CHAPTER XXII.
SMILES AND TEARS.
One morning, Monella sought Leonard and reverted to their formerconversation about Ulama.
"You have well considered all the words I spoke to you, my son?" hesaid. "Are you still of the same mind?"
"I had hoped that you knew me too well to think it necessary to ask thequestion," Leonard said earnestly. "Since I first looked upon Ulama, mylove for her has been given past all recall. I have never wavered in myresolution to remain here for her dear sake, if I may hope to gain theking's consent."
"Then," returned Monella, "the king would talk with you concerning it.Let us go to him."
And, without further preface, he led the young man into the privatechamber of King Dranoa, where he left him.
The king, Leonard thought, looked ill and careworn; but he received himwith great kindness, and in a manner that quickly reassured the anxiouslover.
"It has been no secret to me for some time," said Dranoa, "that thouhast looked with affection upon my child. She, too, hath spoken to me;I see that she hath set her heart upon this thing, and I love her toodearly to desire to thwart her wishes, unless for some weighty reason.Here I see no such reason; for, though thou art a stranger, yet thouart worthily recommended by one upon whose judgment I have learned toplace reliance. He that led thee hither is not a man to act lightly orwithout full consideration in a matter of such paramount importance;if thou hast gained his confidence and esteem, I doubt not that thereare good reasons for it. He hath the unerring eye that pierces to thevery heart, and that no hypocrisy, no cunning, can deceive. Were itthe case that my dominions were to-day the great empire over whichmy forefathers held sway, I would seek such a man's advice in theappointment of my generals, my ministers, my governors for distantdistricts. Therefore do I feel that I can rely upon his judgment, evenin a matter so momentous as the choice of one to espouse my child andto succeed me on my throne. And knowing, as I do full well, that the'falloa' hath laid its hand upon me and that my days in this my landare numbered, it is grateful to mine heart to feel that my child willbe comforted, when I am gone, by one whose affection for her is pureand wholly hers, and who will have at his side a friend and counsellorwho will guide his youthful steps in the path that I would have himfollow. This conviction hath lifted from mine heart a grievous trouble,and hath enabled me to bear without sorrow or regret the knowledge thatthe fatal sickness hath taken hold upon me. For the fact that I shallnow soon quit this earthly life I care nothing in itself; it hath beenthe fear of what would then befall that hath filled me with forebodingsand with fear. But, if I see--as I hope to see--the power of the BlackCoryon broken and destroyed for ever; my child wedded to one worthy ofher love and honour; my successor aided and advised by one so competentto guide as is thy friend, then indeed I shall feel I can lay down theburden of life with thanksgiving, and take my way to the great unknownof the hereafter without fear, without regret, without a sigh; but,instead, with the great content of one who feels he hath nothing moreto wish or hope for upon earth. For know, my son," continued Dranoawith grave emphasis, "no man wisheth to prolong his life for that whichit hath yielded, but rather for that which he is hopeful it may yield.The proof of this is easy; no man desireth to live his life over again;therefore he is, at heart, and from actual experience, dissatisfiedand wearied with life; not charmed with it. Yet do many cling to it,fatuously believing, in the face of all their own actual experience,that it shall yet, in the future, afford them joys and gratificationsthey have never found in the past. These, my son, are the words of onewho hath lived long enough to gain the wisdom that teacheth how to siftthe wheat from the chaff."
Dranoa paused, and remained silent awhile. Then he resumed, with achange of tone,
"But I wish not to weigh down thy young imaginings with the soberknowledge that belongeth not to thine years but to mine. It willbe sufficient to give thee counsel that is more suited to thecircumstances. Therefore I say this to thee: thou hast a good heart andgood instincts--trust them, follow them honestly; and leave the restto the Great Spirit that ruleth over all. And now I have but one morething to say; it were better for the present that this that is betweenus were not known openly. Personally, that will not concern thee. Whenthe time hath come, I will myself announce it to my people. Meanwhile,thy mind will be at rest with the knowledge of my approval of thy suit."
Leonard gratefully poured out his thanks to the kind-hearted king; thenwent to seek Ulama.
He found her sitting alone in an apartment that overlooked the lake, sodeep in thought that she did not hear his coming. She was leaning onthe window-sill gazing pensively upon the beauties of the scene thatlay outspread before her.
