A Voyage to Arcturus David Lindsay (popular e readers .TXT) 📖

regret anything?” he demanded suddenly.

“No, Maskull, nothing. I regret nothing.”

“Your feelings are unchanged?”

“Love can’t go back⁠—it can only go on.”

“Yes, eternally on. It is so.”

“No, I don’t mean that. There is a climax, but when the climax has been reached, love if it still wants to ascend must turn to sacrifice.”

“That’s a dreadful creed,” he said in a low voice, turning pale beneath his coating of mud.

“Perhaps my nature is discordant.⁠ ⁠… I am tired. I don’t know what I feel.”

In a few minutes they were on their feet again, and the journey recommenced. Within half an hour they had reached the Mornstab Pass.

The ground here was drier; the broken land to the north served to drain off the moisture of the soil. Sullenbode led them to the northern edge of the ridge, to show them the nature of the country. The pass was nothing but a gigantic landslip on both sides of the ridge, where it was the lowest above the underlying land. A series of huge broken terraces of earth and rock descended toward Barey. They were overgrown with stunted vegetation. It was quite possible to get down to the lowlands that way, but rather difficult. On either side of the landslip, to cast and west, the ridge came down in a long line of sheer, terrific cliffs. A low haze concealed Barey from view. Complete stillness was in the air, broken only by the distant thundering of an invisible waterfall.

Maskull and Sullenbode sat down on a boulder, facing the open country. The moon was directly behind them, high up. It was almost as light as an Earth day.

“Tonight is like life,” said Sullenbode.

“How so?”

“So lovely above and around us, so foul underfoot.”

Maskull sighed. “Poor girl, you are unhappy.”

“And you⁠—are you happy?”

He thought a while, and then replied⁠—“No. No, I’m not happy. Love is not happiness.”

“What is it, Maskull?”

“Restlessness⁠—unshed tears⁠—thoughts too grand for our soul to think⁠ ⁠…”

“Yes,” said Sullenbode.

After a time she asked, “Why were we created, just to live for a few years and then disappear?”

“We are told that we shall live again.”

“Yes, Maskull?”

“Perhaps in Muspel,” he added thoughtfully.

“What kind of life will that be?”

“Surely we shall meet again. Love is too wonderful and mysterious a thing to remain uncompleted.”

She gave a slight shiver, and turned away from him. “This dream is untrue. Love is completed here.”

“How can that be, when sooner or later it is brutally interrupted by Fate?”

“It is completed by anguish.⁠ ⁠… Oh, why must it always be enjoyment for us? Can’t we suffer⁠—can’t we go on suffering, forever and ever? Maskull, until love crushes our spirit, finally and without remedy, we don’t begin to feel ourselves.”

Maskull gazed at her with a troubled expression. “Can the memory of love be worth more than its presence and reality?”

“You don’t understand. Those pangs are more precious than all the rest beside.” She caught at him. “Oh, if you could only see inside my mind, Maskull! You would see strange things.⁠ ⁠… I can’t explain. It is all confused, even to myself.⁠ ⁠… This love is quite different from what I thought.”

He sighed again. “Love is a strong drink. Perhaps it is too strong for human beings. And I think that it overtures our reason in different ways.”

They remained sitting side by side, staring straight before them with unseeing eyes.

“It doesn’t matter,” said Sullenbode at last, with a smile, getting up. “Soon it will be ended, one way or another. Come, let us be off!”

Maskull too got up.

“Where’s Corpang?” he asked listlessly.

They both looked across the ridge in the direction of Adage. At the point where they stood it was nearly a mile wide. It sloped perceptibly toward the southern edge, giving all the earth the appearance of a heavy list. Toward the west the ground continued level for a thousand yards, but then a high, sloping, grassy hill went right across the ridge from side to side, like a vast billow on the verge of breaking. It shut out all further view beyond. The whole crest of this hill, from one end to the other, was crowned by a long row of enormous stone posts, shining brightly in the moonlight against a background of dark sky. There were about thirty in all, and they were placed at such regular intervals that there was little doubt that they had been set there by human hands. Some were perpendicular, but others dipped so much that an aspect of extreme antiquity was given to the entire colonnade. Corpang was seen climbing the hill, not far from the top.

“He wishes to arrive,” said Maskull, watching the energetic ascent with a rather cynical smile.

“The heavens won’t open for Corpang,” returned Sullenbode. “He need not be in such a hurry.⁠ ⁠… What do these pillars seem like to you?”

“They might be the entrance to some mighty temple. Who can have planted them there?”

She did not answer. They watched Corpang gain the summit of the hill, and disappear through the line of posts.

Maskull turned again to Sullenbode. “Now we two are alone in a lonely world.”

She regarded him steadily. “Our last night on this earth must be a grand one. I am ready to go on.”

“I don’t think you are fit to go on. It will be better to go down the pass a little, and find shelter.”

She half smiled. “We won’t study our poor bodies tonight. I mean you to go to Adage, Maskull.”

“Then at all events let us rest first, for it must be a long, terrible climb, and who knows what hardships we shall meet?”

She walked a step or two forward, half turned, and held out her hand to him. “Come, Maskull!”

When they had covered half the distance that separated them from the foot of the hill, Maskull heard the drum taps. They came from behind the hill, and were loud, sharp, almost explosive. He glanced at Sullenbode, but she appeared to hear nothing. A minute later the whole sky behind and above the long chain of stone posts on the crest of the hill