Part 22 (1/2)

He felt that he was being carried by the eternal wings of creation into the very heart of the throbbing world; he was one with Nature, he was one with G.o.d, one with his whole being's most sacred longing. And thus, closely locked in each other's arms, these two mortals of perfect beauty lived an hour that lies as a pulsing memory, deeply hidden within the dark lap of the ever-wakeful Mother Earth, and from which it rose like a song of undying, eternal perfection to the vastness of the sky above: a song that now floats in never-ending echoes on every pa.s.sing cloud, on every ray of the sun. It was an hour when Nature stood still to listen to the accomplishment of one of her dearest dreams--when all life seemed concentrated within the happiness of those two frail human beings....

A cold streak of dawn was slowly advancing with pale furtiveness out of the cover of night, when Eric bent once again to press his lips upon the perfect mouth; as he did so Stella looked up into his face with those eyes that had for so long been a living part of his most hidden self.

Oh! was ever any earthly thing so marvellous, so wonderful, as those two grey stars of light! and a sweet whisper rose stealing into every drop of his blood:

”I love thee, I love thee, as never have I loved a single one of my heavenly dreams; I have learnt in this hour the most limitless boundaries of human bliss. Lay now thy dear lips upon these eyes thou hast found at last, so that no other sight than thy fond face may ever trouble my inner vision.

”Oh, see the day dawns; give me once more all thy bounding soul in the blessing of thy kiss.”

Eric lifted the beloved woman and pressed her in a frenzy of joy to his heart; then very gently laid his mouth upon her eyes, closing the delicate lids, shutting away within her starry orbs the visage she loved more than all else.

Long did he remain thus holding her sweet face beneath his tender caress, whilst a heavenly smile parted her gentle lips.

And it seemed to Eric that at that moment his life and hers were flowing quietly together in one great tide towards the sh.o.r.es of Eternity....

But when old Zorka came at the break of day to see how her dear ones fared, she stood strangling a cry that rose in the air; then, throwing herself upon the ground, she hid her grey head in the dust.

There sat Eric with wandering gaze, his eyes wide open, full of frantic misery, looking down upon a corpse he held pressed closely to his beating heart. And through the gold of his s.h.i.+ning locks, soft silver threads were scattered like finely spun moonbeams entwined with the rays of the sun.

Zorka lifted her haggard face and stared in awe at the ghost-like pallor of the girl. A wonderful light rested on her waxen features as she lay full of peace and rest, white and motionless in the arms of her lover.

Her eyes were closed as one who has shut her tired lids over a joy too great for words, the vastness of which had burst asunder her human heart.

XXV

And thy first night of death Belongs to our first sorrow....

What knowledge now is thine?

A deeper one than ours.

BARD OF THE DaMBOVITZA.

All day the dark men of the tribe had been building a coffin into which the beautiful maiden was to be laid to rest.

One and all were bowed with sorrow; this death was to them a horrible unreality their simple minds could not grasp. Why was this creature of light cut down in her sweetest prime?

What would their lives now be without the glamour and mystery with which she had filled their wandering day?

The morning was bleak, and the rain fell in occasional showers that the wind swept, with moaning sighs, over the naked waste. The canvas of the tents flapped and creaked, straining against the poles and cords that held them in place.

A heavy gloom brooded over the wretched camp, so that even the squabbling children spoke with bated breath.

Within Stella's silent tent sat Eric of the golden locks, staring without tears upon the face of the dead. The eyes of his dream looked upon him no more; he had shut them for ever with the pa.s.sion of his kiss. Beneath his living lips she had breathed her last, dying like a fading flower, scorched by the flame of his love!

He had not known when she had pa.s.sed away--only the growing chill he had felt beneath his cheek had pierced his soul with a sudden fear, and when he had called on her beloved name no answer had come in response. But we shall draw a veil over that hour of morn when he realized what was to be his fate. There are times of darkness and bottomless grief wherein the eye of a stranger must never descend. This was the end--the end!

Hope was dead, life was a waste, and all had been but a pa.s.sionate dream that ended with a kiss!