But Leonard thought, as he caught sight of her and stayed his stepsupon the threshold, that she herself was the fairest creation of all,posed as she was with that unconscious grace and charm that seemedwith her to be innate. For a full minute he stood in silence; then,still without moving towards her, he softly called her name, as thoughfearing to approach her till he had permission.
She turned her head towards him with no surprise, but with a look ofsweetest pleasure in her gentle eyes.
"I did not hear you," she said dreamily, "and yet--I know not why--Iwas looking for your coming."
"And what were you thinking of so profoundly, sweet Ulama?"
"I was thinking," she replied, "how much more beautiful our lake andits surroundings have seemed to me of late. I scarce noticed thembefore; I suppose because I have known them all my life. Yet, nowthat you have pointed out some of their beauties, I not only feel andappreciate them, but I note many others on all sides that I never sawbefore. It is very strange! I wonder why it is?"
"It is _love_, Ulama," Leonard said, coming quietly to her side andlaying his hand lightly on her shoulder. "Love can make the plainestworks of nature beautiful; small wonder then if it makes those that arereally so display new and unsuspected charms. It is because love hastaken up his dwelling in your heart that you now see new beauties inthese familiar scenes."
But Ulama shook her head sagely, and smilingly made answer,
"You know you told me that the first time you saw our lake you deemedit the fairest spot on all the earth. And you did not know me then, socould not love me. How then can what you say explain it?"
Leonard laughed and took her hand in his.
"You forget that I had seen you in my dreams and had loved youlong before," he said. "Perhaps some instinct told me that here Ishould find the abode of her who already had my heart. Or, if thatexplanation does not please you, here is another. Love and sympathy areinseparable; you admire, now, things that you thought little of before,because you see that _I_ admire them."
"Yes; that may be," Ulama admitted, with a thoughtful look. "But then,it does not explain why _you_ should see beauties where _I_ did not. Ithink you must have a quicker appreciation of the beautiful in naturethan is given to me."
"It may be so; and that in turn explains how it came about that I wasso quick to realise the beauty of the fairest daughter of Manoa!" AndLeonard's look was so tender, so full of loving admiration, that itbrought a rosy glow to Ulama's cheek. "And it also reminds me that Isought you here to tell you something of importance, something that hasbrought joy and gladness to my heart. I have just been talking aboutyou with the king."
The colour in the girl's cheek grew deeper; and now she turned herglance again upon the landscape that lay sleeping in the morningsunlight.
"Dear love," continued Leonard, "think what it means to me--to both ofus, I hope--when I tell you that the king has given me permission toask you to give yourself to me! Ah! Not only has he done that, but hehas done it in a manner--accompanied it with kind words of trust andconfidence that have filled my whole heart with gratitude. He speaks asthough I had already _proved_ that which I can only hope to show in thefuture--my true desire to make myself worthy of your love. His kindnessand many marks of friendship towards one who is but a stranger herehave overwhelmed me. I feel
the whole devotion of my life to you andhim can scarce repay such generous, ungrudging proofs of his confidenceand favour."
"You have a good friend in Monella," Ulama said quietly. "He neverfails to speak well of you when occasion offers. And he is one of ourown race, and has had great experience of the world outside, of whichwe know nothing; and my father knows he can rely on his opinion."
"Yes, I know that is true, dear love, and my heart burns with gratitudeto him too. And now, beloved"--and he put his arms round her and drewher to him--"may I not think of you as all my own? Let me hear you saywith those dear lips that you know now what love is, that it has sprungup unforced in your pure heart; let me hear you say, 'Leonard, I loveyou!'"
And, as he drew her closer to him and her head nestled upon hisshoulder, a whisper, that seemed but a faint sigh, breathed softly thewords so sweet to hear for the first time from a loved-one's lips--"Ilove you!"
Later in the day Leonard told Templemore of his interview with theking; and, as he did so, a look came over his face that, as his friendexpressed it to himself, "did one's heart good to see, even if but oncein a lifetime!"
"In your happiness I too feel happy, dear old boy," he said. "And Ishould have little concern, for the time being, if only those at homeknew we were alive and well. As it is, the thought of their anxietytroubles me unceasingly."
"Let us hope our signal flares were seen and will be reported," Leonardanswered. "I think they must have been seen; and, if so, Carenna issure to hear of it, and will find some way of sending word."
