And as I look, life lengthens,joy deepens, and over all in the great dome shines the eternal star ofhuman hope!'"

  "And love?" she smiled again, a deep and sacred meaning in her words.Within her stirred the universal motherhood, the hope of everything,the call of the unborn, the insistent voice of the race that was tobe.

  "And love!" he answered, his voice now very tender, very grave.

  Tired, yet strong, he looked upon her. And as he looked his eyes grewdeep and eager.

  Sweet as the honey of Hymettus was the perfume of the orchard, all apowder of white and rosy blooms, among which the bees, pollen-dusted,labored, at their joyous, fructifying task. Fresh, the morning breeze.Clear, warm, radiant, the sun of June; the summer sun uprising farbeyond the shining hills.

  Life everywhere--and love!

  Love, too, for them. For this man, this woman, love; the mystery, thepleasure and the eternal pain.

  With his unhurt arm he circled her. He bent, he drew her to him, asshe raised her face to his.

  And for the first time his mouth sought hers.

  Their lips, long hungry for this madness, met there and blended in akiss of passion and of joy.

  BOOK II

  BEYOND THE GREAT OBLIVION