This referred to what they had done to carry out Leonard's suggestion.After some perseverance in watching from the spot they had selected,they saw, one evening, camp fires far out on the savanna. At once theymade their signals with small heaps of powder, and these they repeatedseveral times. No response whatever came; nor did they expect any.There was nothing for it but to wait patiently in the hope that theirsignals had been seen.
Then ensued a time, lasting many weeks, which was almost uneventful. ToLeonard and Ulama it was one uninterrupted dream of blissful happiness.To Templemore it was pleasant and interesting, for he found plenty toengage his mind. He studied the designs of the chief buildings; of thebridges that spanned the streams that fed the lake. In the arches andgeneral construction of these he formed engineering ideas that were newto him. He visited often the great waterfall that formed the outletof the lake, and declared that the sight of the vast body of watershooting out in its leap of two thousand feet, its deep, thunderingroar, and the play of colour when the sun shone into the mist andspray, made up a combination that threw Niagara itself--which he hadseen--into the shade.
One day, when Ulama and Zonella were alone together, the former thusaddressed her friend,
"Sometimes of late I have fancied there has been some unpleasantpassage between you and Leonard's friend. I myself am so fortunate, sohappy, that I like not to see those about me otherwise. I would haveall my friends as happy as myself." And she took Zonella's hand andrubbed her face affectionately against it. "Tell me, Zonella, have youtwo quarrelled?"
For a moment Zonella's face, usually so pleasant to behold, looked hardand almost fierce. Then it softened, and, with a loud cry, she threwher arms around Ulama; she hid her face in the gentle bosom, and burstinto a torrent of impassioned tears.
It was some time before Ulama, greatly surprised as well as pained andpuzzled, could understand the meaning of this outburst; but presentlyZonella, growing somewhat calmer, sobbed out,
"Ah! _You_--you little know, little think what I have suffered. Hecares no more for me than he does for you--perhaps less. His heart iselsewhere; he is set upon going away from our land, and only his regardfor his friend delays him."
Ulama's beautiful face bent over Zonella's, and her tears fell upon theother's cheek as she pressed her lovingly to her bosom.
"Alas! Alas! My poor Zonella! And is it possible that love, which hasbeen so sweet to me, should bring to you but pain and suffering? Ialmost fear for my own happiness; that my selfishness in yielding toit has blinded me to what was going on with the others. But it neveroccurred to me that love that is to me so wonderful in the joy andpleasure it confers, could also be the cause of misery and sorrow.And yet," she added thoughtfully, "you are not without one to loveyou. Poor Ergalon has long been faithful to his love for you. Oh, howstrange and contrary it all seems! Poor fellow! Perhaps you have madehim suffer even as you yourself have suffered. Can his love not consoleyou? I know so little myself that what I say may be only foolishness,yet----"
Zonella smiled faintly, and shook her head. Then she kissed the othertenderly.
"Let us say no more, my dear," she said. "I am sorry I gave way as Idid; but you took me by surprise. Perhaps, too, your implied advice iswise. It might be better to try to love the one you _know_ does trulylove you, than to fret your heart out after one who loves you not, andwho is beyond your reach. At least, as you say, there _is_ one in theworld who loves me."
Thus the time sped on. Monella was much away; sometimes for a weektogether; so the young men saw comparatively little of him. Templemore,on one occasion, expressed a wish to visit Myrlanda with him, butMonella said there were difficulties in the way.
"It is better you two should remain here for the present," he declared."At a future time, let us hope it may be different."
But one day Monella came to him with a look of gravity that at oncearoused his interest.
"It is time," he said, "that I should show you something of the truth,that you may understand what lies before us. Can you brace up yourcourage and your nerve to stand a severe trial?"
Templemore opened his eyes in astonishment.
"Need you ask?" he answered. "Have you ever known me wanting incourage?"
"Ah, no. But this that I refer to requires courage of a different sort.Yet it must be faced. But I warn you it will be a shock. Make up yourmind to a test that will tax all the nerve you can summon to your aid."
"And Leonard too?" Jack inquired, wondering.
"No. Say nothing to him. Let his dream be happy while it may. Be readyto come out with me to-night, when Ergalon shall come to seek you. Andbring your rifle."